Chapter 7 #2
It’s the sweetest request I’ve ever heard, and I have no intention of denying it.
“Since you asked so nicely,” I tell her, moving closer, “Daddy’s going to give you his tongue. Going to make you come so hard you forget everything except who you belong to.”
I press my face between her legs, inhaling her scent. She’s intoxicating, sweet and musky and mine. My hands grip her thighs, spreading her wider as I take that first taste, my tongue sliding through her folds with deliberate slowness. She whimpers above me, her body trembling with anticipation.
“Fuck, you taste good,” I growl against her flesh, feeling her shiver at the vibration of my voice. “So sweet for Daddy.”
Her only response is a breathy moan as I drag my tongue from her entrance to her clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves before pulling back. Teasing. Making her wait for what she wants most.
“Please,” she whispers, pushing back against my face shamelessly.
I smile against her wet flesh.
“Please what, baby girl? Tell Daddy exactly what you need.”
“Please make me come,” she gasps, hands fisting in the bedspread as I resume my slow exploration of her pussy. “I want to come so bad.”
“Oh, I will,” I promise, my voice dark with intent. “But only when I’m ready. Only when you’re desperate for it.”
I settle into a rhythm, alternating between broad strokes of my tongue and focused attention on her clit. Her thighs begin to tremble against my palms, her breathing growing more ragged with each pass.
“That’s it,” I encourage between licks. “Show Daddy how much you love this. How much you love my tongue in your pretty pussy.”
She moans in response, all pretense of restraint abandoned as she grinds against my mouth. I could stay here for hours, tasting her, feeling her respond to every flick of my tongue, every whispered command. But there’s more I want to explore, more territory to claim as mine.
I bring my right hand up, still keeping her spread with my left, and trace a wet finger around her entrance, gathering her arousal. Then I slide it higher, circling the tight pucker of her asshole with gentle pressure.
Her whole body tenses at the unfamiliar touch.
“Relax,” I murmur against her pussy, not stopping my oral attention. “Trust Daddy. I’ll make it feel so good.”
Slowly, she begins to relax, allowing me to continue circling that sensitive spot while my tongue works her clit. When I feel her surrender to the sensation, I press just the tip of my finger inside, just barely breaching her.
“Oh!” The sound is startled but not pained, not afraid.
“Good girl,” I praise, keeping my finger still while I intensify my attention on her clit. “Taking Daddy so well. Opening up for me.”
Her body responds to the praise, relaxing further, allowing me to work my finger deeper into her ass while I feast on her pussy. The dual stimulation has her writhing against me, making small, desperate sounds that drive me wild.
“I can feel how close you are,” I tell her, circling her clit with firm pressure. “Your pretty pussy is clenching, begging for release.”
I press my finger deeper into her ass, and she gasps, her body jerking with pleasure.
“But you’re not going to come until I say so,” I continue, slowing my movements deliberately. “Until Daddy gives you permission.”
“Please,” she begs, voice breaking with need. “Please, Daddy. I need to come.”
“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson?” I ask, my tongue flicking lightly over her clit, keeping her on the edge. “About disappearing on me?”
“Yes!” she gasps, pushing back against my mouth desperately. “Yes, Daddy, I won’t do it again, I promise, please—“
“Since you asked so nicely,” I concede, increasing the pressure of both my tongue and my finger. “Come all over your Daddy’s tongue.”
The permission is all she needs. Her body convulses as her orgasm crashes through her, pussy pulsing against my tongue, ass tightening around my finger. I don’t let up, working her through every wave, drawing out her pleasure until she’s gasping and trembling above me.
Only when she begins to pull away do I release her, sitting back on my heels to admire the view. Her ass still pink from my palm, her pussy glistening with a combination of her arousal and my saliva. My cock throbs painfully against my zipper, demanding relief.
I rise to my feet, hands already working at my belt buckle, unable to wait another moment to be inside her. She turns her head, watching me over her shoulder with eyes still glazed from her orgasm.
“Can Daddy fuck you now, baby girl?” I ask, pushing my pants and underwear down my hips, freeing my erection. “Can I feel that sweet pussy bare?”
“Yes,” she whispers, and then, understanding what I need to hear: “Yes, Daddy.”
I position myself behind her, running the head of my cock through her slick folds, coating myself in her wetness. The feeling is indescribable. I could come just from this, just from the anticipation of being inside her.
But I want more. Need more.
With one hand gripping her hip, I guide myself to her entrance and push forward slowly. She’s tight, so fucking tight, but wet enough from her orgasm that I slide in without resistance.
“Fuck,” I hiss as I seat myself fully inside her. “So perfect. So tight around me.”
She makes a small sound, somewhere between a gasp and a moan, as her body adjusts to my size. I hold still, giving her time to accommodate me, though it takes every ounce of self-control I possess not to start thrusting immediately.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice strained with the effort of restraint.
She nods, then remembers I want verbal responses. “Yes, Daddy. Please... please move.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
I withdraw almost completely before driving back into her, setting a pace that’s just shy of punishing. Each thrust pushes a small sound from her throat, and the sounds she’s making are better than anything I’ve ever heard.
She pushes back to meet each thrust, matching my rhythm, taking everything I give her and asking for more.
“So good,” I praise, one hand sliding up her back to tangle in her hair. “Taking Daddy’s cock so well.”
I increase my pace, my grip on her hip tightening to the point that I know there will be bruises tomorrow.
“Your pussy feels amazing,” I tell her. “So fucking tight. So perfect for me.”
I reach around with my free hand, finding her clit and circling it in time with my thrusts. She cries out, her internal muscles clenching around me in a way that nearly makes me lose control.
“That’s it,” I encourage, feeling her begin to build toward another peak. “Let Daddy make you come again. Let me feel that sweet pussy squeeze my cock.”
Her movements become more desperate, more erratic, as she chases her release. I can tell she’s close, so close, but needs something more to push her over the edge.
Without breaking rhythm, I withdraw my hand from her clit and bring it back to her ass, circling her entrance with my middle finger before pressing inside again, just as I did with my tongue.
That does it.
She comes with a wail that might be my name, might be “Daddy,” might be nothing coherent at all. Her pussy clamps down on my cock like a vise, pulsing and squeezing with an intensity that tears my own orgasm from me before I’m ready.
“Fuck, Nola,” I manage as pleasure rips through me. I drive into her one final time, as deep as I can go, and empty myself inside her with a groan.
For a moment, neither of us moves. Neither of us can. We remain frozen in that position, her bent over my bed, me buried inside her, both of us panting and trembling with the aftershocks of release.
My mind is blessedly blank, swept clean of all the anger and fear that drove me to this point. There’s only this moment, this connection, this woman beneath me who’s somehow crawled under my skin in less than forty-eight hours.
Slowly, I withdraw from her body, watching with satisfaction as a trickle of my release follows.
Mine. Marked inside and out.
I help her onto the bed, arranging her body against the pillows before collapsing beside her. We lie there in silence, both catching our breath, sweat cooling on our skin in the climate-controlled air of my bedroom.
When I can move again, I roll onto my side to look at her. Her eyes are closed, lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed with exertion and pleasure. She looks peaceful. Satisfied. Beautiful in a way that makes my chest ache with something I don’t want to name.
My gaze travels lower, to the marks my hands have left on her body. Fingerprints on her hip, the pink flush still visible on her ass. Evidence of my loss of control. Of my anger and fear transformed into something else, something sexual and consuming.
Guilt flickers at the edges of my thoughts. I was too rough. Too demanding. Took advantage of her vulnerability, her need to please me.
But then her eyes open, meeting mine with a clarity that silences the guilt. There’s no regret in her gaze. No fear. No judgment.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice softer than I intended, almost tender.
She smiles, a small, satisfied curve of her lips. “More than okay.”
I reach out to trace the marks on her hip with gentle fingers. “I was too rough. I’m—“
“Don’t,” she interrupts, placing her hand over mine. “Don’t apologize. I wanted it. All of it.”
I search her face for any sign of deception, any hint that she’s just saying what she thinks I want to hear. But there’s only honesty in her eyes, only certainty.
“I was so scared,” I admit, the words escaping before I can stop them. “When I couldn’t find you. When no one knew where you were.”
She shifts closer, her hand coming up to touch my face with unexpected tenderness. “I really am sorry. I didn’t think... I didn’t understand what it would do to you.”
I turn my face into her palm, pressing a kiss to the center of it, a gesture so intimate, so unlike me, that I barely recognize myself in this moment.
“Promise me,” I say, meeting her gaze directly. “Promise that you won’t run off again. Not without telling me. Not without letting me know you’re safe.”
She holds my gaze steadily, her expression serious despite being still half-dazed from what we just did. “I promise, Daddy.”