6. Faye
FAYE
My breath catches, sharp and sudden, as the haze of sleep peels away. Flynn is in bed with me. The heat of him presses against my back, his chest solid and unyielding, his breath warm against the nape of my neck.
And then—oh God—then I feel him. Thick, heavy, buried deep inside me, stretching me open in a way that makes my toes curl against the sheets.
A whimper claws its way up my throat, my hips jerking back instinctively, seeking more. His hand slides up my thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding me still.
"Hey," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep and something darker, something that sends a shiver down my spine. "You're awake."
His hips roll forward, slow and deliberate, his cock dragging against every sensitive inch of me. My back arches, my nails scraping against the sheets as pleasure coils tight in my belly.
"Flynn…" His name tumbles out of me, breathless, needy.
"Say it right," he growls, his teeth grazing the shell of my ear. His free hand slides up my body, fingers wrapping around my throat, not tight enough to hurt, just enough to remind me who's in control. "Who's inside you, Faye? Who owns this tight little cunt?"
A whimper escapes me, my hips rolling back against his, my body betraying me even as my mind stumbles over the word. "Daddy," I whisper, the word tasting like sin on my tongue.
His grip on my throat tightens just enough to make my pulse spike, his cock slamming into me with a force that steals my breath. "That's my good girl," he murmurs, his voice a dark purr. "Such a good girl for Daddy."
His hand leaves my throat, sliding down my body, fingers finding my clit with unerring precision.
He circles the sensitive nub, his touch rough and demanding, his cock pistoning in and out of me with a rhythm that has my vision blurring at the edges.
"You like that, don't you?" he growls, his lips brushing my ear.
"You like being Daddy giving you his cock while you're half-asleep. "
My breath hitches, my body tightening around him as pleasure coils tighter, hotter. "Yes," I gasp, my hips rolling back to meet his thrusts. "Yes, Daddy, please."
His fingers leave my clit, his hand sliding up to tangle in my hair, yanking my head back. His lips crash down on mine, his tongue invading my mouth, claiming me in a kiss that's all teeth and hunger.
"You want to come?" he murmurs against my lips, his hips snapping forward, his cock buried deep inside me. "You want Daddy to make you come all over his cock?"
I whimper, my body trembling, my hips rolling against his, desperate for more. "Please, Daddy," I beg, my voice breaking. "Please, I need?—"
His hand leaves my hair, sliding down my body, fingers finding my clit once more.
He circles the sensitive nub, his touch rough and demanding, his cock slamming into me with a force that has my vision whiting out.
"Come for me," he growls, his voice rough.
"Come all over Daddy's cock like a good girl. "
And I do.
My body shatters, pleasure crashing over me in waves, my vision blurring, my breath coming in ragged gasps. His name spills from my lips, over and over, a litany of need and surrender.
He groans, his hips snapping forward, his cock buried deep inside me as he finds his own release.
His breath is hot against my neck, his body trembling as he spills inside me, his cock pulsing with each thick rope of cum.
"Fuck, Faye," he growls, his voice rough.
"Such a good girl for Daddy. Taking every drop like you were made for it. "
His hand slides up my body, fingers tangling in my hair, pulling my head back. His lips brush my ear, his voice a dark promise. "I'm going to breed you," he murmurs. "Fill you up with my cum until it takes. Until you're round with my baby."
A whimper escapes me, my body trembling, my hips rolling back against his, my cunt clenching around his cock, milking him for every last drop. "Daddy," I whisper, the word a plea, a prayer.
He groans, his hips rolling forward, his cock buried deep inside me as he spills the last of his cum. His breath is ragged, his body trembling, his lips brushing my ear. "That's it," he murmurs. "Take it all. Every. Last. Drop."
And I do.
My body sags against his, spent and trembling, my breath coming in ragged gasps. His arms wrap around me, pulling me close, his lips brushing my temple. "Good girl," he murmurs, his voice soft, almost tender. "Such a good girl for Daddy."
I whimper, my body relaxing into his, my eyes fluttering shut. His cock is still inside me, softening but not yet slipping free, his cum leaking out around him, dripping down my thighs.
He doesn't pull out.
Instead, he holds me close, his breath evening out, his body relaxing behind mine. His hand slides up my body, fingers tangling in my hair, his lips brushing my ear. "Sleep," he murmurs. "Daddy's got you."
And I do.
The tasting room glows amber in the late afternoon light, long shadows stretching across the oak table where two glasses wait.
Flynn's fingers brush mine as he pours, the callouses rough against my skin, sending a shiver up my arm.
The wine catches the light… deep ruby, almost black at the core, the color of crushed velvet and secrets.
I lift the glass, swirling it slow, watching the legs cling to the crystal. The first sip hits my tongue like liquid silk, rich with blackberry and dark chocolate, a whisper of tobacco and something wilder, something that tastes like him.
Flynn watches me, those amber eyes sharp, assessing. "Well?"
"It's…" I swallow, the wine warming my throat, my chest. "It's good."
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. He leans back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight, and takes his own sip. His throat works, the stubble along his jaw catching the light. "Not perfect yet. But it will be."
I set my glass down, tracing the rim with my fingertip. "You always say that. Like nothing's ever enough."
His gaze flicks to mine, heavy, unreadable. "Because it's not."
The wine hums in my veins, loosening my tongue, my inhibitions. I lean forward, elbows on the table, the neckline of my blouse dipping just enough to catch his eye. "What about me, Daddy?"
His fingers tighten around his glass. The muscle in his jaw jumps. "You're perfect."
"Mmm." I take another sip, letting the wine coat my tongue. "Does that mean I get to come?"
A low sound rumbles in his chest. He sets his glass down with deliberate care, the crystal chiming against the wood. "If you've been a good girl."
I smile, slow and sweet. "What if I've been naughty?"
His hand shoots out, fingers wrapping around my wrist, yanking me forward. The table digs into my ribs, the wine sloshing in my glass, but I don't spill a drop. His breath is hot against my lips, his voice a dark promise. "Careful. You don't know what you're asking for."
I lick my lips, tasting wine and him. "Then show me."
His grip tightens, just shy of pain. His other hand slides up my thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh beneath my skirt. "You want to be shown, Faye? You want Daddy to remind you who's in charge?"
My breath hitches. My pulse throbs between my legs, wetness already slicking my thighs. "Yes."
His lips crash into mine, rough and demanding, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, claiming me. The taste of wine and him floods my senses, intoxicating, addictive. I moan into the kiss, my free hand fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer.
He breaks away with a growl, his lips brushing my ear. "Finish your wine."
I whimper, my body trembling, but I obey. I lift the glass, draining it in one long pull, the wine burning down my throat. He watches, his gaze dark, possessive.
When I set the glass down, he stands, pulling me up with him. His hands grip my hips, lifting me onto the table. The wood is cool against my thighs, a stark contrast to the heat of his body as he steps between my legs.
His fingers tangle in my hair, tilting my head back.
I gasp as his teeth graze my pulse point, my hands sliding up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt. "Please, Daddy."
His hand slides up my thigh, pushing my skirt higher, his fingers brushing the damp lace of my panties. "Please what, Faye? Use your words."
I whimper, my hips rolling, seeking more contact. "Please touch me. Please make me come."
His chuckle is dark, amused. "Greedy, are we?" His fingers hook into the waistband of my panties, pulling them down my thighs, over my knees, letting them drop to the floor. The cool air hits my wetness, making me shiver.
His hand slides back up my thigh, his fingers brushing my slick folds. "So wet for me already," he murmurs, his voice rough. "Such a good girl."
I moan as his fingers find my clit, circling the sensitive nub, his touch rough and demanding. My hips roll, my body seeking more, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
His lips brush my ear, his voice a dark promise. "You want to come? You want Daddy to make you come right here on this table?"
"Yes," I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders. "Yes, please, Daddy."
His fingers leave my clit, sliding down, teasing my entrance. "Beg for it."
I whimper, my body trembling, my hips rolling, desperate for more. "Please, Daddy," I beg, my voice breaking. "Please make me come. I need it. I need you."
His fingers slide inside me, curling, finding that spot that makes my vision blur. "That's it," he growls, his voice rough. "Take what Daddy gives you."
And I do.
My body shatters, pleasure crashing over me in waves, my vision blurring, my breath coming in ragged gasps. His name spills from my lips, over and over, a litany of need and surrender.
When I finally come back to myself, he's holding me close, his breath hot against my neck, his body solid and unyielding. His fingers are still inside me, his thumb brushing my clit, drawing out the last tremors of my orgasm.
His lips brush my ear, his voice a dark promise. "Tonight," he murmurs. "I'm going to show you just how good you can be for Daddy."