Chapter 6 Sloane #2
He works his way down my chest, but when he reaches my breasts he doesn't go straight for my nipples. Instead, he traces the undersides with his tongue.
"These gorgeous tits," he groans. "I've been dreaming about how they'd taste."
"Please taste them," I beg.
He rewards my begging by closing his mouth over one stiff peak.
I cry out, my back bowing off the couch. He sucks hard, then gentles, then sucks again—an unpredictable rhythm that has me writhing. His other hand rolls and pinches my other nipple until I'm making sounds I don't recognize.
"My sensitive girl," he murmurs against my skin, switching to give the other breast the same treatment. "I love how every little touch makes you shake."
"You seem to know my body intuitively," I manage. "I'm only like this for you."
His groan vibrates against my nipple, and I feel it all the way to my core. He spends long minutes there, licking and sucking and nibbling until my nipples are swollen and tender and I'm practically sobbing with need.
Finally, his tongue traces down the center of my stomach, following the faint groove of muscle. When he reaches my navel, he dips inside, swirling, and I gasp.
"Found another sensitive spot," he says smugly, doing it again just to watch me squirm. "I'm going to memorize everything that makes you gasp and writhe, sweetheart."
"You're killing me already."
He chuckles and nips at my hip bone, then kisses across to my other hip, teeth grazing the curve, his hands sliding down to grip my thighs and spread them wider. I'm completely open to him now, exposed and desperate and so wet I may have to get a new couch.
He’s staring. "So pretty," he breathes. "So slick and swollen and ready for me. All for your Daddy."
"Yes," I whimper. "Only for you."
"That's my good girl."
Then he lowers his mouth and just that first long lick has me quivering.
He kisses and licks through my folds like he's savoring a delicacy, his tongue exploring every inch of me. When he brushes near my clit, I cry out, hands flying to his hair.
"Oh god—"
I moan and roll my hips, as he licks and sucks at my folds, teasing my clit with his lips, then flattening his tongue over it. And the pressure builds fast, coiling tight in my belly. I'm right there, right on the edge—
And he pulls back.
"Ike…” I whine, my hips chasing his mouth.
He holds me down with one hand splayed across my lower belly, keeping me pinned while he goes back to work…even slower this time.
His tongue traces lazy patterns through my folds, avoiding my clit entirely. He dips lower to circle my entrance, then drags back up through my wetness, stopping just short of my throbbing bundle of nerves.
"Ike, please—"
"Please what, baby?" He presses a kiss to my inner thigh, maddeningly casual. "Tell Daddy what you need."
“I need—please touch my clit.”
"This sensitive little clit?" He brushes his thumb over it once, featherlight, and my whole body jerks. "You want Daddy's mouth here?"
"Yes, sir! Yes, please!"
He lowers his head and gives me exactly what I asked for—his lips closing around the swollen bud, sucking gently.
The pressure builds instantly, and I moan loudly, as I’m brought right back to the edge, my limbs trembling…
And he pulls back.
"Nooo…" I wail. His hand under my navel holds me down, helpless.
"I decide when you come, Sloane,” he says, his voice dark and commanding. "And I'm not done playing with this sweet pussy yet."
His stern words send another gush of arousal through me.
He slides two thick fingers inside me. “Hmm, for all your whining, little girl, you sure do like it when I tell you your place,” he purrs. He doesn’t move his fingers, it's like he just wants me to feel them inside me…as his mouth goes back to teasing.
He continues with long, slow licks up and down my folds…and soft kisses to my outer lips. His tongue dips into my entrance alongside his fingers, tasting me.
"You're dripping all over my hand, sweetheart." He sounds wrecked, beyond aroused. "Making such a mess. Do you hear how wet you are?"
I can hear it—the obscene, slick sounds of his fingers shifting inside me. My cheeks flush hot, but it only makes me wetter.
"That's it," he praises, pumping his fingers slowly now. "Give me more. Daddy wants it all."
He crooks his fingers and rubs that devastating spot inside me while his tongue finally slides against my clit in quick, teasing strokes that send lightning up my spine.
I'm climbing again, faster this time. My thighs are quivering, every muscle in my body winding tighter and tighter—
And he stops again.
Pulling his fingers out completely and lifting his mouth away.
"No, no, nooo—” I'm actually nearly crying in frustration now. "Daddy, I can't—"
He presses soothing kisses to my inner thighs while I shake. "You can take it. You're doing so well for me."
"I can't," I sob.
"You can." His voice is firm, but sweet. "Because Daddy's telling you to. And you want to be good for Daddy, don't you?"
I whimper, nodding desperately.
"That's my girl." He rewards me by sliding his fingers back inside, and I clench around them greedily. "So obedient and eager to please me."
He starts pumping again, still slow, but deeper now, stretching me with each thrust. He circles my clit lazily with his tongue, just enough pressure to keep me on edge.
"This greedy little pussy is just starved for attention," he murmurs, his eyes fixed on where his fingers disappear inside me.
"Yes…" My hips try to roll with his motions.
"It wants to squeeze and clench and come all over Daddy's hand, doesn’t it?"
I nod vigorously. "Yes, please let me.”
"Not yet." He curls his fingers and rubs against my g-spot and I yelp. "I want you desperate. I want you mindless. I want you so far gone that when I finally let you come, you forget your own name."
“Oh Daddy…” I'm there. I'm already there. I couldn't tell you my name right now if my life depended on it.
He builds me up again—fingers pumping steadily, my mouth now back to sucking my clit, then dragging his tongue over me, then sucking again. The pressure winds tighter and tighter, my whole body shaking with the effort of holding back.
"That's it, baby. Ride that edge for me." His voice is strained now, his own control clearly slipping. "You're so fucking beautiful like this. Flushed and trembling and completely at my mercy."
"Daddy…” My voice breaks. "Please—I'm begging you.”
"What are you begging for, sweetheart? Say it."
"Let me come," I cry. "Please, Daddy, I need it so bad…"
"Such a good girl. You've earned it." He smiles and then seals his mouth over my clit while his fingers begin driving into me in a relentless rhythm. "Come," he commands against my slick flesh. "Come on Daddy's tongue. Now."
And I’m done for…
…exploding with such intensity I think I might black out for a few seconds before screaming his name—or maybe just a wordless cry of release—my whole body convulsing as pleasure crashes over me.
“That’s it. Give all that sweet cream to me,” he whispers, working me through it, slowing his touch as I come down, then licking up my climax.
I'm still trembling when he rises up over me, and I see he's raging hard again. Or maybe he never stopped being hard. Either way, his cock is thick and ready, and the look in his eyes is nearly penetrating enough.
"I need to be inside you," he rasps. "I need to fuck you and make you mine."
“I’m on the pill,” I breathe, reaching for him. "Take me, Daddy."
He pulls back just long enough to strip off the rest of his clothes, and I drink in the sight of him.
His shoulders are firm and broad, arms ripped, his chest defined with the perfect amount of silver hair.
His muscled stomach is rugged and sexy, and his ass is tight and biteable (which I so plan to do at some point).
He moves over me, positioning his cock at my entrance, and pauses. "Look at me."
I lock my eyes with his.
"I want to see your face when I claim you."
He pushes in slowly, and we both groan at the feeling. He stretches me more than I expect, filling me up completely. I feel every inch of him as he sinks deeper, and by the time he's all the way in, I'm trembling.
"You’re so tight and wet," he says. "So fucking wonderful."
Then he starts to thrust.
He goes slow at first. Long, deep strokes that hit the best places inside me. But I can feel his control fraying, can feel the tension in his muscles as he fights it.
"Don't hold back," I tell him, wrapping my legs around his waist. "I can take it, Daddy. I want it all."
“Oh, sweetheart…” The next thrust is hard. And exquisite. He thrusts into me again and again, his body slapping against mine, driving into me with raw unrestrained power.
"This pussy belongs to me now," he growls against my ear.
"It’s yours, Daddy" I gasp.
"That's right." He shifts the angle slightly and I nearly choke with the depth. "Is this big cock hitting all those hidden, neglected places, baby?"
"Yes—oh god, yes."
"You want this cock to fill you up?"
"Please…"
He's relentless. Every thrust drives me higher, and his filthy words in my ear push me closer to the edge. I'm clawing at his back, leaving marks I'll probably feel guilty about later, but right now all I can do is hold on.
"Who do you belong to?" he demands.
"You, Daddy. Only you."
"That's my good girl." He pounds into me, deep and hard. "You feel so fucking good wrapped around me. Made for me."
I'm close…so close. The pressure builds again while his cock drives into me, taking me higher.
"One more time, sweetheart," he groans, his rhythm starting to falter. "Come with Daddy."
I detonate in two seconds.
But this orgasm is somehow different from the others—deeper, fuller, flowing through me in unending waves. My inner walls clench around him and he roars into the night like an animal.
“Sloane…” he groans afterward, his whole body shuddering with the force of it, his seed pouring into me.
He continues to casually thrust into me as he sits up a bit, breathing hard, sweaty, and completely destroyed.
He doesn't pull out immediately. Instead, he stays inside me, pressing kisses to every part of my face.
"You okay, baby?" he asks softly. "Was that too much?"
I laugh, the sound breathless and a little giddy. "No, Daddy…you're perfect."
"Far from it." He finally pulls out, and I whimper at the loss of him. He brushes the hair from my face, his touch achingly soft. "Stay right here. Don't move."
He disappears, and I hear him moving around in my kitchen. A drawer opens. The water runs. But I'm still too tired to sit up yet and see what he's doing.
He returns with a glass of water, a warm damp cloth, and ice wrapped in a kitchen towel.
And just like that, he's back to taking care of me.
"Drink," he says, pressing the glass into my hand.
I sit up enough so I can drink, and while I do Ike gently cleans me up with the cloth. The care he takes—the thoroughness, the tenderness—makes my throat tight with emotion.
Then he lifts my leg and places the ice pack on my knee.
"Ike, I'm fine.“
He gives me a look. That look. The one that brooks no argument.
I shut up.
"You were on your feet too much today," he says, adjusting the ice pack. "This needs attention. And since you won't take care of it yourself, I'll do it for you."
I should probably be annoyed at being bossed around. Instead, I feel like I might cry.
He finds the throw blanket draped over the back of my armchair and wraps me up in it, then settles onto the couch and pulls me against his chest. I burrow into him, surrounded by his warmth, his scent, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
We lie there in silence for a while. I'm drowsy, warm, and completely content in a way I've never been before.
“I’m going to buy you a new couch,” he says eventually. “We destroyed this one.”
I chuckle. “Maybe.” I kiss his neck. "Stay with me tonight."
He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Wasn't planning on leaving, sweetheart. Unless you told me to go."
"I want you here."
He presses a kiss to the top of my head. "Good. Because I've got tomorrow off. I'm planning to sleep in and then spend the whole day spoiling my little girl."
My heart squeezes at the promise in those words. At the future they imply.
Will there ever be another man who makes me feel this way?
I don't think so.
And I don't want there to be.
I snuggle deeper into his arms, letting my eyes drift closed.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Sloane," he murmurs.
I smile against his chest.
Yes, Happy Valentine's Day to me.