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Then he soaped his finger again and pushed it into my bottom, making me cry out.

“Daddy, nooooo…”

“Hold still, good girl. You don’t want to be a bad girl and earn Daddy’s cock here.” His finger thrust in deeper, stretching the tiny hole open, and I buried my face into the crook of his neck, clinging to him at the threat.

I didn’t want his huge cock in that tiny space.

I was mostly sure of it.

Even if part of me was horribly curious as to how it would feel. How it could possibly fit. If his finger made me feel this full, what would his cock do?

He pushed his finger back and forth several times, almost as though it was a small cock, fucking my little hole, before he finally pulled it free. My bottom stung from the insertion, tingling, and my pussy was wetter than it had been before.

Eventually Tomas lifted me out of the tub and dried me off. He sat me on the toilet lid so he could brush the short strands of my hair and then my teeth. I remained there while he took care of his own evening routine, which consisted of brushing his own teeth and splashing his face with some water.

I started to get to my feet when he turned back to me, but he scowled and I found myself being picked up again. Sighing, I put my arms around his neck.

The fact that both of us were now totally naked did not bother me. I was used to being naked all the time, it was the pretty clothing that unnerved me. And I didn’t mind Tomas naked at all. I traced my fingers over some of the scars on his chest as he carried me to the bed. They were faint, old, but still there.

“What are these from?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Things.”

Very illuminating. But I wasn’t sure if he was keeping mum because he didn’t trust me, or because he just wasn’t much of a talker. It could be a bit of both.

Settling us both into the bed, Tomas slid in behind me, curling his body around mine. I felt his cock prodding at my poor pussy, which couldn’t possibly take another round of fucking, and tried to squirm away.

“Daddy, noooooo.” It felt like that was half of what I was saying to him today. “I can’t do it again… please… I’ll use my hand.”’

“Hush, little flower,” he murmured, hauling me against his chest. His arm was over me like a cage, his hand curving around my breast. My traitorous body tingled. “We’re not going to fuck, you’re just going to keep Daddy’s cock warm for him tonight.”

I didn’t believe him, because I could feel how hard he was as he slid into me from behind, his groin coming to rest against my buttocks while his thick cock impaled me… but once he was inside me, he didn’t move. I was the problem, with my muscles clenching around him, the desire to squirm almost impossible to resist. He was so big and hard and I was so full….

But he didn’t move even as I squirmed against him, and eventually I fell asleep to the rhythmic sensation of my pussy clenching around the hard cock that I was so very full of.

Chapter Twenty-One

Tomas

“How is Ivy settling in?” Don DiNardo asked me as we looked into the conservatory from the backyard.

“Good.”

It was a bustle of activity behind the glass, with Ivy pointing and giving orders. Hailey and Clara were there helping too. Aunt Serena and Aunt Maria had also stopped in during the past couple of days to help, though they were out doing one of their social luncheons right now.

So far, they had not brought Ivy to any of them, but she did not seem interested either. Her only interest was in the conservatory, and I had to drag her away every night to go to bed. Last night I’d solved the problem by bending her over one of the garden beds, spanking her until she was crying into the dirt, and then fucking her until she was screaming into it.

Maybe tonight she’d be more cooperative about leaving when I said it was time… but part of me hoped she wouldn’t. I had no problem spanking her in one of the garden beds every night if that’s what it took.

“Good.” Don DiNardo nodded his head. “Serena likes her.”

“So do Hailey and Clara,” Jack said. “Hailey says Ivy gave Clara something that helps with her nausea.”

Clara was pregnant, and had been sick as a dog every morning since the wedding.

“Mmm. Good,” Don DiNardo repeated. “I had my doubts about her, but she seems as though she’s fitting in well. And she seems happy with you, Tomas, although maybe not as happy as she is with the conservatory.” He turned, clapping me on the shoulder, and kept walking. Jack and I trailed behind him.

There was something on his mind and it wasn’t my wife.