Chapter 6 #2
"Yes."
"What else?"
"When you told me I was being good. The praise."
His smile is slow, satisfied. "Because it made you feel seen?"
"Yes."
"Anything you didn't like?"
I think. "No. Everything felt... right."
"Then we'll build on that." He stands, starts unbuttoning his shirt. "Take off your sweater."
I do, hands shaking slightly. Underneath I'm wearing a thin tank top, nothing fancy.
"You're thinking too much," he observes, shrugging out of his shirt. "I can see it."
"How do you know?"
"You get this little crease between your eyebrows." He traces it with his finger. "Stop worrying so much." He cups my breast through my tank top, thumb brushing across my nipple until it peaks. "And I'm going to enjoy every ounce of you."
A whimper escapes my throat.
"That's it," he murmurs. "Let me hear you."
His hands are everywhere all at once. Gentle but firm, learning my body with the same methodical focus he applies to everything. When he finally strips away my tank top, exposing me to his gaze, I have to fight the urge to cover myself.
"Don't," he says softly, catching my wrists. "Let me look at you."
I do, trembling slightly as his eyes trace over me. The hunger in his expression makes me feel powerful and vulnerable all at once.
"Perfect," he says finally. "Absolutely perfect."
Then his mouth is on my skin. He kisses my neck and my collarbone. I moan when his lips brush against the swell of my breast. Each kiss, lick and nip is deliberate, purposeful, designed to unravel me. When he takes my nipple into his mouth, I arch off the bed with a gasp.
"Sensitive," he notes, doing it again.
"Yes—oh—god—"
"Good." His hand slides down my stomach, fingers playing with the waistband of my leggings. "Tell me if you want me to stop."
"Don't stop."
He strips the leggings away, leaving me just in boxer shorts I’d found in the drawer in the bedroom of the lodge. Men’s boxers, too big for me. Plain cotton, practical, nothing like the lace and silk I wish I was wearing.
"These are mine," he says with a laugh. “And damn do you look good wearing my underwear. But they're in my way."
He hooks his fingers under the waistband, pulls them down slowly. "Spread your legs for me," he orders and God help me, I do. I obey willingly. My heart hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat.
He settles between my thighs, hands running up the inside of my legs, spreading me wider. "So pretty," he murmurs. "And so ready for me."
When his fingers finally touch me where I'm aching, I nearly come apart. He explores me with patience. His finger circles my clit, flicking and pressing into me. He learns what makes me gasp and what makes me moan.
"Please," I breathe.
"Please what?"
"More—I need—"
"I know what you need. I will always know what you need, Holly." He slides a finger inside me, slow and careful, watching my face. "This?"
"Yes—"
He adds a second finger, stretching me, his thumb finding the bundle of nerves that makes me see stars. The pleasure builds impossibly fast, coiling tighter and tighter. He rubs my clit with renewed fervor as he thrusts his fingers in and out of me, curling them upwards, hitting my g-spot.
"That's it," he encourages. "Let go, baby. I've got you."
I come with a cry, my body clenching around his fingers, pleasure washing through me in waves. He doesn't stop, drawing out my climax until I'm shaking and oversensitive.
When I finally come down, he's watching me with something like reverence.
"Beautiful," he says softly. "You're so beautiful when you let go."
I reach for him, hands fumbling with his belt. "Your turn."
He catches my wrists gently. "Not yet."
"But—"
"Tonight is about you. About showing you what it feels like to be taken care of."
"That's not fair."
"Life rarely is." He kisses my forehead. "But you're going to learn that I don't do anything I don't want to do. And right now, I want to watch you come apart for me again."
"Again?"
His smile is wicked. "Again. This time on my mouth. I love the way you taste, Holly."
Later—much later—we lie tangled in sheets, my head on his chest, his hand stroking through my hair.
"I didn't know it could be like that," I admit quietly.
"Like what?"
"Like, someone making me orgasm over and over again without demanding I return the favor or asking for anything in return. It was all about me and my pleasure."
"That's the point." His fingers trace patterns on my shoulder. "You get to feel everything because you know I'm here to hold the edges."
"Do you feel it too? The intensity?"
"Yes."
"But you don't lose control."
"Someone has to stay grounded. That's my job as the Daddy, to be the anchor while you fly."
I tilt my head to look at him. "Doesn't that get exhausting?"
"Not with you." He kisses my forehead. "With you, it feels right."
My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I ignore it and sigh dramatically.
The girls and their untimely interruptions.
At least it wasn’t in the middle of one of the multiple orgasms Daddy gave me.
I catch my breath at the thought. Daddy.
Not Justin. Daddy. The thought popped naturally into my head.
I like it. I roll it around in my thoughts for a second.
Daddy. He’s my very own Daddy. What a delicious thought.
It buzzes again. I really ought to put that thing on do not disturb.
Justin chuckles. "Your friends are persistent."
I groan, reaching for it.
Madison: HELLO??? Status update needed!
Lily: She's probably busy being ravished
Chloe: Living her best snow-in life right out of a Hallmark Christmas movie. If Hallmark and Fifty Shades did a mashup.
Amber: I'm just saying, if my boss looked like that I'd have manufactured a flat tire MYSELF
Lily: Amber!
Maya: We're all thinking it, Lily.
Emily: Sending love and light! Hope you're taking time for self-care while you are on that mountain.
Me: I'm being VERY well taken care of, thank you all for your concern.
Madison: DETAILS
Me: Absolutely not
Lily: So how good in bed is Mr. Bossman Daddy?
Me: I hate you all
Amber: No you don't
Me: No I don't. But I'm putting you on mute for the night. Do not disturb means exactly that girls.
Maya: Have fun
I set the phone down and find Justin grinning.
"What?” I ask him.
“I enjoyed watching the emotions cross your face as you read and responded to your friends. A mixture of exasperated amusement.”
"They're living vicariously through me. Remember, all of them are single. Before you, all we had were our books."
"Should I be concerned?"
"Probably. I’m sure they're already planning our wedding."
His expression doesn't change, but something flickers in his eyes. "Are they?"
"I'm joking—"
"I'm not concerned." He pulls me closer. "Let them plan."
My heart skips. "Justin—"
"I'm serious, Holly. This isn't a fling for me. I don't do temporary."
"We've known each other three days."
"I've known you longer than that. Even if we were being professionals. I've watched you make every guest smile, fix broken decorations without being asked, stay late to help close. I've known who you are for months. I'm just finally getting to know you."
Tears prick my eyes. "That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me."
"Then you've been with the wrong people." He wipes away a tear with his thumb. "I plan to say romantic things regularly. You should prepare yourself."
I laugh, watery but genuine. "Noted."
We fall asleep like that, wrapped around each other, the storm outside finally quiet, the world reduced to his warmth and breath and the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear.