CHAPTER EIGHT

“I think you enjoy throwing me off guard.”

The words slipped past Leah’s lips without her bidding.

Christophe was looming over her, his presence bigger than ever, and the longer he stared down at her, hunger and anticipation gleaming in his eyes, the more Leah could feel her resistance crumbling.

The side of his lips tilted upwards at her observation.

“Was that a question?” he asked

She blinked up at him, somewhat relieved he’d taken the bait and changed the conversation, even though she hadn’t spoken intentionally.

“It wasn’t, but it is now.”

“Most of the time, it isn’t intentional.”

“Really?”

“At first,” he conceded, “but seeing you wriggling around in your seat and avoiding my eyes like a little girl afraid of being punished…” he inhaled sharply as her gaze instinctively slid away from his. “Like right now Leah. It… does something to me.”

Leah cleared her throat which had gone suspiciously dry and mustered enough courage to meet his gaze, “Well, I’m not a little girl.”

She wet her lips nervously and Christophe tracked the movement of her tongue as if he’d targeted prey.

“And...why do you keep mentioning punishment?”

Daddy will always take care of this pussy.

Her heart stuttered.

“It’s somewhat similar to my urge to...how did you put it...throw you off guard? It’s...instinctive.”

"Instinctive?" Leah questioned incredulously.

Not seeming the least bit chagrined, he continued, "Mhmm. Whenever you do something carelessly, neglecting your safety and well-being. I find I have this… insatiable need to...discipline you, Leah. To make sure you don't do it again."

One of his hands came up to cup her cheek, his thumb gently smoothing the wrinkle that had appeared between her brows.

"Your safety and happiness should always be your priority Leah," he instructed more seriously, before adding, "as they seem to have become mine as well."

Leah didn't know how to respond to any of that.

"In a way, that kind of makes you my little girl, doesn't it?"

And she was definitely going to ignore that hum of pleasure in her chest area that appeared at his question.

She had to keep reminding herself how bad this entire situation was, because neither her body, nor her heart seemed to be listening.

"I'm a grown woman," she insisted stubbornly.

His smile became indulgent, "Indeed."

"And I certainly don't belong—" her words were cut short when he abruptly sealed his lips over hers. It wasn't really a kiss at first. It seemed to Leah, that was just his way of shutting her up. Her body didn't care though, especially when he licked along the seam of her lips, demanding entrance. And she gave it to him.

Or he took it.

She didn't know at this point.

She didn't care.

This kiss seemed to settle whatever internal debate she'd been having. It calmed and soothed and aroused all in one go.

She couldn't remember why she'd questioned her attraction to him. Didn’t want to.

All she needed was...whatever Christophe Bridgeway chose to give her.

He lifted his mouth from hers, his dark, hungry gaze assessing her expression.

"You feel that, little one?"

"Yes," she answered, though she wasn't sure what that was.

His palm brushed against her cheek lightly before drifting down to neck, applying a slight pressure that caused Leah to hold her breath.

"Do you feel how my touch settles everything inside you?"

His eyes bore into hers, holding her captive.

"But at the same time, it's making this tight little pussy wet and ready for me isn't it?"

His hand tightened slightly at her throat and there was an answering tightening between her legs that caused an involuntary moan to slip past her lips, her eyes sliding closed.

"Eyes on me, little girl," he growled.

She must have lost her mind...again. When her gaze returned to him, she saw his eyes were different, they were changing...glowing.

"Answer me," his voice sounded different too, deeper...huskier.

She wasn't and expert by any means, but she knew enough about werewolves to know his animal side was making an appearance.

Leah wondered why that didn't raise any sense of apprehension in her.

"Yes."

Somehow, admitting that his touch made her wet, didn't embarrass her or make her nervous as it normally would. With him looming over her, his hand at her throat, like an anchor to her usually rioting emotions, nothing they said or did to each other was embarrassing or wrong.

"What do you call me when you need me to ease that ache between your legs, little girl?"

Her mind didn't stumble over finding answer for him. She knew instinctively what he wanted to hear. What she needed to say.

"Daddy."

The glowing in his eyes became more apparent.

"Fuck yes," he groaned, capturing her mouth a second time, his tongue not bothering to request permission, but plundering, licking inside, pulling a desperate moan from her.

Without coming up tor air, his hand at her throat slid down her front, scathing past her needy nipples, testing a distended peak with barely a brush before his fingers settled confidently between her legs.

Leah pulled her lips away, fighting to get air into her lungs. Just the feel of his palm cupping her caused a dizzying sort of pleasure to course through her limbs. She arched her back, trying get the friction she needed in order to survive, but his hand stubbornly remained immobile.

"Please," she cried, she was desperate enough to beg. She didn't understand the swift change her body had undergone. One moment she was pleasantly aroused and the next, pleasure was clawing at her seams, unable to be contained in her small frame.

"Please, Daddy."

"Poor baby," Christophe soothed, the guttural sound of his voice at odds with his tone. His lips move to her neck, licking and nibbling. A single finger moved along her panty-covered slit, slowly, torturously, applying just enough pressure to drive her insane, but not enough to send her over the edge.

"Didn't I promise to always take care of this pussy?"

She wasn't sure if he required an answer but she nodded blindly, her lower body twisting in search of the end she knew was coming. His finger continued to glide back and forth, steadily increasing the pressure whenever he reached her clit, drawing more wetness to the cotton material of her panties.

"I'll always give you what you need, baby. And right now, you seem to need Daddy's cock, don't you?"

Before she responded, his fingers slipped beneath the fabric, the talented digits encountering a warm, slick, welcome as he slid two fingers inside her, and pressed his thumb on her nub almost painfully.

It all happened so fast, he body almost didn't know how to react. But then it did.

It shattered. And Leah had to hold on to Christophe for purchase, because it felt like she was going to disintegrate. The climax stole her breath, and she could do nothing but sob as the pulses of pleasure continued in wave after wave, as his fingers moved in and out of her with a speed that was maddening.

"Fuck!" Christopher growled, "So fucking gorgeous when you're soaking your Daddy's hand with your cum."

His words caused another wave of pleasure to crest through her.

"Feel how this pussy is sucking at my fingers little girl? That's because it needs more than just Daddy's fingers."

He pulled his fingers from her opening and Leah opened her eyes to see him licking moisture from his hand, his gaze roving over her with a beastly glow.

"Tight as you are, baby, you're still gonna take my cock beautifully."

He raised his upper body from hers, and Leah was momentarily afraid he was leaving, but her leaping heart quieted when he simply started undoing the belt at his waist.

Leah simply watched him silently, afraid the sound of her own voice would break the spell, and she needed this.

Needed him.

At least right now.

Christophe hands worked impatiently until finally, his zipper was undone.

Leah held her breath in anticipation. She'd had sex all of one time when she was sixteen and she'd been too afraid to stare at her boyfriend's penis at the time. So, in all honesty, she'd never seen a real penis this up close and personal before. She was surprised at how much she was looking forward to it.

She saw the waist of his grey boxer shorts and Christophe's hand disappeared into the material before…

An alarm went off.