Page 38 of Dose

He does not stop.

“Theon—I can’t⁠—”

My fingers tighten in his hair even as I say it. My thighs close around his shoulders, keeping him where he is.

“You can.” His voice vibrates against me. “Again, baby girl.”

He proves it. The second comes faster, sharp enough to leave me shaking. The third is slower and merciless, coaxed from a body that has already given him everything it knows how to give. Tears slip into my hair. Not pain. Not fear. Too much sensation with nowhere else to go.

He kisses his way back up while I lie ruined beneath him. His mouth is wet with me, his eyes dark, and his control is hanging by a thread. I can see it in the tremor of his arms.

“Isla.” My name sounds dragged from him. He settles between my thighs, hard and heavy against me. “Tell me what you want. Do you want my cock?”

The word rises before I can examine it. He called me baby girl. He tucked in my laces, came for me in the alcove, stands between me and every locked door. My mouth opens.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Theon freezes.

Every muscle in the arms braced beside my head turns rigid. For half a second, I think I have said the wrong thing.

Then a sound tears out of his chest—low, starving, almost a growl. His forehead drops to mine, and his whole body shudders.

“Say it again.”

“Daddy.” This time I know I mean it. “Please.”

“Fuck.” He kisses me hard, once, then pulls back far enough to see my face. The chemist surfaces through the hunger. “Your post-extraction panel was clear. Mine is current. No exposure since. Your contraceptive?”

“Quarterly injection. Nine weeks until the next dose.” The program prescribed it for cramping, officially. Another thing they controlled. Tonight, I choose what it is for. “I want you bare. And I don’t want you to pull away.”

His eyes close for one strained beat.

“Nothing between us,” he says. “Eyes on me, baby girl. I want to see all of it.”

He pushes into me.

Slowly. His eyes stay locked on mine, reading every change. Pressure, stretch, then a brief bright sting that pulls a sound from me. He stops at once, halfway inside and trembling with the effort of holding still.

“Breathe,” he says, ragged and tender at once. “Four counts. You know this one.”

I breathe. Four in. Four out. The sting eases, leaving fullness behind.

I wrap my legs around his hips and draw him closer.

“There she is.” He sinks the rest of the way into me. We both make broken sounds. Then he holds still, buried deep, breathing as though he has surfaced from cold water. “Do you feel me?”

“Everywhere.”

“Good.” He draws back and rolls forward, slow and deep. My vision blurs at the edges. “I’m the first man inside you.” Another stroke. His voice drops into the register that lives at the base of my spine. “The first.”

His palm presses low on my belly, above my pubic bone, and the added pressure makes every movement sharper.

“Theon—”

“And the last.” His pace builds, still controlled even as his words turn rough. “The only one. No one else gets this. Say you understand.”

“I understand.” My nails score the ink across his back. “Yours. I choose it. Log it, notarize it, I don’t care—Daddy⁠—”