Mafia Daddies Between My Thighs

Chapter 29: Chapter TWENTY NINE

ANGEL

He didn’t push his cock into me.

Not yet.

Damien remained threateningly close... just one thrust, one movement of his hip away from ruining me.

He didn’t enter, but he ensured I felt him. All of him. The way his heavy cock rested against my slit. I could feel the warmth of his engorged flesh. His penis jerked, once, then twice, Damien grunted, like he was fighting against the urge to ram into me.

He could just fuck me, ended this if he wanted... but this was something else.

The thick veiny length of his cock glided along my slit, slowly dividing my labia apart, he was drawing out my torture as long as possible. I choked on another sob, feeling his warm precum drizzle against my mound like drool.

”Now that you know your fate, I believe it will be easier for you just to accept it.” He said, still rocking gently against me, ”We have just three weeks, I need to teach you as much as possible.”

Three weeks?

I was to be trapped in his hell for a whole twenty-one days?

And then... after that, he would sell me to another version of hell where I had to entertain other men?

How much of his words were true? Was Daddy really doing this to me?

”Damien, please don’t do this, e-even if my parents did wrong, I’ve not offended you in any way!” Tears brimmed in my eyes again, and an ugly whimper sprang out of my mouth. My shoulders were heaving with sob, his cock slithered my slit again, and I cried harder. ”Not offended me in any way? Even my cock don’t agree with that,” he chuckled, amused.

”D-don’t sell me, don’t prepare me...”

”Ooh, are you begging me to keep you?” Damien cooed, but his eyes were raw with excitement and mockery. He was pleased to see me in this state. I could feel the slimy precum leaking more from his cock, tainting my pussy like spit.

”I could certainly buy you if I wanted to, but I simply don’t think you’d be worth all that money. While you may be hot, at the end of the day, I would have already gotten tired of your holes,”

More tears spilt from my eyes, this time it was because of the hate and anger I felt towards him. ”I hate you! You are—”

Going to burn in hell.

The words never made it out.

His mouth silenced me, hot and brutal.

His lips were unfairly soft, warm. His tongue was wet and determined. He consumed my hate, swallowed it all while grunting in pleasure.

His fingers dug into my hair, forcefully angling my neck to kiss me deeper, I tried to turn away, to stop him from ravaging my mouth. When it didn’t work, I bit him.

My teeth sank harshly into Damien’s lip, hard. And deeper still, I tasted blood which repulsed me and he still didn’t relent.

His hand fisted my hair harder, until my scalp burned, as if to punish me, but he wasn’t done.

His teeth stabbed into my lip, even more cruelly than I did his. I screamed, pain ricocheting through me, his mouth consumed my cries, allowing the taste of iron to melt between our tongues like a drug.

It was disgusting.

It felt like a sick ritual.

He sucked ravenously at my bottom lip, and then his hips moved. Still not entering, rather his engorged length slid rhythmically against my slit which was now slippery from his precum... and maybe a little bit of my own juice.

He was not inside me but I felt consumed, I could feel every ridge of his cock. The veins that tangled like roots. All of it teased my clit until I felt spontaneous fire, one that began as a slow heat in my stomach and began to spread.

No.

This couldn’t be happening. This time, I was certain of my wetness, the way his cock sat heavily like he already owned my pussy.

Damien completely ate up another of my whimpers, the pain in my lip was starting to amplify, the sensations in my pussy were even worse. It was too intense.

My thoughts were beginning to blur, and I realized with a jolt that my lips were starting to move against his.

I was kissing Damien back. Eagerly. I was still disgusted by the metallic taste, but maybe it was exactly because of that that the first trickle of wetness oozed down my thighs.

Something dark coiled inside me—primitive and unavoidable. Hunger and disgust, building together, entangling to become one.

It was too much.

I squirmed beneath Damien’s weight, ashamed by my own depravity. What the hell was wrong with me? This wasn’t right, not by any means. I didn’t want to feel like this. I wanted him to stop. To stop eating my mouth like it was the tastiest thing in the world. To take the weight of his cock from my pussy.

I didn’t want this at all. I hate Damien. I kissed him harder, my lips telling him exactly that.

A lone tear escaped my eyes, he was making me insane, forcing my pussy to throb with emptiness.

I was only a breath away from begging him to put it inside me. To fill me up with his throbbing cock.

More tears fell from my eyes, and Damien broke the kiss. His eyes gleamed with lust, he studied my face for a second.

”You weep because it feels so good?” He teased, then his lips touched my chin, he sucked my tears with pleasured grunts, his tongue leaving wet trails on my face.

”Can you feel your pussy also crying against my cock? You are really going out of your way to make me feel good, aren’t you? You know how much your tears excited me.”

”Fuck you, I don’t want this!” I spat at his face, the burst of anger was unintentional. Or maybe it was on purpose.

”You kissed me back!” He voiced it like an accusation. He cleaned my spit from his face with a finger, then he sucked on it, groaning low in his throat like a beast.

My insides roiled with revulsion, he was mentally ill.

”You want me, you crave me even if you don’t admit it, you want me to fill you up,”