The Penthouse

Chapter 4: The Penthouse            

The black town car pulled up outside my apartment building at exactly 7:30 PM the next evening. I had spent the entire day at the gallery in a fog jumping every time my phone buzzed, thighs clenching whenever I remembered Damien’s fingers inside me on his desk. I’d changed outfits three times before settling on a simple but elegant emerald green dress that hugged my curves and fell just above the knee. No panties, just like he’d ordered. The cool night air brushing against my bare skin made me feel exposed and ridiculously turned on.

When I slid into the backseat, the driver didn’t say a word. He simply handed me a small black box with a note attached in Damien’s bold handwriting:

Wear this. Nothing else underneath.

Inside was a delicate diamond necklace with a single teardrop pendant that rested perfectly between my breasts, and a pair of sky-high black heels. My hands trembled slightly as I fastened the necklace. The weight of it felt like a claim.

The drive to his penthouse in Tribeca was silent. When we arrived, the doorman greeted me by name and escorted me straight to the private elevator. My heart hammered louder with every floor that passed.

The doors opened directly into Damien’s home.

It was breathtaking open-plan, all dark wood, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Hudson River, and modern art pieces that I recognized instantly from high-end auctions. Soft jazz played from hidden speakers. The lighting was low and warm.

And there he was.

Damien Blackwood stood near the massive kitchen island, pouring two glasses of red wine. He wore a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up again, revealing those strong forearms, and dark slacks that did nothing to hide how powerfully built he was. When he saw me, his steel-gray eyes darkened with immediate hunger.

“Fuck, Kira,” he said, voice low and rough. “You look even better than I imagined.”

I stepped out of the elevator, heels clicking on the marble floor. “The necklace… it’s beautiful.”

“It looks better on you.” He crossed the space between us in a few strides and pulled me against his chest. One large hand cupped the back of my neck while the other slid down to grip my ass possessively. “And you followed my instructions? No panties?”

I nodded, cheeks burning. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” He kissed me then hard, deep, claiming. His tongue swept into my mouth like he owned it, tasting of wine and pure male dominance. When he pulled back, I was already breathless. “Turn around. Let me see you.”

I did a slow spin for him. His gaze burned over every inch of me.

“Lift the dress. Show Daddy what’s his.”

My breath hitched. With shaky hands, I gathered the hem of the emerald dress and raised it slowly until it bunched at my waist, exposing my bare pussy to the cool air of the penthouse.

Damien groaned, stepping closer. His fingers traced my slit, finding me already wet. “Soaking. All day thinking about this, weren’t you? My greedy little girl.”

He circled my clit once, making my knees buckle, then stepped back. “Keep the dress up and come sit on the couch. Legs spread.”

I obeyed, walking to the large sectional sofa on trembling legs. I sat down, dress still hiked around my waist, thighs parted wide for him. Damien took his time, sipping his wine while he watched me, eyes locked between my legs.

“Look at that pretty pink pussy,” he murmured. “Already dripping for me. You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to taste you properly.”

He set his glass down and dropped to his knees in front of me like a man on a mission. Strong hands gripped my thighs, spreading me even wider. Then his mouth was on me.

The first long, slow lick from my entrance to my clit made me cry out. Damien didn’t tease he devoured. His tongue worked me with expert precision, flicking my clit, sucking it gently between his lips, then pushing inside me. The wet, obscene sounds filled the penthouse as he ate me like a starving man.

“Oh God… Damien…” I moaned, fingers threading through his dark hair with the silver at the temples.

He pulled back just enough to growl, “Wrong name, little one.”

I whimpered. “Daddy… please…”

“That’s better.” He dove back in, two thick fingers joining his tongue, curling deep inside me while he sucked hard on my clit.

Pleasure built fast and brutal. My hips bucked against his face, but he held me down firmly with one arm across my stomach. “Don’t run from it. Take what Daddy gives you.”

I came with a sharp cry, thighs shaking violently around his head as the orgasm ripped through me. Damien kept licking me through every wave, drawing it out until I was whimpering and oversensitive.

When he finally pulled back, his lips and chin were shiny with my arousal. He looked up at me with dark, satisfied eyes.

“Delicious,” he rasped. “Even sweeter than I dreamed.”

He stood, towering over me, and began unbuckling his belt. My eyes widened as he freed his cock thick, long, and rock hard, the head already glistening with pre-cum. It was bigger than anything I’d ever taken, intimidating and mouth-watering at the same time.

Damien stroked himself slowly, watching my reaction. “You’ve been such a good girl, Kira. Coming so pretty for me twice now. Tonight I’m finally going to fuck you. But I want to hear you beg for it first.”

I stared at his cock, thighs still trembling. “Please… I want you inside me.”

“Not good enough.” He stepped closer, rubbing the thick head against my soaked folds, teasing my clit with it. “Beg properly. Tell Daddy exactly what you need.”

Heat flooded my entire body. The words felt dirty and right at the same time. “Please, Daddy… fuck me. I need your cock. I’ve been aching for it. Please ruin me.”

A dark, pleased smile crossed his face. “That’s my girl.”

He gripped my hips and pulled me to the edge of the couch. The blunt head of his cock pressed against my entrance, stretching me slowly as he pushed in. Inch by thick inch, he sank deeper, filling me completely until his hips met mine.

“Fuck… so tight,” he groaned, holding still for a moment to let me adjust. “This pussy was made for me. Gripping Daddy’s cock like it never wants to let go.”

Then he started moving slow, deep thrusts at first, then harder, faster. The sound of skin slapping skin mixed with my moans and his low grunts. He fucked me with controlled power, one hand on my throat, the other gripping my hip hard enough to leave marks.

“Look at me while I fuck you,” he commanded.

Our eyes locked. Every thrust hit that perfect spot inside me, sending sparks through my entire body. I was lost completely at his mercy.

“Say it,” he growled, pounding into me harder. “Who’s fucking this little pussy?”

“You are… Daddy!” I cried out, another orgasm building fast.

“That’s right. This belongs to me now.” His pace became punishing, the couch creaking beneath us. “Come on my cock, Kira. Let me feel you milk me.”

I shattered again, screaming his name mixed with “Daddy” as my walls clenched around him rhythmically. Damien followed right after, burying himself deep with a guttural groan as he came inside me, hot pulses filling me up.

We stayed locked together, breathing hard. He pressed soft kisses to my neck, my jaw, my lips surprisingly tender after how roughly he’d taken me.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against my skin. “My sweet little forbidden girl.”

He finally pulled out slowly, watching with dark satisfaction as some of his cum leaked from me. Then he scooped me up effortlessly into his arms.

“Shower with me,” he said, carrying me toward the luxurious bathroom. “We’re not done yet. I plan on having you at least two more times before morning.”

As he carried me through the penthouse, naked from the waist down with his cum still dripping down my thighs, I realized one terrifying truth:

I was already addicted.

And there was no going back.