Breath coming in sharp ragged pants.
But he didn’t slow. Didn’t stop.
And the wet slap of his balls against my chin felt like victory.
“My dirty girl,” he groaned, driving into me.“Gonna come.”
I closed my eyes, focusing on dragging my tongue around him.
“Fuck. Don’t swallow,” he rasped, yanking back and slamming forward until my face bounced off the soft fabric of his trousers.“Hold it in your mouth.”
He suddenly pulled out and with one hand began to work himself so viciously I thought he might pull it clean off. His other hand fisted my hair while I panted, mouth open and waiting.
The first shot splashed over my mouth, nose and forehead. He pushed back between my lips and I felt the heat of him hit my tongue. Some caught the back of my aching throat.
Our laboured breathing filled the office.
The drag of ceramic over wood.
He held my bowl of fruit in front of me.
“Spit.”
I stared at him in astonishment.
Victory was supposed to be mine.
Damn it.
I dipped my head and emptied into my mid-morning snack.
Note to self—don’t tease Daddy in the mornings.
He gets grumpy.
Chapter 27
Asher
Eleven weeks after Sayla arrived, I opened my gates for Gabriel. The legal back-and-forth was finished. We had enough proof to convict him of several offences. Sayla had opted to face him with me.
Wilson was instructed to invite him into the drawing room.
We listened to the car come to a halt. The engine cut out. The doorbell didn’t ring—Wilson opened the door before it could.
“Why do you keep a man slave?” Sayla whispered, nervously clasping her hand around mine.
“Wilson?” I whispered, listening as the footsteps drew closer.
“Do you have more man slaves in the house?”
“He earns a damn good wage.”
She grunted.
The door opened.
“Gabriel Kersey, sir,” Wilson announced before Gabriel stepped inside.