and I’m pinned face down to the table. I didn’t think he could take me harder than before, but I was wrong. My hair is wrapped around his taped fighter’s fist and I’m mastered. I’m molded into the shape of him. It’s rough and almost violent, his sweat landing on my back, his animalistic grunts filling the room. Flesh hits flesh reminding me of the way his fist landed on the punching bag. Repeatedly. Hungrily.
And I love it.
I love this frenzied attack.
How I can’t do anything about it.
How people are outside this room, probably listening, well aware that a girl has been brought to this place to give the master of the universe some relief after his victory, her body his sacrifice. Sensation coils inside me as I stare at the table where it rams into the wall.
“Harder, Daddy,” I choke out, the whirlpool picking up speed beneath my belly button.
Maxim’s length jerks inside of me and he groans, his hips slapping harder against my buttocks. “You will give Daddy babies. You will give me everything.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
His second release spurts into me, hotter than the first, seemingly pulled from deep inside of him. With every drop that he gives me, his roar grows louder. His spend brims my sex and scalds the insides of my thighs, pooling on the table and finally, finally, the fighter collapses on me, more exerted than he was after the fight.
“Now I take you home and I never let you leave.”
I giggle dazedly into the table at his declaration.
But the sound fades when I realize…he’s one hundred percent serious.
4
Maxim
I do not like any men around my Whitney.
I never realized how many of them are around. The trainers that gape at us when I carry her out of the room wrapped in a blanket. My manager. Reporters. My driver. All of them want to speak with me, congratulate me, and if I had two free hands, they would surely be wrapped around necks. Can they not see I have no need of their congratulations?
The only prize I will ever need is trying to hide her beautiful face in my chest.
“We go home now, kotik. I will feed you and put you to bed.”
“Maxim.” She ducks her face to hide it from a photographer and I give the man a look that shrivels his balls. On one hand, I enjoy that my relationship with Whitney will be publicized worldwide, so that everyone knows she belongs to me. Period. On the other hand, I am very, very upset by her discomfort. This is why she will go to my home and remain there indefinitely. Until I figure out how to proceed with these new feelings. “Maxim,” she says into my chest. “We have to talk. It’s important.”
“Yes, Whitney.” I hold her closer. “We are almost to the car.”
She nods, but there’s a furrow between her brows.
“Daddy” she calls me.
I find I like this very much.
My instinct is to take care of her. It has been that way since she came to the training facility and a voice whispered cradle her in the back of my head. My balls are empty, for now, and still I have these intense urges to satisfy her in other ways. Soothe her in a bath, rub her back until she is asleep, feed her ice cream, brush her hair. I don’t even know if I own a brush suitable for a woman’s hair, but they must be available for purchase somewhere.
Yet another man holds the door open to the back entrance of the arena and I duck down, turn sideways and go slowly through the opening, to make sure Whitney doesn’t get a bump. My black SUV is there, idling, and I place her in the back, climbing in after her.
Immense relief slackens my muscles when we are locked inside the car and moving. Away from people. Toward a home where we will be alone.
No eyes. No men looking at my kotik.
I pull Whitney onto my lap and open the blanket a little, so I can look at her sweet, supple body. I tug down the neckline of her white dress until her tits are nearly out. They jiggle with every bump in the road and my cock grows stiff again.
“Yes. You will be major distraction,” I sigh, trailing a finger over her nipples. “What did you need to talk to me about?”
She struggles to sit up in my lap. “My sister. They took her during the fight.”
It is not news to