She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother

Chapter 337: Surrender – III

“You… you can take the rest of me, Sir.”

Jennifer’s voice cracked on the words, desperation bleeding through every syllable.

“All of me.”

The plea hung in the air between them… pathetic, broken, everything she’d never imagined herself saying to anyone.

But she was past caring about dignity. Past caring about anything except keeping him from walking away.

Alex stared down at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable behind the mask.

Then something shifted in his posture.

“You really are her daughter,” he said quietly.

Before Jennifer could process the words, his hands were on her. He gripped her waist and lifted her off the floor in one smooth motion.

“Ah—!”

The cry escaped her throat as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms flying up to circle his neck for balance.

The position pressed her directly against him.

Her pussy lips settled along the length of his cock, the heat of him searing against her most sensitive skin even through the slickness coating her thighs.

’Oh god.’

Jennifer’s breath stopped completely.

She could feel every inch of him beneath her. The thick, rigid shaft trapped between them. The pulsing heat that seemed to burn straight through to her core.

Her hands trembled against his shoulders as he adjusted his grip, shifting her weight to settle her more firmly against him.

The movement dragged her wet folds along his length, the friction sending a jolt of sensation through her that made her gasp.

“I hope you can handle this, little girl,” Alex said, his voice carrying the weight of a challenge.

He turned and began walking toward the dining room. Each step made her slide slightly against him, the pressure and friction building with every movement.

Jennifer’s eyes went wide as he pushed through the door and she saw where he was taking her.

The dining table.

Long. Solid. Mahogany.

She looked up at him, meeting the blank mask.

And despite everything… the fear, the humiliation, the overwhelming sensation of him pressed against her… Jennifer felt relief flood through her.

’He’s not leaving me.’

“I will,” she whispered, the words barely audible.

But he heard them.

His grip on her tightened.

And his smile, just visible beneath the mask, sharpened into something predatory.

Alex reached the table and without warning, threw her down onto the polished surface.

“Ahh!”

Jennifer’s back hit the hard mahogany with brutal force, the impact driving the air from her lungs.Pain bloomed across her shoulder blades and spine.

She looked up at him, her eyes watering, a silent complaint written across her flushed face.

’That hurt… ’

But before she could voice it, his hands were on her rumpled silk top.

He gripped the fabric and pulled.

The delicate material tore away easily, the sound of ripping silk sharp in the quiet room.

Jennifer gasped as the last barrier between her and his gaze disappeared, leaving her completely naked on the table.

Exposed.

Her hands twitched with the instinct to cover herself, but she forced them to stay at her sides.

She looked up at him shyly, her breath coming in shallow bursts, searching his masked face for some reaction.

Approval. Desire. Anything.

But the mask gave nothing away. His expression remained maddeningly neutral as his eyes traveled down her exposed body with clinical assessment.

Disappointment curled in her stomach.

’Nothing?’

Then his hands moved. His fingers found her nipples and twisted.

Hard.

“AHHH!”

Jennifer’s scream tore through the room as sharp pain lanced through her breasts.

Her back arched off the table, her hands flying up to grab his wrists, but he didn’t release the pressure.

Just held her there, twisted, watching her face contort.

“Small,” he said, his voice almost conversational. “But enough.”

The words landed like a slap.

Not beautiful. Not perfect. Not desirable.

Just… adequate.

Fresh humiliation burned through Jennifer’s chest, mixing with the pain radiating from her abused nipples.

​”Do you know this table, Jennifer?” Alex rumbled, his voice a low, terrifying vibration in the hollow room.

She blinked, confused by the question.

’What?’

He leaned forward, his shadow swallowing her, pinning her beneath his weight.

“This is where I fucked your mother for the first time.”

Jennifer’s breath stopped.

“Exactly where you’re lying now.”

His hands tightened on her thighs, spreading her wider.

“I bent her over this table and made her scream. Made her beg. Made the great Vivienne Vanderbilt forget she was anything but mine.”

​Jennifer’s breath hitched.

It didn’t disgust her; it set her blood on fire. The competitive rot in her soul screamed that she had to be better. She had to take more. She had to survive what they couldn’t.

​”Sir… please,” she sobbed, her legs shaking as she pulled them back, opening herself to him in a gesture of total, frantic invitation.

“Fuck me harder than her. Break me… make me forget her name.”

​”A bold request,” Alex smirked.

​He didn’t waste time with gentleness. He stepped between her knees, his hands catching her thighs and pinning them wide.

​Then, he began the piercing. He moved with a slow, agonizingly steady pressure, forcing her body to accept the impossible mass of him inch by inch.

​”Annhhh—!”

​Jennifer’s head snapped back, a sharp, ragged scream tearing from her throat and echoing off the vaulted ceiling. It felt like her world was being split in two. The pain was sharp, a white-hot line of fire, but the sensation of being occupied by him was so overwhelming that her mind simply fractured.

​”Look at me,” Alex commanded, his voice cold and absolute.

​Jennifer forced her eyes open, her vision swimming with tears. She saw the dark mask, the predatory curve of his lips, and the sheer, unyielding power of a man who didn’t care about her pedigree.

​He pushed deeper, bottoming out against her with a heavy, visceral thud.

​”AHHHH—GOD!”

​Jennifer’s back arched into a rigid, trembling bridge. She was gasping, her fingers clawing at the mahogany, leaving shallow scratches in the expensive finish. It was too much—she felt like she was being dismantled from the inside out.

​But she didn’t pull away.

​Driven by a manic, self-destructive resolve, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. She wouldn’t be left behind. She wouldn’t be the “brat” who couldn’t handle the Master.

​”Yes… just like that,” Alex rumbled, his pace beginning to shift from a slow pierce to a brutal, rhythmic execution.

​He began to move in earnest, each strike a physical blow that sent Jennifer sliding across the table, her head thrashing against the wood. The wet, rhythmic slaps of their collision filled the room, a steady, obscene drumbeat that marked the end of her innocence.

​”Take it, Jennifer,” Alex hissed into her ear, his breath hot and demanding. “Take all of it. Show me you’re worth.”

​”I… I am!” she screamed, her voice a ruin of high-pitched gasps and sobs. “I’m… yours! Anhh! Sir! Master! MORE!”

The mahogany table groaned under the rhythmic violence of their collision, the sound a dull, heavy percussion that matched the pounding of Jennifer’s heart.

​She was no longer fighting the pain; she was consuming it. Every brutal thrust that pinned her against the wood felt like a brand, searing the Vanderbilt name out of her skin and replacing it with his mark. Her head thrashed against the polished surface, her blonde hair a tangled silk halo dampened by sweat and tears.

​”Faster!” she choked out, her fingers digging so hard into Alex’s shoulders that her nails drew white crescents in his skin. “Please… Sir… more! Don’t… don’t stop!”

​She was chasing the precipice, her internal walls finally relaxing, allowing him to bottom out against her with a wet, visceral thud that made her entire frame vibrate. The competitive fire in her gut had turned into a total, mindless surrender. She didn’t care if she broke; she wanted to be shattered.

​”That’s it,” Alex rumbled, his voice a dark, jagged purr near her ear. He didn’t slow down. He increased the friction, his hips slamming into her with a mechanical, relentless force that sent white sparks across her vision.

“Take the weight of it, Jennifer. Show me you’re not just a puppet.”

​”I am… I’m… AH!”

​She arched her back, her legs locking around his waist with a strength she didn’t know she possessed. She was right there… the world was narrowing to a single point of blinding, agonizing heat…

​CREAK.

​The sound was sharp, the protest of heavy hinges cutting through the humid, rhythmic noise of the room like a gunshot.