Chapter 3 The one night stand

Elina POV

The sexy man's expression darkened, his gaze sharpening with a raw, feral hunger. Whatever restraint he had left shattered in an instant.

His rough hands gripped my ass, yanking my hips, slamming against him.

"What did you just call me?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous, thick with menace and desire.

A flush of molten heat rushed through me, my skin burning, my pulse pounding in places it shouldn't.

I knew exactly how filthy, how deliciously obscene that word was - the kind of word that makes your stomach flip and your inner thighs clench. And judging by the way his jaw tightened, it struck a nerve in him too.

A wicked grin curved my lips as I locked my legs around his waist, pulling him even closer.

"Daddy," I whispered, daring him again.

And just like that - he snapped.

He growled and his mouth was on mine. And it wasn't soft. It wasn't careful. It was rough, punishing, a furious claim that stole the breath straight from my lungs.

His hand tangled in my hair, yanking my head back just enough for his tongue to plunge deeper, tasting, devouring, taking like a man starved for too long.

His other hand gripped my thigh, hoisting it higher around his waist, grinding his body against mine in a way that made my head spin.

Oh god.

My toes curled as his hand lifted my breast as if to support it. My nipples spiked up at his touch.

"Does it feel good, ma bella?" He drawled as he nibbled and sucked my nipples drawing more moans.

"Yes.." I gasped as his hand which had been gentle now squeezed my entire breast with force. And the way he relentlessly teased my breasts felt almost malicious.

"Aah..." I moaned and I could feel myself getting more wet. And with a light tap he swatted my legs.

"Spread your legs." The words weren't a question. They were a command, low and rough, soaked in authority and sin.

A wicked thrill shot through me, blood pounding in my ears. No one had ever spoken to me like that - like I was his to do with as he pleased. And God help me, I wanted it. Needed it.

I bit my lip, my heart a wild drum against my ribs. The air between us felt thick, charged with something electric and forbidden.

I held his gaze as I slowly, deliberately obeyed, letting my legs fall open for him, and just like that I was bare and naked, completely exposed to a much sexier, a man much older than my age.

I felt liquid drip between my legs. The cool night air kissed my skin, but it was his eyes - dark, molten, hungry - that made me shiver.

"Have you been this wet for me all along, ma bella?" His voice was pure sin, the kind of sound that made your knees weak and your heart reckless.

I bit my lip, defiant and unashamed. "Maybe."

His veins hands glided over my flat stomach, past my pelvic bones and finally reached the gap between my legs making me gasp.

I closed my eyes, my toes curling when his fingers slipped dangerously close to my slit and I couldn't stand the tension building up.

Trying to grab onto the last thread of my life line I moaned, "J-Just... put it in."

The words came out raw. Desperate. I didn't care. I'd never wanted anyone like this. Never felt like I'd crawl out of my skin if he didn't-

But he just smirked, slow and wicked, like I'd handed him something dangerous and he fully intended to use it.

"What..?" He purred dangerously as his hand stroked dangerously close to my pussy. God, I swear he'll be the death of me.

I gasped, "Why don't you put it in. I'm all ready."

I whimpered as he kissed lower, his breath warm and devastating against my skin

"We'll see...." He rapsed and I gasped.

"Ahhh, What are you doing..?"

Before I could finish my sentence, he slid his middle finger against my wet slit.

"Aah..haa!"

He drawled, "You're wet like you said, ma bella."

"Aah..!"

Without warning, his finger slipped inside my hole and I instinctively grabbed his wrist, as he pressed against me.

My breath was sharp and frantic, like I couldn't fill my lungs enough to satisfy the burning, the need flooding my veins.

"It's a bit tight for me to fit in. Let me prepare you first." His voice was low, almost lazy, like he wasn't watching the way my whole body trembled under him.

The way my chest rose and fell in frantic rhythm. He knew.

I gasped, his middle finger was still inside me as he used his thumb to roll my swollen clit.

He scissored his fingers inside me, his thumb merciless, pressing against my sensitive spot.

My body arched upward, trembling, aching, craving.

"Please...," I begged, the words falling from me in a broken rush, "please... Don't tease me anymore."

"Stay still and take what I give you. You can't come until I tell you to, ma bella." He said in an authoritative tone.

And that was it. That was the moment where I realized-he was the one in control.

He wasn't just confident.

He was dominant.

With the way he held himself, the way his eyes tracked mine, the way his hands dictated exactly how close I could get to the edge - and how long I'd stay there.

He made me feel like I was the one asking permission.

His touch returned, his fingers probing inside mine, driving me mad. Helpless gasp that tore from my throat as he mercilessly tortured me.

Then his voice came, low and quiet, rougher than before.

"How many have you let touch you like this, ma bella?"

I froze. What?

I felt it-that flicker of tension in his jaw.

That guarded edge in his tone. Like he wasn't sure he had the right to ask. Like it came out before he could stop it. And yet... he didn't take it back.

I swallowed. My mouth was suddenly dry.

"Why does it matter to you? You don't get to ask me that." I retorted meeting his gaze with every ounce of boldness I didn't really feel.

He chuckled, "I bet they might have been pathetic, huh? Because you're so tight." He leaned against me, "If someone saw this, they'd think you're still a virgin, ma bella."

My heartbeat rose high,

"Well, can you stop talking and fuck me instead? If not, I'll go find someone else."

His whole body went still.

Like a storm right before it breaks. His eyes didn't leave mine, but the energy in the room snapped taut.

"You want someone else?" he asked, too softly. Too dangerously.

I couldn't say anything.

"You want some boy who doesn't know how to touch you? Who'll come too fast and leave you empty?"

He pressed his mouth to the corner of mine, not kissing me-just breathing me in.

"But alas, you don't get to walk away from me, ma bella." he said, his voice velvet-wrapped steel. "You don't talk about other men. Not when you're like this-naked in my bed, gasping from my touch."

I swallowed hard, but I didn't look away.

"I'm not yours," I said, even though it came out shakier than I meant it to.

Something dangerous flickered across his expression. Not rage-something deeper. Darker.

He smiled. Slowly. Wickedly.

"Not yet."

Then he dragged his knuckles down the inside of my thigh, slow, deliberate, until I gasped again-sharper this time, rawer.

"But you can pretend all you want," he whispered. "But your body already knows who it belongs to."

And the worst part?

He wasn't wrong.

"So shall we get started, ma bella."