Chapter 10: Sleepy Use

SAESHA POV

The leather couch was too soft. Or maybe I was too sore. Every inch of my body hummed, stung, ached. My wrists were red from the silk tie. My thighs were sticky with his cum. My lips swollen, my voice broken.

And yet, I’d never felt more alive.

I curled up against the armrest, my lashes heavy. My body screamed for rest, but my mind was still buzzing with him.

Veeraj.

He hadn’t left me wrecked on the floor. He’d carried me here, laid me down, tucked a blanket over my body like I wasn’t the slut he’d just fucked raw across his desk. His big hands moved with surprising gentleness as he wiped between my thighs, cleaning away the mess, whispering words I almost couldn’t believe came from him.

“Breathe, Principessa… you took it so well.”

I whimpered, half-asleep, nuzzling into the couch as he stroked my hair.

And then—like it was nothing—he straightened, fixed his shirt, and went back to his desk.

His voice switched back to that calm, ruthless tone as the laptop camera blinked on again. “Yes, continue. I’m listening.”

I drifted, hazy, lulled by the low rumble of his business talk mixing with the steady scent of leather and smoke. My body floated between soreness and satisfaction. My pussy still pulsed, sore but greedy. My legs twitched every time I remembered how he’d made me scream.

Sleep tugged at me, heavy. My body gave in.

But Veeraj never stopped watching me.

———

I woke to a different kind of heat.

Not the blanket. Not the couch. Him.

His hand was already on my thigh, spreading me open under the throw, his other still scrolling through his laptop as if this was just another part of his meeting.

“Veeraj—” my voice cracked, groggy.

“Shhh.” His eyes flicked to me, dark and hungry. “You’re half-asleep. Perfect.”

My breath hitched. I should’ve pulled away, should’ve protested. But the way his fingers stroked lazily along my slit, testing the wetness still leaking from me, made my body melt all over again.

“Still sore,” he murmured, almost like he was talking to himself. “Still messy. And still mine.”

He shifted me, sliding my body onto my back, tugging the blanket away. My wrists were too weak to fight, my legs falling open under his control.

“You don’t even have the strength to resist,” he said, voice low, cruel. “That’s when I like you best.”

Heat burned through me. Shame, yes, but darker, twisted. The thrill of knowing he could do anything he wanted while I was too tired to stop him.

“You like it too,” he rasped, pulling his belt free, pushing his chair back. “Don’t pretend you don’t.”

I whimpered, trembling as he pressed the blunt head of his cock against my entrance. My walls still throbbed, sore and swollen, but the stretch as he pushed inside made me cry out anyway.

“Quiet,” he warned, covering my mouth with his hand. “My meeting’s still running.”

Tears pricked my eyes as he bottomed out, filling me to the brim. My pussy clenched helplessly, clinging to him even as my body shook.

“Look at you,” he groaned, voice rough but controlled, his thrusts slow and steady. “Half-asleep, stuffed full, too tired to fight me off. And still dripping for Daddy’s cock.”

A muffled moan broke against his palm.

“That’s it,” he whispered, pounding harder now, his chair squeaking behind him as he drove into me. “Take it in your sleep, little whore. Be Daddy’s toy even when your eyes can’t stay open.”

My lashes fluttered. My head lolled. I was too wrecked, too tired, but every thrust sent sparks shooting through my nerves, every drag of him made my clit throb all over again.

“You’re not even awake and your body’s begging,” he snarled, fucking me faster, the wet sounds obscene in the office air. “That’s how I know I own you. Even unconscious, your pussy’s mine.”

I cried into his hand, the tears hot on my cheeks, my legs trembling as another orgasm ripped through me without warning. My back arched, my body convulsed, my voice muffled against his palm.

He groaned darkly. “Good girl. Come in your sleep like the slut you are.”

He didn’t stop. He never stopped. He kept pounding, his teeth gritting, his voice dropping as he whispered filth only for me.

“Daddy’s gonna fill you again. So deep you’ll wake up dripping. So full you won’t know where you end and I begin.”

His cock twitched inside me, thick and hot, and then he spilled, burying himself to the hilt as his cum spilled over my sore walls.

He held me there, pressed down, his hand still over my mouth, his other pinning my wrists.

“Mine,” he growled, low and brutal. “Even when you’re sleeping. Especially then.”

The meeting droned on in the background. The couch creaked under us. My eyes fluttered shut again, wrecked, ruined, blissed-out. And Veeraj didn’t miss a single beat in his work.

The blanket slipped off my body completely, forgotten on the floor. My chest rose and fell too fast, my nipples hard from the chill and the rough scrape of his shirt as he leaned over me.

I whimpered under his palm, muffled, broken, as he stayed buried deep inside me. His cock pulsed, hot, twitching, every small shift dragging against my raw walls.

“You feel that?” Veeraj growled against my ear. “That’s me leaking out of you already. That’s how used you are.”

A low, humiliated moan spilled from me. My thighs shook, trying to close, but his hips kept them wide open.

“Don’t hide from it,” he ordered, slapping my inner thigh until it burned. “Show me. Spread them wider.”

I obeyed without thought, my legs trembling as I forced them apart, exposing everything to him. The slick mess smeared across my skin, dripping down onto the couch cushion.

His chest rumbled with dark laughter. “Look at my little slut. Too tired to fight but still opening her legs for me. You were made for this.”

He shifted, grinding deeper, slower, until I whimpered into his hand again. Every drag stretched me raw, the soreness flaring with every inch. It should’ve hurt too much—but my pussy clenched around him like it couldn’t let go.

“Even your cunt’s addicted,” he rasped, watching me through hooded eyes. “Tight, wet, begging even when you’re half-asleep.”

His hand left my mouth only to grip my jaw, forcing me to look at him. His stare cut straight through me, dangerous, possessive.

“Say it,” he demanded.

My lips trembled. “A-Addicted…”

“Say it properly.” His hips snapped once, sharp and punishing.

“I’m addicted to you, Daddy!” I cried out, the words tearing from me like a confession.

His groan was feral. He slammed into me again, faster now, pounding until the couch creaked against the wall. My hands twisted uselessly against the tie at my wrists, my body arching into every brutal thrust.

The orgasm built again, too soon, too sharp, but he didn’t slow down.

“You’re going to come in your sleep again,” he snarled, teeth grazing my ear. “You’re going to wake up cockdrunk and ruined. And you’ll still beg me for more.”

I sobbed, trembling, the wave crashing over me whether I wanted it or not. My pussy convulsed around him, milking, clenching, pulling him deeper as I shattered under him.

He hissed, biting down on my shoulder. “Fuck… that’s it. Squeeze Daddy’s cock like you never want to let it go.”

I screamed his name, my voice hoarse, body thrashing as he kept rutting through my climax. Every thrust rubbed my raw clit against his pelvis, dragging me higher, tearing another orgasm from me before I could catch my breath.

“Two,” he gritted, smirking down at me. “That’s two in your sleep, slut.”

Tears streaked my cheeks, my vision blurring. “Please—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.” His hand wrapped around my throat, pressing lightly, enough to make me gasp. “You’ll take every orgasm I decide to give you. You’ll come until your body begs me to stop.”

He pulled out suddenly, leaving me empty, whimpering. Before I could process, he flipped me over onto my stomach, yanking my hips up. My face pressed into the couch cushion, wrists still bound behind me, ass in the air like I was offering myself.

“Perfect,” he growled, lining up again. “Look at you, ready to be used.”

He drove back into me hard, making me scream into the fabric. His hands gripped my tied wrists, using them like reins, pulling me back onto his cock. The slap of skin filled the office, wet and obscene.

“Daddy—!” I cried, voice muffled.

“You love it,” he snarled, pounding deeper, faster. “Say it.”

“I love it! I love being used!”

“That’s my good girl.” His pace turned brutal, relentless, each thrust hitting so deep I swore he was in my stomach. My body convulsed, writhing, another orgasm tearing through me so violently I nearly collapsed.

“Three,” he hissed, groaning as my walls clenched around him like a vice.

I sobbed, shaking, begging incoherently, but he didn’t stop. He slammed harder, faster, until I was screaming into the cushion, my voice raw, my body undone.

Another climax crashed through me, wave after wave, leaving me shaking and crying into the couch.

“Four,” he spat, his own voice cracking now. “You’re a fucking mess, Saesha. My mess.”

His thrusts grew sloppy, brutal, desperate. He buried himself to the hilt one final time, groaning my name like a curse as he spilled inside me again. The heat flooded me, thick, dripping, spilling out down my thighs.

I collapsed flat against the couch, trembling, broken, my wrists limp against the tie.

Veeraj leaned over me, his mouth at my ear, his voice a low growl.

“Remember this, Principessa. Even asleep, even bound, even broken—you’re still mine. Always mine.”

The last thing I felt before sleep swallowed me again was the weight of him, still inside me, still owning me.

And the sick, twisted truth? I loved it.

End of Chapter 10