“After today, you’re mine, Jess. And I’ll kill any other man that ever looks at you.”

  She groans out something between a growl and a laugh. “You would, too. I know you would.”

  “You’re goddamned fucking right.”

  I penetrate her with my middle finger, then my first and middle. Her body reacts, bucks and writhes. I start to eat her out again, but she tries to squirm away.

  “Not a fucking chance.”

  This little girl. What wouldn’t I do to have her? To keep her? To protect her just to destroy her?

  There is no limit to what I’d do to have this. Now and always.

  She’s getting so sensitive that she’s fighting me, and I fucking love to feel her fight. Still with my mouth on her pussy, I reach up her body and slip my thumb into her mouth. She bites down hard, sobbing and gasping.

  “Oh Mike,” she whimpers, her tongue pushing against my thumb, then sucking it and biting it again. “Oh Mike.”

  “Nu, uh. Not Mike, not when we’re like this, who am I?”

  “Daddy.”

  Aww yeah, fuck yeah. I’ve got her where I want her. Pussy wet, clit swollen, and sucking my thumb like a baby. I go for her pussy deeper, harder, more, and now the fight is gone. Her legs fall open in surrender. And I drink her up, pulling her from no back into yes.

  She starts to cum for me again, and my senses sharpen. Her warm flesh, the scent of her lotion, the touch of her little fingertips. The tenderness of that touch, especially, tells me I’m fucked. Now and always.

  Now-lust-now-rage fills my body, fills my core, my dick, my balls. I can’t fucking believe Jess is in my bed. I can’t fucking believe she about to be mine.

  My fingers tell me she’s damn tight, which I knew already. But now, I really explore her inside, feeling her hymen pushing back against my fingertips, feeling the tightness of her walls. This pussy, it’s not going to let me go slow. This pussy is going to need to be popped. Hard. It’s going to be bloody and messy and painful.

  And the thought of that makes me damn near shoot my load against the sheets.

  I groan into her tight little cunt. I part her gash with my middle finger, letting go of her clit. I fucking hate the feeling of her body parting from mine, but it’s necessary. For now.

  “Time to break you in, baby girl. Time to teach you how to take Daddy’s dick right.”

  She grips the sheets with her hands, looking up at the ceiling, eyes sheened with tears. “Yes, Daddy. Please.”

  I try to move my finger deeper, but she’s just so fucking tight. So fucking young. So fucking strong.

  “Breathe, baby. Relax and breath.”

  She nods slowly, smiling. “Okay.”

  “I’ll never hurt you on purpose. Except this once. And after that, only when you deserve it.”

  There’s that laugh, that soft giggle. “Yeah. I know.”

  I nestle my chin on the curve of her lower belly, reaching up at taking her hand. “You ready?”

  She lifts her head from the pillows. “Yes. I think so anyway.”

  That willingness; that sweetness; that desire. I’m the luckiest bastard in the world. And now it’s time to do it for keeps. It’s time to take her as mine.

  I reposition myself on top of her. In my mind, I flash to fucking her on every surface of this house—vertical and horizontal—I imagine doggy style and one knee bent and her on her knees spreading her ass wide. But this time, this first time, it’s fucking missionary. Because I need to see her. I need to be closer to her.

  I need to make her now she’s utterly safe.

  I press into her opening again. My cock fucking throbs with the ache of needing her. I stroke myself firmly but slowly as she watches me, and I let her understand with her eyes what’s about to happen inside her.

  Knowing I’m going to hurt her, it hurst me. Maybe. A little. And I feel a little fucking guilty for it too.

  But just that. Only a little.

  Because all her life, I’ve protected her as a girl. And now it’s going to be my job to protect her into womanhood, too.

  She nudges my thigh with her cute little toes. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  She’s watching me stroke myself, watching my work the length of the cock that is about to split her in two. Her eyes are locked on it, and the blush in her cheeks makes my core fucking smolder.

  “I’m thinking about taking you. About hurting you. About how I should feel fucking back about it, but I don’t.”

  Her toes curl even tighter, and she moans out a whimper that is fear mixed with need. That sound, more than anything else she’s done so far, it’s like a fucking starting pistol in my head. Because it tells me she wants it. Needs it. And that’s what matters to me most.

  I place myself at her opening again, feeling her walls part and clench. I place my elbows on either side of her, above her shoulders, pushing my forehead against hers. And then, when our eyes are locked, I clench my hips, and push, push, fucking push inside her virgin hole.

  The viscous wetness of her desire is washed away by her hymen blood. She cries out in pain, gripping my shoulders, holding me as close as she can.

  Fuck, I love this. I need this. I revel in her pain and her embrace. “There’s no other way to do this, baby girl. Just breathe. Just fucking breathe.”

  I inhale deeply, letting my pecs press powerful against her tender breasts. She mimics my breathing instantly, no questions, no doubts. Such a good fucking girl, through and through.

  My whole body is on fucking fire. Burning up with need. Every fucking muscle, every fucking drop of blood and cum—it’s all need, pure need. For her. For this. For us.

  She fights me hard, squirming, kicking, digging her heel into my thigh. But the more she fights, the harder I push.

  “Shh, shh, shh,” I say, my lips wet against the shell of her ear. “It’s okay. It’ll be fine in a second. Do you trust me?”

  “Yesssss,” she sobs out, “Yes.”

  “Good girl. Just lean into that pain. Be strong for me now, baby. Just let it ride. I’m not moving until it’s done.”

  I keep her close and safe and tight against my body. She’s fighting me hard, willful and scared. I feel the hotness of her tears against my shoulder. “It hurts, Mike. It really, really…”

  Protect her. Keep her. Hold her. Be the man she deserves. Don’t fuck her; not yet. Not yet.

  “You’re so little, baby girl. And I’m so big. Of course it hurts.”

  “You are, Daddy. You’re so big,” she says, but as she says it, I feel the pain start to ebb away. She writhes again and it makes me even more desperate to lust-fuck her into a begging mess. “I don’t know if I can handle this.”

  Those words make my body tense up. Her, with her fucking discipline and focus, her with her fucking intensity and skill, if she can’t handle me, then I’m really at her fucking limit. And her reluctance, it lights a fire in me. To take her to limits she’s never even imagined. Fuck. Here comes the rage. But I keep the rage at bay. I stay buried deep inside her, as gentle as nine inches of throbbing cock can be inside a virgin hole. “If you keep fucking fighting, baby girl, I’m going to give you something to fight against.”

  She sobs into my shoulder, and I feel her body begin to relax. The threat of more pain, it lessened the current pain. And that was the whole idea.

  “Okay, Daddy,” she whispers. “Okay.”

  I bury my face in the curve of her neck, that creamy flesh, that cool young skin, sucking on the edge of her earlobe. Her body reacts instantly, and her pussy tightens powerfully around my dick. I go slow, I’m tender and kind, and it’s just what she needs to star to let go. Her whines and fight slip in an instant to whimpers and flutters of her soaking-wet cunt.

  “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

  Her consent, her acceptance is almost timid, almost shy. Her back arches, she pushes her head into the down pillows. “Oh, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.”

  “There you go. Feel that pussy throb. Your body wants this. You want this. Because this is what you were put on this earth to do, baby girl. You were built for me to take you. You were built for my big cock.”

  She hooks her legs around my waist, ankles at the small of my back. The shift in her hips lets me get deeper, lets me push past her battered hymen and right up against the tight knot of her cervix.

  I pull out half a length, feeling my balls fill with even more cum. Locked and loaded. But not yet. Not fucking yet.

  I dive back in, groaning over her cries and moans.

  “Atta girl, baby. Taking your first cock. My cock. So spread those thighs and take it,” I say, with a thrust that jiggles her tits. “Do it. Fucking show me you can do it.”

  Her face flushes, like it does before she’s about to cum. I can see she likes that praise; responds to it, needs it even. Just as much as I need to give it. We are two halves of the same whole.

  Now her little cunt is gushing as I fuck her harder and more. God almighty, what if on top of everything else—on top of her beauty, on top of her sweetness, on top of her innocence—what if she’s a good little squirter, too?

  “I want a lifetime of this, baby girl. I’m going to have a lifetime of this. Now that I’ve got you,” I say, driving into the hilt, “There’s not a fucking chance I’m letting you go.”

  “Please don’t let me go, Daddy,” she begs. “I belong here. I need to be here. With you.”

  Fucking right. She’s pleading with me through her confidence, and that’ just makes me fucking wild. Her wetness thickens, making it easier for me to fuck her deeper, making her not so achingly tight. With every pounding thrust, she gives me a new whimper, a new moan, and it just fucking kills me from the inside out.

  I force myself up, while still staying deep inside her, and then reposition her left leg, so that I’m fucking her on her side, while she’s curled up into a tight little ball. As my position inside her shifts, so too does the sound of her growl. “Oh my god, that’s…”

  A flutter seizes my shaft, damn near milking the cum out of my dick. I bury my face in the soft curve where her neck meets her shoulder, and then I fuck her like an animal. Desperate. Greedy. Brutal. But keeping her safe and in a little ball all the time.

  Her walls grip me powerfully, tightly, and all I can think about is filling her to fucking bursting with my seed.

  My hard muscular thighs slap against the softness of her thighs and ass, making her curves jiggle in the most mouthwatering fucking way. The harder I fuck her, the harder I need to fuck her, and with every powerful thrust I feel my balls grow heavier, until they’re damn near busting out of their sack. I need to cum inside her. And I need to do it now.

  Everything in my life, every decision and every choice, has led me here. To this. To her. To the only thing that has ever mattered or will ever matter in the entire fucking world.

  The tenderness that I feel for her, it only feeds my rage. “Give me another orgasm, you filthy little slut,” I growl into her ear. “And give it to Daddy now.”

  “Oh my god,” she roars, “How dare you call me a…”

  One more powerful thrust and I feel her pussy start to throb. I reach between her legs, getting my fingers on her clit, rubbing hard to deepening that orgasm, intensify her pleasure, until she can’t take it anymore.

  “You’ll never have anybody else, baby girl,” I say as I pound into her, starting to feel my cum shoot up from my dick, filling her wet little bloody hole with my life-giving cum.

  “Never, Daddy,” she screams. “Never. Only you. Only you.”

  “Goddamn it, I fucking love you,” I growl, as I feel another wave of cum shoot out from me and deep into here, exactly where it belongs.

  She gasps, reacts, and I know I’m an asshole. Telling her I love her now. In the middle of this. But I can’t stop. Won’t stop. Never less; always more.

  Now she’s coming and she’s coming hard. And as she does, I feel her start to squirt into my hand and come on my dick and milk my seed right out of my balls.

  And now we’re coming together, fucking animals together, fucking primal in our union. The simplest fucking thing in thing in the world.

  Hers. Mine. Ours. Together.

  “I love you, too,” she growls, and clenches my dick so hard, so tight, that I have no fucking choice but to release all of myself into her. Every last drop. Until my balls are empty. And my dick is spent. She’s nothing but a panting wet met mess of sweat and cum and virgin blood.

  And as I wrap her up in my arms, her salty sweat on the tendrils of her curls, I know that from this point forward, my life is her.

  No matter what.

  No matter how.

  Once I put her back together, bathing her gently in the shower, making sure she’s fed and comfortable and happy, I take her out in my Mercedes, with the sunroof open and the wind in her hair.

  I steal a glance at her as I get on the highway. She’s wearing a teal sundress with tiny heart-shaped polka dots. Pale yellow bra underneath. Her hair is loose and damp from the shower, and as soon as she feels me looking at her, she looks at me with a sweet smile. And a wink.

  Fuck. I’m so in love with her it makes my goddamned eyes blurry.

  I’ve told her the destination is a surprise and it’s killing her. So far, she’s guessed Target, the Body Shop, the fro-yo place, and super fancy stringed instrument shop where they still repair instruments like it’s the year 1780. Note to self: we’re going to all those places, no question about it. But not right now. Because there’s something way more important than any of that.

  Because now she belongs to me. And I need her to know it.

  She purses her lips over to one side, and the puts her hand on her hip thinking, even though she’s sitting down.

  “Oooh! Cupcakes?”

  I shake my head. “Hush. Play some music. Just trust me; you’ll like what I have planned.”

  “’Kay,” she says, crossing her arms, making her tits spill over the scoop of her tank top. She grabs my phone, putting it up to my face to unlock it, and then opens the playlists. “We’ll listen to the Paganini because try-outs are in,” she glances at the time, “nine hours and counting.”

  Goddamn it, her parents have done a number on her. All work, no play.

  “Nope. We’re not listening to the Paganini. In fact, I’m pulling the fucking Daddy card now, little girl. Whatever we listen to, it’s gotta be post-1990.”

  She blinks at me. “Seriously?”

  “Daddy doesn’t like to repeat himself.”

  “Oh god,” she moans, curling her little toes on her flipflops. “Alright. Time for a big truth bomb, then.”

  “Hit me,” I say with a cocky sniff.

  “Whenever my mom tells me to listen to whatever in my earbuds in the car, what I’m really listening to…” she taps and swipes on the music app, “is this.”

  Guitar, drums. And then Taylor Swift’s Love Story.

  “Atta fuckin’ girl,” I say, and accelerate down the highway, so happy it feels like a dream.

  The jeweler’s place is high end, fancy as it comes in this area. “No way,” she says in awe when we pull into the parking lot.

  I get out first and open the door for her. “Way.”

  Inside we go, into the coolness and stillness. The place feels expensive, as it damned well should. Only the best for her. Now and always.

  She thinks we’re here for rings, but we’re not. I take her hand and lead her to the side of the store, where a row of glittering cases showcase some very particular, very specialized jewelry. The kind that locks. The kind that makes a binding fucking promise.

  She studies the bracelets and the necklace, each of them with some different sort of lock—some delicate, some gaudy—accompanied by a key.

  She understands it immediately. “Oh,” she says, eyes sparkling. “Oh, I see.”

  No, she doesn’t. Not yet. But she will. Over time. And with lots of fucking and loving and caring and training and learning and tears and orgasms.

  “Which one do you like? If Daddy lets you have a say.”

  She bits her lips, averting her eyes, as a blush sneaks up her cheeks. “Let’s see.”

  I give her some space, watching her close all the time, but letting her have some freedom to think and look around. Because y I want to own her, now and always, but I also don’t want to suffocate her for even one goddamned second. She’s only known suffocating love until now. From today forward, she’ll always be able to breathe.

  I hang back a bit, by the men’s watches, letting her explore the D/s jewelry, and even turn my back on her for a second to check my phone. But when I turn back around, she’s talking to the guy who works here. He’s giving her the eye, and then I watch her swing her hair over her shoulder, flirting right back.

  My vision clouds with the red haze. Worse, way fucking worse, than when I overheard her talking about that dickwad Dr. Markham from the orchestra. Because this fucker, this motherfucker, is talking to my baby girl.

  And she’s talking back.

  And this not fucking happening.

  I crack my neck side to side, resisting the very real urge to leap over the beveled glass cases and rearrange his facial features like a motherfucking live-action Picasso. I come up right behind her and possessively slide my hand down her ass.

  “So?” I ask giving her round flesh a squeeze.

  She lifts her eyes to me, warm and innocent and welcoming. Not a hint of deceit, not a hint of residual flirtation. She’s just clearly so fucking glad to see me that it feels like a punch to the sternum. It’s only because I want her so fucking bad that I doubted her, that I misread the swing of her hair.

  But I didn’t misread the clerk at all. He looks deflated like any guy does when he gets royally cockblocked.

  “Sir. Hello.”

  At least he didn’t keep flirting with her when I showed up. But I don’t acknowledge him at all. “So tell me what you want, baby. Because I need to talk to you outside. Now.”