Daddy's filthy little pet
Chapter 2
Rae's POV
I stood outside the door like my whole body had forgotten how to function.
Room 47.
The glowing red numbers pulsed softly with the music leaking through the walls - slow, heavy, sinful.
Exactly like the way my heart was beating.
My fingers hovered over the door, trembling.
Zara’s voice echoed in my mind:
“Don’t think. Just feel. He’ll know what to do.”
Before I could exhale, the door swung open.
And my mouth went dry.
He was shirtless.
Not just shirtless - sculpted, golden skin stretched over muscle like he was carved just to ruin someone.
Tattoos curled over his chest, sliding across his arms and disappearing beneath the waistband of low-hanging black sweatpants.
He had that arrogant, sleepy kind of sex appeal…
Dark hair tousled,
jaw sharp,
and those blue eyes-
God.
He stared at me like he already owned every breath in my lungs.
Then he spoke, and I swear my knees almost gave out.
“You’re early.”
His tongue brushed his bottom lip when he talked, and that’s when I saw it - a silver glint.
A tongue piercing.
My thighs clenched so fast it was embarrassing.
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
He stepped aside, slow and deliberate.
“Come in, kitten. Door’s already open.”
I walked in, heartbeat ricocheting everywhere in my body. The room was dim - warm lights, mirrors, shadows. A couch. A table. A king-sized bed pushed against the wall like it was waiting for something sinful.
He closed the door.
The click echoed like a promise.
Then he leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest, muscles flexing in a way that made heat rush through me.
“Name?” he asked.
For a second I hesitated, mind blank.
“Riley,” I whispered.
His eyebrow arched - like he already knew I was lying - but he let it slide.
He pushed off the door and took one slow step toward me.
“You nervous, Riley?”
I swallowed. “A little.”
Another step.
He stopped right in front of me, close enough that his body heat wrapped around me.
“Good,” he murmured, voice thick and low.
His eyes dragged over my body like a slow touch.
“First time?”
I nodded.
“With a man?”
My voice barely came out. “With anyone.”
His jaw flexed.
Something dark passed through his eyes - possession.
He lifted a single finger and traced it down my arm. My skin erupted in goosebumps, my breath catching.
“Then you’re lucky,” he said softly.
“You picked me.”
I had no answer for that - my thoughts were melting.
He stepped back just enough to unlock the speaker on the table. A slow bass vibrated through the air, deep and sensual.
“Dance for me,” he said.
I blinked. “What?”
He sat back on the couch like a king settling on his throne - legs spread, arms stretched across the top.
“You came here to be claimed, didn’t you?”
Something in my stomach flipped hard.
He tilted his head.
“Or should I pick someone else?”
“No.” The word shot out before I could think.
I took a breath, let my hips start moving to the rhythm. At first I felt stupid, awkward - but then I remembered Zara’s instructions:
“Look hot. Act innocent. Let him ruin you.”
Heat crawled up my neck as I swayed my hips, fingers brushing my thighs, my eyes half-lidded as I moved.
His gaze sharpened. His jaw tightened.
He looked like he wanted to bite.
“That’s it, kitten,” he murmured.
“Let go.”
When I got close enough, he reached out and pulled me onto his lap like I weighed nothing.
I gasped as my thighs slid across his, settling right over something hard and heavy beneath his sweatpants.
His hands gripped my hips - firm, hot, claiming.
“Can I touch you?” he asked.
I nodded breathlessly.
His voice dropped.
“Say it.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Yes who?”
My stomach dropped.
“Y-yes, Daddy.”
His grip tightened, and a soft groan slipped from him.
“Good girl.”
His fingers slid up my bare thighs, slow like he was savoring the moment. He stopped right under the hem of my top, his thumbs grazing the soft skin under my breasts, not touching - just teasing, just building heat until I couldn’t think.
Then he leaned in and brushed his lips along my neck, warm and slow.
When his tongue came out to lick the same spot, metal touched my skin.
I gasped.bHe smirked right against my throat.
“Didn’t expect the piercing, did you?”
“No…” I breathed.
“You’ll love it later,” he whispered.
“Trust me.”
His mouth travelled up my neck - tiny kisses, warm breaths, teasing licks - until his lips brushed mine.
“Still want this?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
“Yes,” I whispered again, barely holding myself together.
He growled softly, then kissed me.
And that kiss - Goodness.
it wasn’t gentle.
It was hungry. Deep. Filthy.
His tongue claimed mine immediately, slow strokes that made heat pool lower in my stomach.
The piercing dragged against my tongue and I moaned - quiet, breathless, involuntary.
He kissed like he wanted to taste every sound I made.
His hands slid to my waist, pulling me tighter against him. I could feel him - hard, thick - pressing right between my legs, sending sparks up my spine.
I broke from the kiss with a shaky breath. “Daddy…”
He cupped my jaw and kissed me again, harder this time, sucking gently on my lower lip before letting it go with a soft, wet sound.
“You want more?” he asked.
I nodded, trembling. “Please.”
He stood up with me in his arms - just stood, lifting me effortlessly. My legs wrapped around him instinctively.
He carried me to the bed and laid me down slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.
Then he hovered over me, his lips barely brushing mine as he whispered:
“You belong to me tonight.”
“I belong to you,” I breathed.
A slow, satisfied smirk curved his mouth.
“Good girl.”
He kissed me again - slow, deep, consuming - his hair brushing my cheek, his thumb stroking my jaw like I was something delicate he wanted to ruin gently.
Then he pulled back just enough to whisper against my lips:
“Now let me teach you how it feels when a man really wants you.”
His mouth crashed onto mine again, and heat rolled through me like a wave I couldn’t fight even if I tried.
And that was the moment-
I stopped being nervous.
And started burning.
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