Lahat ng Kabanata ng Daddy's filthy little pet : Kabanata 251 - Kabanata 260

Rae’s POVKillian’s eyes were locked on mine—dark, burning, full of everything he’d held back through hours of teasing, edging, tasting, denying. His cock rested heavy against my entrance, the thick head slick with my arousal, nudging just inside the tight ring of muscle. I was still trembling from the last orgasm, thighs slick, core fluttering around nothing, every nerve screaming for more.“Please,” I whispered again—voice hoarse, cracked from begging. “Now… I can’t—”He cut me off with a slow, deep kiss—tongue stroking mine possessively while his hips flexed forward.The first inch stretched me open—slow, deliberate, burning sweetly after all the fingering and denial. My walls parted around his thickness, fluttering helplessly. I gasped into his mouth, nails digging into his shoulders. He groaned low against my lips—raw, wrecked—and pushed deeper.Inch by inch.Until he was buried to the hilt—hot, thick, filling me so completely I felt him in my throat. My back arched off the b

Rae’s POVSunlight slipped through the half-closed blinds in soft golden stripes, painting warm lines across Killian’s bare back and the tangled sheets around us. I woke slowly, body heavy with the kind of exhaustion that comes from being thoroughly, deliciously used.Every muscle ached in the best way—thighs tender, core still faintly pulsing with the memory of him inside me, skin marked in faint red blooms where his mouth and fingers had claimed me over and over. I could feel the faint stickiness between my legs, the warmth of his release still lingering inside, and the thought alone made a fresh shiver run through me.He was still asleep, face half-buried in the pillow, one arm slung possessively across my waist, holding me flush against his side. His breathing was deep and even, the steady rise and fall of his chest brushing my breasts. I lay there for long minutes just watching him—dark lashes fanned against his cheeks, stubble thicker now, lips slightly parted. The man who had

Rae's POV Killian’s hand was still fisted in my hair — not pulling hard, just tight enough to remind me who was in control now. My scalp tingled, my heart hammered against my ribs, and the slow grind I’d been torturing him with had left me soaked through the tiny lace thong. The thin fabric clung to my folds, useless, drenched, every tiny shift of my hips dragging the lace against my swollen clit until I was trembling on his lap.His other hand clamped down on my hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise — and he lifted me off him like I weighed nothing.The sudden emptiness made me whimper.He stood in one fluid motion, turned me around so my back was to his chest, and bent me forward over the arm of the couch. My palms slapped against the cushions; my knees sank into the soft fabric. The tiny skirt flipped up instantly — no resistance, no coverage — exposing the full curve of my ass and the black string disappearing between my cheeks.I felt the cool air hit my wet skin and s

Rae’s POVKillian’s cock was still teasing at my entrance — the thick head nudging just inside the tight ring of muscle, coated in my wetness, sliding up and down my slit in slow, deliberate strokes that made my thighs shake. I was bent over the couch arm, ass high, skirt flipped up around my waist, thong pulled roughly to the side. My palms pressed into the cushions, fingers curled tight, knuckles white. The sting from the spanking still burned across my cheeks — hot, throbbing, every tiny shift sending fresh sparks straight to my clit.I was dripping — literally dripping — wetness trickling down the insides of my thighs in slow, cool trails. My walls clenched around nothing, aching, desperate. Every time he pressed forward — just the head — my body tried to pull him in deeper, fluttering helplessly.“Please…” The word came out broken, voice wrecked from crying his name earlier. “Killian… inside… I can’t—”He leaned over me — chest pressing to my back, one arm braced beside my hea

Rae’s POVMorning light poured through the bedroom curtains in soft, honeyed waves. I woke curled against Killian’s chest, his arm heavy across my waist, steady breathing warm on my neck. My body still carried yesterday’s echoes — faint soreness between my thighs, tender skin on my ass where his hand had left its mark, nipples sensitive under the loose T-shirt I’d stolen from him again. Every small shift reminded me how thoroughly he’d taken me apart and put me back together.I pressed my lips to the hollow of his throat, tasting salt and skin. He stirred, hand sliding up my back, fingers threading into my hair.“Morning, Angel,” he mumbled, voice gravel-rough from sleep.“Morning.” I kissed the spot again, smiling against him. “We should get up. Zara’s discharge is today.”He hummed low, eyes still closed. “Five more minutes.”I laughed softly. “You said that ten minutes ago.”He cracked one eye open, smirking. “Blame yourself. You’re too comfortable.”We lingered anyway — lazy kis