Chapter 17: Morning Touch

SAESHA POV

The light streaming in through the curtains felt different that morning. Softer, warmer, like the world outside dared to creep into Veeraj’s dark bedroom. My lashes fluttered, my body still heavy from the night before. Every muscle was sore, every inch of me marked, and yet…I felt cocooned.

Because he was still there.

Veeraj’s arm was wrapped around me, his chest pressed hard against my back, his breath warm against my neck. He smelled like spice and musk, the kind of scent that clung to me no matter how many times I showered. My skin was still sticky with him, my thighs still tender, my lips swollen.

I shifted slightly, trying to turn, but his grip only tightened.

“Don’t even think about it,” he murmured, voice rough from sleep.

“Veeraj…” I whispered, trying not to smile.

His hand slid lower, palm spreading across my stomach, fingers splayed possessively. “Stay right here. You think I’m letting you run off after last night?”

Heat flushed through me at the memory. The ropes. The cuffs. His words echoing in my head as he filled me again and again, whispering filth about breeding me until I broke apart.

I bit my lip. “I was just…going to shower.”

“You’ll shower when I’m done with you,” he growled, nuzzling into my hair. His palm pressed more firmly against my stomach, almost protective. “Not before.”

The touch wasn’t just dominant—it was soft, almost reverent. My breath caught.

“Why are you…” I hesitated, my voice small, “…holding me like this?”

“Because you’re mine,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious truth in the world. “And because I like the way it feels.”

I swallowed hard. “The way what feels?”

His lips brushed the shell of my ear. “The thought of you swollen with me, Saesha. Full of me. Carrying what I put inside you.”

My thighs clenched, a whimper escaping before I could stop it. “Veeraj…”

“You don’t need to hide it,” he whispered darkly. “I felt it last night—the way your body begged for it. The way your pussy hugged me tighter when I told you I’d breed you. You liked it, didn’t you?”

I buried my face into the pillow, my cheeks blazing.

He chuckled, low and sinful, dragging his hand down my stomach until his fingers brushed the inside of my thigh. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” I admitted, breathless.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

The shift in his energy was instant. His growl vibrated against my back, and then he rolled me onto my stomach, straddling me, his weight pinning me into the sheets. His hands gripped my hips, pulling them up so my ass arched in the air, bare and ready.

“Good girl,” he rasped. “Because I’m not done reminding you who you belong to.”

He didn’t waste time. He pushed into me in one hard thrust, making me gasp, my nails clawing at the sheets. My body was still sore, still sensitive, but he didn’t care—and neither did I.

“Fuck—Veeraj—”

“That’s right,” he groaned, slamming deeper. “Moan for me. Take it. Every inch.”

His thrusts were merciless, punishing, and yet every time he bottomed out inside me, his hands caressed my waist, my stomach, like he was torn between ruining me and worshipping me.

“You feel that?” he growled, pressing his palm flat over my belly again as he pounded into me. “That’s me. Filling you. Stretching you. Owning you.”

I cried out, the sensation overwhelming, his filthy words only fueling the fire.

“You’ll never need protection,” he snarled. “Because your only protection is me. I decide when you’re full. I decide when you come. I decide everything.”

My body trembled, his hand sliding up my spine, gripping the back of my neck as he drove me closer and closer to the edge.

“You love it, don’t you?” he demanded.

“Yes—” My voice cracked. “Yes, Daddy—”

“Say it louder.”

“I love it! I love when you fuck me like this!”

His groan was rough, guttural, his pace brutal as he chased his release. I couldn’t hold back anymore. The orgasm tore through me, violent and hot, my walls clenching around him as I screamed his name into the pillow.

He followed seconds later, spilling inside me with a raw growl, holding me down as he emptied himself deep.

Silence crashed down after, broken only by our ragged breaths. My body collapsed against the sheets, trembling and ruined, but his weight didn’t lift. He stayed pressed to me, his lips brushing my shoulder.

“You’re mine,” he whispered again, softer this time. “Every fucking part of you.”

And for the first time, I didn’t fight it.

I just closed my eyes and let the truth settle inside me like fire.

By the time I’d stopped fighting his arms around me, I was melting into him. His chest pressed to my back, his breath warm against the crook of my neck. One of his hands gripped my waist, the other sliding absently over my stomach, low, possessive.

“Stay,” he muttered when I shifted. “You move, I’ll tie you down again.”

A shiver ran through me. But my body was spent, too sore to argue. His warmth, his weight, his scent—it pulled me under faster than I wanted to admit. My eyes fluttered, heavy, my breathing slowed. The last thing I felt was his lips brushing my hair and the rumble of his chest when he whispered, “Mine.”

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, I was being lifted. Strong arms cradled me effortlessly, carrying me through the dim room. I stirred, but he pressed his mouth against my temple.

“Sleep, Principessa. I’ve got you.”

The sound of running water reached my ears. I blinked weakly, catching the sight of steam curling from the bathroom. He sat me on the edge of the marble tub, stripping away what little I still wore. His gaze burned hot, but it wasn’t hunger—not this time.

He tested the water with his hand, then guided me in. The heat wrapped around me instantly, making me sigh, my head lolling against the rim. Veeraj rolled his sleeves up and crouched down, dipping a cloth into the bath before dragging it slowly over my skin.

Over my shoulders. Down my arms. Across my chest, where he lingered just a second longer.

“You’re sore,” he murmured, eyes flicking to the faint bruises blooming along my thighs. “Good.” His mouth curled at the corner. “Means you’ll remember who you belong to.”

I wanted to snap back, but my body betrayed me, sinking deeper into the water with a soft whimper. He smirked at the sound, then pressed the cloth lower, dragging it gently between my legs.

I gasped, jerking, but his hand caught my thigh, holding me open with unyielding authority.

“Relax,” he ordered. “I’m just cleaning what’s mine.”

Heat rose to my cheeks. My eyes fluttered closed as his touch softened, careful now, even when his words stayed sharp. The contrast made my chest ache in ways I didn’t understand.

By the time he finished, my body was loose, boneless. He wrapped me in a thick towel and carried me back to bed, laying me down on fresh sheets that smelled like him.

He tucked the blanket around me, leaning close until his lips brushed my ear.

“Sleep now,” he said, his voice rough velvet. “Tomorrow, we start again.”

And as darkness pulled me under, I knew I was already ruined.

Ruined, addicted, his.

END OF CHAPTER 17