Chapter 133 - ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY THREE

Chapter 133: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY THREE

ANGEL

"You’re not my dadd—"

"I’m the only Daddy you’ve got now." His thumb pressed harder on my clit, rubbing viciously. "Might as well accept it. The sooner you do, the easier this becomes. Or harder. Depending on how you look at it."

One more flick of his thumb and I came. The euphoria rippled through my body without permission. Draining every ounce of strength from my body.

"See how much pleasure you get when you listen?" Damien groaned, fucking me through it with relentless thrusts that didn’t slow for a second. "I knew my good girl is still somewhere in there. Milking Daddy’s cock with that tight little cunt. Now say my name," he demanded, still pounding into me with even strokes. "Say whose cock is making you come. I want to hear it from those pretty lips."

"N-no—"

He slapped my clit directly—sharp—and a fresh gush of wetness flooded out of me, soaking his cock. The humiliation burned through me even as another wave of pleasure crested.

"Wrong answer. Say it."

"No!"

Slap.

Slap.

SLAP.

Each impact sent shockwaves through my oversensitive flesh, pulling sounds from me I couldn’t control. I was screaming without realizing it.

"Damien!" The name tore from my throat against my will, ripped out by sensation I couldn’t fight.

"And whose cock is better? Mine or Vincenzo’s?"

"Fuck you—"

He slapped my pussy again, then rubbed the sting with the pad of his thumb while his cock continued its assault, never breaking rhythm. Another gush of liquid escaped me, humiliating and unstoppable.

"I’ll keep asking until you answer correctly. Whose cock makes this pussy squirt like a fucking fountain? Whose cock makes you lose control like this?"

"V-Vincenzo—" I sobbed, throwing the name at him like a weapon, wanting it to hurt.

"WRONG."

He pulled out, slapped his cock against my clit three times in rapid succession—each impact making me jerk and gush—then slammed back inside with brutal force that made stars explode behind my eyes.

"Try again. Whose cock is buried inside you right now? Whose cock is making you soak the bed like you’re trying to flood the fucking room? Whose cum is about to fill this fertile little cunt?" He hissed through gritted teeth. "I have all day for this, Angel. All week. All fucking year. You won’t win. I won’t stop fucking you until you tell me whose cock this is."

He was destroying me. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t fight. Could only feel. His hips rammed into me furiously, relentlessly, each thrust driving thought further from my grasp. I was screaming until my voice was hoarse, until my throat was raw.

"WHOSE COCK IS MAKING YOU CRY FROM PLEASURE?"

He pinched my clit. Hard. Painful and yet... Explosive.

"Yours," I sobbed, the word torn from somewhere deep. "Yours, Damien. Your cock—"

"Good girl." He thrust harder, rewarding my surrender. "My cock. My pussy. My cum. Mine. All of it fucking mine."

But he didn’t stop.

His fingers kept working my clit, his cock kept pounding into me, not giving me a moment to recover, and rebuild my defenses. The aftershocks of the first orgasm hadn’t even faded before a second one started building, coiling tight in my core.

"Damien—" I gasped, my voice wrecked, barely recognizable as my own.

"Again." His eyes were dark with command, his voice thick with lust and triumph. "You’re going to come again. And again. Until you can’t remember his face."

He changed his angle so I was on top of him, hitting deeper, harder, finding places inside me that made my mind go blank.

He slapped my ass hard, the crack echoing through the room, then grabbed the stinging flesh, using the grip to pull me onto his cock with every thrust.

"I’m going to make you come until you forget your own name. Until the only word you remember is mine. Until Damien is the only thing that exists in that pretty little head."

His fingers found my neck and yanked me down, his hot wet mouth finding my breast, sucking my nipple hard until it was swollen and sensitive from his attention. The sensation was overwhelming—his cock stretching me, his mouth torturing my nipple with teeth and tongue. Too much. It was too much.

"Please stop—" I begged, hating myself for begging.

"Now, don’t start lying to yourself again." He released my nipple with a wet pop, looking up at me with that infuriating smirk. "Tell Daddy what you truly want. What your body is screaming for."

"I want—I want—you to stop."

His expression was smug, knowing. "I don’t believe you. You want to come again," he said. "Your body’s begging for it even if your mouth won’t admit it. I can feel your pussy squeezing me, trying to pull me deeper. Greedy little cunt can’t get enough."

He pulled out and slapped his cock against my clit again—once, twice, three times—watching my whole body jerk with each impact. Each slap made me gush, made wetness flood down my thighs, puddle on his stomach, soak into the mattress beneath us.

"Look at this mess," he groaned, running his fingers through the wetness coating his abs, his cock, his balls. "Look how much you’re leaking for me. All this cum, all this cream—and you’re still trying to pretend you don’t want this. You can’t lie to both of us."

He brought his wet fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Fucking delicious. Sweet and musky and all mine. Has Vincenzo ever made you squirt this much? Ever bathe him in your juices like this? Did he ever get to taste you fresh from the source?"

"Stop talking about him—"

"Answer me." He slapped his cock against my pussy again, and another embarrassing gush escaped me. "Did Vincenzo ever make you this wet? Did he ever make you lose control like this? Did he ever make this pretty pussy weep for him the way it weeps for me?"

I was sobbing, tears and sweat mingling on my face. I didn’t respond. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

He thrust back inside, harder, faster.

"Let go," he commanded. "Stop fighting and give me what I want. Come for your Daddy."

The second orgasm crashed through me even harder than the first. My voice broke on a sound that was half pleasure and half agony. I felt myself clench around him, felt the gush of wetness as I squirted all over his cock, his thighs, his stomach.

"Fuck yes," he groaned, watching it happen with hungry, fascinated eyes. "There it is. Fuck, you’re beautiful when you squirt."

I could feel it—the shameful flood of release soaking the sheets beneath us. My body betraying me in ways I couldn’t stop.

"One more," Damien said, his voice rough with need. "Give me one more and then I’ll fill this pussy up with my cum."

"I can’t—please—no more—"

"Yes, more." He grabbed my hips, lifting them off the bed, changing the angle so his cock hit even deeper, touched places that made my eyes roll back. "You’re going to give me one more orgasm, Angel. And then you’re going to feel me come inside you. I’ll fill you up until you’re overflowing."

His hand came down on my ass again, the slap echoing through the room, and my pussy clenched around him in response.

"Fuck yes," he groaned, watching the liquid run down his cock. "Squeeze my cock every time I spank this pretty ass. Show me how much you love it."