Please what, kitten?

Rae’s POV

His threat still hung in the air, raw and electric. I should’ve stopped. I didn’t.

Instead, I let my hand drift higher, fingertips brushing the hard ridge straining against his jeans. A single, deliberate stroke. His sharp inhale filled the car.

“Rae,” he growled, warning thick in his voice.

I smiled, slow and wicked, and traced the outline of him again, pressing just hard enough to feel him throb. “Yes, Daddy?”

That did it.

He jerked the wheel, tires humming as he pulled off the main road and into a quiet, tree-lined side street.

The second the car rolled to a stop beneath the heavy shade of an oak, he killed the engine and turned to me eyes dark with hunger.

“You want to play naughty?” His voice was velvet and danger. “Let’s play.”

Before I could answer, his mouth crashed into mine.

This wasn’t soft or sweet. This was teeth and tongue and pure possession. He kissed me like he was trying to devour every teasing breath I’d taken.

His piercing dragged across my lower lip, cool metal and hot mouth, and I whimpered into him.

One hand cupped my jaw, tilting my head exactly where he wanted it; the other hit the seat button. The driver’s seat slid back with a mechanical whir, giving him room.

He broke the kiss only long enough to grip my waist and lift me, effortless, like I weighed nothing across the console and onto his lap.

I gasped at the sudden movement, but my legs were already moving, wrapping tight around his waist, ankles locking behind his back.

The steering wheel pressed into my spine for a second before he adjusted, pulling me flush against him.

His mouth found my neck instantly, hot, open-mouthed kisses that turned into gentle bites, then slow licks.

He sucked hard just below my jaw, right where my pulse was hammering. The pull was perfect, sharp, and I felt the blood rush to the surface, knew I’d have a mark tomorrow.

I tilted my head to give him more access, fingers threading into his hair, tugging.

“Killian-”

He hummed against my skin, the vibration making me shiver, then moved lower. His hands slid up my sides, pushing the thin straps of my sundress down my shoulders.

The fabric caught on my breasts for a second before he tugged it lower, exposing me to the cool air and his hungry gaze.

“Fuck, look at you,” he breathed.

Then his mouth was on me.

He cupped one breast, thumb flicking the nipple until it pebbled tight, then took it into his mouth, wet, warm, perfect. He sucked hard, tongue swirling, piercing dragging over the sensitive peak in slow, deliberate strokes.

My back arched, pushing myself deeper into his mouth.

He switched to the other breast, giving it the same worship, sucking, licking, grazing with teeth until I was writhing in his lap, thighs clenching around his hips.

“Please,” I whimpered, rocking against the hard length trapped between us. “More—”

He pulled off my nipple with a wet pop, lips shiny, eyes dark. “More what, baby?”

I couldn’t form words. I just rolled my hips again, desperate.

He chuckled, low, filthy, and one big hand slid down my body, under the hem of my dress, fingers brushing the soaked lace between my legs.

He traced me once, twice, feather-light, then pressed the fabric against my clit. I jolted.

“Soaked,” he murmured against my collarbone. “All from a little teasing?”

He slipped beneath the lace, one finger gliding through my folds, circling my entrance but never pushing in.

I whined, trying to rock down, but he held my hips still with his other hand.

“Please—”

He leaned in, lips brushing my ear. “This is your punishment, kitten,” he whispered, voice soft and cruel. “You don’t get my fingers until you’re begging so pretty I can’t think straight.”

I actually pouted,full bottom-lip trembling, eyes glassy.

He laughed softly, kissed the pout right off my mouth, slow, sweet, coaxing, then gently lifted me and deposited me back in the passenger seat.

The sudden emptiness made me whimper.

He buckled me in, fingers lingering, then cupped my chin. “Why’s my baby angry?” he asked, all feigned innocence, eyes dancing.

“You know what you did,” I muttered, folding my arms, cheeks burning.

He leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to the swell of my breast just above the neckline of my dress. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said against my skin, voice dripping with mock confusion.

Then he straightened, started the car, and slid his hand back to my thigh, higher this time, fingers resting just beneath the edge of my lace, thumb stroking the sensitive crease where thigh meets heat.

I couldn’t help it. A soft, needy sound slipped out, half purr, half plea.

He glanced over, eyes dark as midnight.

“Please,” I whispered.

“Please what, kitten?” he asked, voice low and dangerous, thumb brushing once,so close, but not quite there.