Chapter 13: Parking Lot

SAESHA POV

The sun was cruel that morning, spilling through the wide mansion windows like it had the right to see what we’d done all night. My thighs still burned, my ass was tender where his hand had left red imprints, and between my legs… I was sore in that way that screamed I belonged to him.

But Veeraj didn’t let me rest.

“Get up,” he said, sharp as ever, tugging the sheets off me like I was a brat who’d overslept school. “We’re going out.”

I blinked, groggy. “Out? Where?”

“Breakfast.” He buttoned his shirt, dark and crisp, like nothing about last night touched him.

Breakfast. In public. After he’d ruined me over his table.

I almost laughed, but then I saw the gleam in his eyes, that cruel little smirk that meant he was already ten steps ahead.

“Wear that white dress,” he said.

I frowned. “It’s too short for a restaurant.”

“Exactly.”

My cheeks heated, but I obeyed. I always did, even when my gut twisted. Especially then.

When I stepped out in the dress, hem brushing the tops of my thighs, he didn’t even look at my face first. His gaze dragged over my legs, my hips, my chest, like he owned every inch. Which—he did.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and before I could smile at the rare praise, he tossed something onto the bed.

I froze.

A sleek, black toy. Shiny. Small, but unmistakable.

“No—”

“Yes.” He stepped close, crowding me until my back hit the bedpost. His hand wrapped around my jaw, thumb brushing my lip. “You’re going to wear it for me. At breakfast. While I feed you like the greedy little slut you are.”

Heat flooded my body, humiliation and desire tangled so tight I couldn’t separate them.

“Veeraj—”

“You like being degraded,” he cut me off, smirk sharp. “So let’s see how much you can take.”

He made me bend over the bed, spreading me with those ruthless hands, sliding the slick plug inside me in one slow push that had me whimpering, biting the sheets.

“Perfect,” he growled, palming my ass. “You’re stuffed. Just how I like you.”

By the time we reached the restaurant, my legs were jelly. The toy pressed inside me with every step, a constant reminder that I was his, filled because he said so.

The café was bright, cheerful, filled with soft chatter and clinking cups. People smiled at each other, couples shared croissants, kids giggled at the next table. Normal. Safe.

Except nothing about me was normal or safe.

I sat across from Veeraj in a corner booth, my dress riding indecently high, my core clenched around the toy with every tiny shift. He ordered for both of us, casual and smooth, like he didn’t have me plugged and squirming right there in public.

When the food came, he cut a piece of pancake and held it out on his fork.

“Open.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I can feed myself.”

He leaned closer, voice low and lethal. “Do you really want to test me in front of all these people, Principessa?”

My thighs clenched. I opened my mouth. He slid the fork between my lips, watching me chew like it was the filthiest thing in the world.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

Every time I swallowed, the toy shifted inside me, sending sparks up my spine. I tried to focus on the eggs, the fruit, the chatter around us—but his hand slid under the table, palm pressing between my thighs, pinching lightly through the fabric.

I jumped, a soft gasp escaping before I could stop it. A woman at the next table turned. I forced a smile, pretending nothing was wrong, but Veeraj’s smirk widened.

“Quiet,” he whispered, his fingers tapping lightly against my thigh like a warning. “Or I’ll make it worse.”

I wanted to curse him. I wanted to beg. Instead, I bit my lip, tasting syrup and humiliation.

He fed me another bite, slow, deliberate.

“You’re dripping,” he murmured, eyes glinting. “I can feel it on my hand.”

“Veeraj—please—” I whispered.

“Please what?” His gaze locked mine, dangerous and calm. “Please stop? Or please keep going?”

I couldn’t answer. My breath came too fast, my thighs pressed together too tight.

“Thought so,” he said darkly.

The toy hummed inside me with every step.

Breakfast had been torture. Sitting across from him in the café, trying to act like I wasn’t seconds away from shaking apart, my thighs pressed tight under the table. Veeraj barely looked at the menu. He looked at me. Only me.

Every time I shifted, his lips curved like he knew exactly how far gone I was. He didn’t even touch me. He didn’t have to. His control was the only touch I needed.

By the time we left, my head was foggy, my body pulsing. The short skirt he’d made me wear felt indecent, the plug inside me stretching me with every tiny movement. I wanted to beg. I wanted to come. But I didn’t dare—not without his command.

We walked to the car in silence, the morning sun blazing over the parking lot. I thought maybe, maybe he’d let me breathe once we got inside.

I was wrong.

The second the doors shut, Veeraj leaned over, one hand gripping the back of my neck, forcing my face toward him. His kiss wasn’t gentle. It was filthy, punishing, his tongue shoving past my lips while his other hand slid under my skirt, pressing hard against the toy buried in me.

I gasped against his mouth. “Veeraj—”

“You think you’re getting breakfast without earning it first?” he growled, biting my lower lip before pulling back. His eyes were black fire. “No, Principessa. You’re going to spread those pretty legs and let me use this car the way I want.”

My pulse thundered. The café was right behind us. People could walk by. See.

“Here?” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“Here.” His smirk was lethal. “Now climb on my lap.”

Heat flushed through me. The lot wasn’t empty. Shadows moved in the distance, voices carried faintly. But I moved anyway, climbing over the console until I was straddling him in the driver’s seat, my skirt riding up, leaving nothing to imagination.

His hands gripped my ass, squeezing, pressing the toy deeper inside me. I whimpered, my hands clinging to his shoulders.

“Look at you,” he rasped. “My little slut, dripping and desperate in a parking lot. You love it, don’t you?”

Shame and desire tangled in me, sharp and addictive. “Yes…”

“Yes what?” His hand cracked against my ass, the sound obscene in the tight car.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” His mouth crashed onto mine again, his teeth catching my lip as he yanked the toy out without warning. The stretch made me cry out, the sudden emptiness worse than the torture.

“Please—”

He unzipped his pants, freeing his cock, thick and hard, pressing against my slick folds. My whole body shook as he dragged the head along me, coating himself in my wetness but refusing to push in.

“Beg,” he ordered, his hand gripping my jaw, forcing me to look him in the eye.

“I need you inside me,” I gasped, my hips grinding against him shamelessly. “Please, Daddy.”

His growl was pure sin. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

He slammed into me with one brutal thrust. My scream was swallowed by his mouth, his cock filling me so deep I saw stars.

The car rocked. My palms slapped the window for balance, the glass fogging instantly as he pounded up into me. Every thrust shoved me higher, the leather squeaking beneath us.

“You hear that?” he snarled against my ear. “People outside, walking past, no idea I’m splitting you open in here.”

My core clenched around him, shame mixing with raw lust. “Oh god—”

“You love it. My dirty little whore.” His hand tangled in my hair, yanking my head back so he could bite my throat. “Moan louder. Let them hear who owns you.”

“Daddy—fuck—” My voice cracked, my body clinging to him as pleasure slammed through me. I couldn’t stop the cries spilling from my mouth, couldn’t stop the way my hips chased every brutal thrust.

His hand slid between us, fingers circling my clit in rough, punishing strokes. My vision blurred, the heat inside me burning too fast.

“You’re going to come all over me, aren’t you?” His tone was mocking, cruel. “Going to make a mess on my cock like the needy slut you are.”

“Yes! Yes, please—”

“Do it. Come for me. Right here. Right now.”

The command shattered me. I came with a scream, my whole body convulsing, my nails raking down his chest. My pussy clenched hard around him, milking him, pulling him deeper.

He didn’t slow. Didn’t stop. His hips pounded into me through my orgasm, relentless, brutal, until his own growl tore from his throat. He shoved me down hard on him, spilling deep inside me, hot and thick, marking me in every way.

We both panted, bodies slick with sweat, the car reeking of sex. My head fell to his shoulder, trembling, raw.

Veeraj’s hand cupped the back of my neck, holding me there, his breath rough against my hair. “Remember this, Principessa. No one gets to look at what’s mine. You understand?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, still shaking.

He kissed my temple, almost soft, before gripping my hips again, grinding me against him even as I whimpered.

“We’re not done. Not even close.”

And in that moment, I knew breakfast had only been the excuse. The real meal was me, fed to his hunger again and again, no matter where we were.

END OF CHAPTER 13