Chapter 4
Chapter Four
NOLA
This is happening. This is actually happening. My boss is kissing me like he’ll die if he doesn’t. And instead of feeling weird about Caleb calling himself Daddy, heat pools between my thighs so suddenly I nearly collapse against him.
I’ve never felt anything like this before. It’s like a clawing need that makes me press closer, open wider, take whatever he’s offering.
His hands are everywhere, cupping my face before sliding down to grip my waist. He walks me backward into the room, never breaking the kiss, his tongue demanding entry that I eagerly grant.
My back hits the wall as he kicks the door closed behind us.
“Daddy’s a bad man, baby girl,” he murmurs between kisses that trail from my mouth to my jaw. “I know it’s wrong, but I can’t stop.”
The word sends another rush of wetness between my thighs.
I’ve never done this before. Never gone beyond awkward kisses and fumbling hands in college.
Never wanted to, really. There was always too much to do.
But right now, with Caleb’s hands sliding my nightgown up over my hips, I can’t remember why I waited.
Can’t think of anything except the way his touch burns paths across my skin.
“Arms up,” he commands, and I obey without thinking, letting him pull the thin fabric over my head.
The cool air of the room washes over my exposed skin. I’m wearing nothing but plain cotton panties. I should be embarrassed standing nearly naked while he’s still fully dressed. But the way he looks at me like I’m something he’s been starving for makes me feel powerful instead.
“Look at you,” he whispers, stepping back slightly to take me in. “So fucking perfect for Daddy.”
His hands move to his own clothes, unbuttoning his shirt with quick, efficient movements.
I watch, transfixed, as he reveals a chest marked with scars.
But I don’t have time to wonder about their origin because he’s stepping forward again, pressing that bare chest against mine, and the contact of skin on skin sends electricity racing through my veins.
“I’m sorry,” he says against my neck, hands sliding down my sides to grip my hips. “I know I’m being bad. Know I shouldn’t touch you like this.” His voice drops lower, rougher. “But Daddy needs to taste that sweet cunt so fucking bad. Been thinking about it since you walked into my office.”
He drops to his knees in front of me, looking up with those intense gray eyes that see everything.
“Tell Daddy he can have a taste,” he growls, fingers hooking into the waistband of my panties. “Tell me you want my tongue inside that pretty pussy. Promise I’ll make it feel so good, baby girl.”
I should be shocked. Should be pushing him away and demanding respect.
Instead, I hear myself say, “Yes, Daddy. You can taste my pussy.”
He groans, a sound of pure male satisfaction that vibrates through me. Then he’s tugging my panties down my legs, helping me step out of them before his hands grip my thighs, spreading them apart.
“Hold onto my shoulders,” he commands, positioning me with my back against the wall. “Good girl. Now, don’t move.”
I grip his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles shift beneath my fingers as he leans forward.
The first touch of his tongue is almost too much. I gasp, my head falling back against the wall with a thud I barely register. He licks a long, slow stripe from my entrance to the top, and my entire body jerks in response.
“So fucking sweet,” Caleb murmurs against me, his hands tightening on my thighs. “I knew you would taste perfect.”
Then his mouth is on me again, more insistent this time.
His tongue circles my clit, and suddenly it’s impossible to care about anything except the pleasure building inside me, threatening to shatter me completely.
I’ve touched myself before, of course. Found release alone in the dark when stress and loneliness became too much. But nothing could have prepared me for this.
For the wet heat of his tongue flicking relentlessly. For the way he groans against me like my taste is the most delicious thing he’s ever experienced.
My fingers dig into his shoulders, probably hard enough to leave marks. I can’t help it. Can’t control the way my body responds to him, the way my hips rock against his mouth seeking more pressure, more friction, more everything.
“That’s it,” he encourages between licks, his eyes locked on mine from below. “Fuck Daddy’s face. Show me how much you like it.”
His words should embarrass me, but they only intensify the building pressure. When he slides a finger inside me, I nearly come undone. He curls it upward, finding a spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasp, my thighs beginning to tremble. “Caleb—”
“Daddy,” he corrects, adding a second finger alongside the first, stretching me further. “Say it. Say ‘Daddy’ while you come on my tongue.”
I cry out, my back arching off the wall as pleasure radiates outward from where his mouth is still working against me.
My inner walls clench around his fingers, pulsing with the force of my release.
The world narrows to nothing but sensation—his tongue, his fingers, the unbearable pleasure that seems to go on and on until I’m gasping for breath, my legs giving out entirely.
Caleb catches me easily, rising to his feet and gathering me against his chest. I’m boneless, liquid, unable to do anything but cling to him as aftershocks continue to ripple through me. His mouth finds mine again, and I taste myself on his tongue.
“Good girl,” he murmurs against my lips, one hand stroking my back in soothing circles. “Such a good girl for Daddy.”
I should be embarrassed by how quickly I fell apart, by the filthy words we’ve exchanged, by this strange dynamic that’s emerged between us without discussion or negotiation.
Instead, I feel... claimed. Like I’ve discovered a part of myself I never knew existed.
Caleb lifts me like I weigh nothing, depositing me on the bed with a gentleness that contrasts sharply with the hunger still evident in his eyes. I watch, my breath caught in my throat, as he reaches for the nightstand drawer and pulls a condom from the box clearly meant for guests.
Caleb stands at the foot of the bed and begins to unfasten his belt. The metallic clink as he pulls it through the loops sends another pulse of heat between my thighs. I prop myself up on my elbows, unable to look away as he unbuttons his pants and lets them fall to the floor.
His boxer briefs do little to hide the substantial erection straining against the fabric. My mouth goes dry as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband and slides them down in one fluid motion.
Holy shit.
He’s... big. Bigger than I expected, though I’m not sure what I expected exactly. Long and thick, with a head that glistens slightly at the tip. I swallow hard, suddenly nervous in a way I wasn’t before.
That’s supposed to fit... inside me?
He must read the apprehension in my expression because his mouth curls into a dark smile, confident and predatory.
“Trust me, baby girl,” he says, tearing open the condom packet. “It’ll fit.”
I watch, fascinated despite my nerves, as he rolls the latex over his length. Then he’s moving toward me, crawling onto the bed like a predator, his eyes never leaving mine.
“But I’ve never...” The words stick in my throat.
“You’ve never what, sweetheart?” he prompts, settling between my thighs.
“I’ve never done this before.” The admission comes out in a rush. “Any of it. With anyone.”
For a moment, he goes completely still above me. His eyes widen slightly, something flashing in them that looks almost like wonder.
“Baby girl, are you a virgin?”
I nod, heat flooding my cheeks.
When I look up at him again, there’s a new intensity in his gaze, something possessive and hungry that makes my heart race faster.
“My perfect girl,” he says, one hand stroking my hair back from my face.
The words should sound ridiculous, but they don’t. They settle into some primal part of me that responds to his claim, to his ownership. I arch up against him, seeking more contact, more friction.
“Please,” I whisper, not entirely sure what I’m asking for, but knowing I need it desperately.
“I’ll go slow,” he promises, reaching between us to position himself at my entrance. “Tell me if it hurts too much.”
I nod, my hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders as I feel the blunt head of his cock press against me.
“Relax for me,” he murmurs, his free hand sliding between us to circle my clit. “Let Daddy in.”
The dual sensation of pressure at my entrance and his fingers on my clit makes it impossible to focus on anything but the pleasure building again. I feel myself opening for him, my body yielding as he pushes forward slowly.
There’s pain—a burning stretch that makes me gasp and dig my nails into his shoulders—but it’s manageable. Bearable. Especially when he stops at every tiny flinch, giving me time to adjust, his fingers never ceasing their gentle circles on my clit.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “Taking Daddy’s cock so well. Such a good girl.”
Inch by inch, he works his way inside until I feel the press of his hips against my thighs. He’s fully seated within me, stretching me in ways I never imagined, filling spaces I didn’t know existed. The discomfort is already fading, replaced by a strange fullness that borders on pleasure.
“Fuck,” he groans, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. “So tight. So perfect.”
He stays still for long moments, letting me adjust to the invasion, his breath hot against my face. When he finally moves, it’s a gentle withdrawal followed by an equally gentle push forward.
“Okay?” he asks, watching my face.
“Yes,” I breathe. The initial discomfort has given way to a building pleasure that makes me lift my hips to meet his next careful thrust. “More. Please.”
Something fierce and satisfied flashes in his eyes.
“Greedy girl,” he says, but his tone is approving. “Already want more of Daddy’s cock?”
“Yes,” I admit, past caring how desperate I sound. “Please, Daddy.”
He rewards me with a deeper thrust that hits something inside me that makes my vision blur.
“There we go,” he murmurs, angling his hips to hit that same spot again. “Feel good, baby girl?”
“Yes, Daddy. So good,” I gasp, my hands sliding from his shoulders to his back, feeling the muscles shift and bunch as he moves above me.
His pace increases gradually, each thrust driving him deeper, stretching me further. What started as discomfort has morphed into an insistent pleasure that builds with every roll of his hips. I find myself meeting his movements, lifting to take him deeper, wanting more of the delicious friction.
Without conscious thought, my legs wrap around his waist, changing the angle and allowing him even deeper. He groans in approval, one hand gripping my hip to hold me in place as he begins to move more forcefully.
“That’s it,” he growls, his controlled pace beginning to falter. “Pull Daddy in deeper. Take all of me.”
I comply eagerly, my body now fully on board with this invasion, craving the stretch and fullness only he can provide. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through me, building toward something I can sense will be even more intense than what his mouth gave me earlier.
“Mine,” he growls against my neck, his lips latching onto the sensitive skin there, surely leaving marks. “This sweet little pussy is all mine now.”
“Yours,” I agree breathlessly, the word torn from me as he hits that perfect spot inside me again.
He lifts his head to look at me, his eyes dark with possession.
“This is our secret,” he says, each word punctuated with a thrust that makes me see stars. “Daddy’s going to bury his cock inside his baby girl every night, and no one else gets to know. No one else gets to have you.”
The possessiveness in his voice pushes me closer to the edge. I’m teetering there, so close to something monumental, when he shifts his weight to one arm and slides his other hand between us.
His fingers find my clit, circling with devastating precision, and I’m lost.
The orgasm crashes through me with such force that I cry out, my back arching off the bed. My inner walls clench around him, squeezing his cock in rhythmic pulses that seem to go on forever.
“Fuck,” he groans, his hips stuttering as he loses his rhythm. “That’s it, squeeze Daddy’s cock. Milk me dry.”
Three more brutal thrusts and he’s joining me, his face contorting with pleasure as he empties himself into the condom. I feel each pulse inside me, adding to the aftershocks still rippling through my own body.
He collapses on top of me, his weight pleasant rather than crushing, his face buried in my neck. I can feel his heart hammering against my chest, matching the frantic pace of my own.
When he finally lifts his head, there’s something vulnerable in his expression. He studies my face like he’s memorizing it, then presses a surprisingly tender kiss to my lips.
“Are you okay?” he asks, genuine concern in his voice.
The question makes me smile. After everything he just did to me, he’s checking if I’m alright. It’s unexpectedly sweet.
“I’m perfect,” I assure him, my hands coming up to frame his face.
Something shifts in his expression. He lowers his forehead to rest against mine, our breaths mingling in the small space between us.
“Yes,” he agrees quietly. “You are.”
He kisses me once more, then carefully withdraws from my body, leaving me feeling strangely empty. I watch as he stands and walks to the bathroom, disappearing inside. The sound of running water reaches me, and then he returns with a warm washcloth.
He cleans me gently between my thighs and when he’s finished, he tosses the cloth aside and slides back into bed beside me, pulling me against his chest.
“Sleep,” he murmurs into my hair, his hand stroking soothing patterns down my back. “Daddy’s got you.”