Page 48

“You like that, Princess?” I taunt. “You want me to punish you for being such a brat?”

She bites her lip, her eyes going hazy, and she nods.

“Say it out loud,” I demand.

She crinkles her brows, her teeth biting deeper into her lip. “Punish me,” she whispers.

My hand makes contact with her ass again, and she yelps. And then I’m lining myself up against her entrance, and I thrust inside of her.

She gasps, gripping the countertop and moaning.

“Addison Thatcher,” I groan, pulling out and thrusting back into her—hard. “You drive me …”

Thrust.

“Fucking …”

Thrust.

“Crazy.”

“Cruz,” she whimpers. I lean over her, taking hold of her ponytail in my hand and gently pulling her head back, my lips right by her ear.

“Yeah, baby?” I whisper.

“Harder,” she bites out. “I need it harder.”

My cock stiffens inside of her. My Princess wants it harder? I’ll give it to her. I pull out and ram back into her, her strangled cries filling the room as I pump in and out.

“You’re. Mine,” I grit out, feeling her walls constrict around me. “You’remine, Princess.”

Her whimpers are near hysterical, her back arched, her feet no longer touching the ground.

“You hear that, Princess?” I urge.

She whimpers.

“Do you?” I slam into her.

“Yes!” she screams. “Yes, Cruz, yes!”

“Good,” I mutter. I snake my hand underneath her, stilling my rhythm only long enough to find her clit, rubbing soft, slow circles that has her making noises that would make a fucking porn star blush. “Because now that I’ve got a taste of you,” I thrust into her, “you’re mine forever.”

She writhes between me and the countertop, moaning incoherently, and I can tell she’s close. So close. I just need to push her over. “That’s right, Princess. Come for me, sweetheart,” I tell her. “Come on my cock.”

I feel her pussy constrict, pulling me over the edge right along with her.

As my orgasm fades, I gently pull out and fold Addison into my arms, picking her up and carrying her to my bathroom. I turn on the water, let it heat up, and then I pull her inside the shower with me. She hasn’t said anything yet, and part of me is worried that we just did was too rough, too much for her.

As the water cascades over our shoulders, wetting our hair, I place my hands on either side of her face, brushing the water from her cheeks. “Was that okay?” I ask quietly.

She smiles, nodding up at me.

“Are you sure, because—”

“I’m sorry Ihurt you,” she says.

I frown. “You don’t—”