Chapter 8 Ace
Ace
Electric shocks spread through me, my pussy aching badly, but more than anything, I want his cock in my mouth. I want to taste him. “Yes.”
Raising an eyebrow, Kian cups my chin. “Tell me what you know about them.”
Swallowing, I try not to shift as my arousal drips down my thigh to my calf. “I’ve read about it in books.”
His dark eyes shine under the dim light, never looking anywhere except at me. Being his sole focus is a rush in itself. The man is so damn commanding and dominating, it shouldn’t surprise me that he’s asking about safewords.
“Yeah? You read some kinky books, angel?”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I nod, my gaze falling to his heavy cock, bobbing before me. The deep V at his hips leads down perfectly to the shadow of dark hair around the base, where he’s holding it.
“Sometimes,” I answer, licking my lips as I flick my gaze to his dick and then back up at him again.
“Well, tonight, you get to experience it for yourself, angel. Your safeword is red. I’m going to fuck you and use you, right here, for my own pleasure.
I expect complete obedience unless you say red, or tap my thigh if you can’t speak, and I’ll stop straight away.
When I ask you a question, I expect ‘Yes, Daddy’ or ‘No, Daddy’ unless I ask for more. Do you have any questions?”
My chest rises and falls as I stare up at him from the plush living room rug. “No, Daddy.”
His fingers tighten in my hair, pulling my head back, my mouth opening slightly.
He presses the tip of his cock to my lips, a bead of semen wetting my lips.
He smears it around gently like it’s lipstick, then nudges forward.
It’s like he’s marking me with his come, and it sends a pool of arousal between my legs.
Inch by inch, I take him into my mouth; my lips are stretched painfully wide by the time he hits the back of my throat. He holds himself there, one hand still threaded into my hair and the other wrapped around the back of my neck, squeezing gently as he holds me in place.
Trying to breathe through my nose, I peer up at him as he watches me struggle to adjust to how big he is.
“Look at you, angel. You look so fucking pretty with my dick in your mouth. Jesus. I could stare at this sight every day and never get tired of it.” His voice is deep and gravelly, like he’s struggling to maintain some sort of hold on his control.
It gives me such a thrill to know that this isn’t only a one-sided attraction.
“Such a good girl. Open that shirt for me. Let Daddy see your pretty tits while I fuck this precious mouth.”
Then he pulls back and thrusts deeper, this time, and I gag, my fingernails digging into one of his solid thighs while I try to shrug off his dark gray dress shirt. The black sheer curtains diffuse the light from The Strip enough that I don’t think he’ll see my scars. Especially from this position.
He groans and reaches down to tweak each of my nipples before he straightens and thrusts again, making me gag and cough when he pulls out.
“Put your fingers on your clit and touch yourself. Show me how you like it.”
Cheeks heated, I slide my fingers between my thighs and circle that spot I know all too well, moaning when it sends a zap of arousal through me.
My throat relaxes more, which he uses to his advantage, fucking my mouth deeper and faster while I play with myself to the same rhythm.
Staring up at him, I love how he uses me. Like he’s desperate for my mouth. For me.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, angel, and I’ve seen a lot of pretty fucking things,” he grits out while he grips my hair. “And this goddamn mouth. Jesus Christ.”
His eyes roll back, and he fucks harder, choking and gagging me while I gasp for air, my fingers moving faster over my clit.
“That’s my fucking girl,” he growls when my whimpers become louder as my body vibrates with a desperate need to let go.
“Come for me,” he growls. “Come for Daddy.”
He continues to fuck my mouth, and within seconds, I cry out as my orgasm tears through me, shaking me like a leaf as I grip his thighs for dear life.
The entire time, he watches me, even as he groans and curses under his breath, his come hitting the back of my throat. As I swallow it down, his eyes widen slightly, like he’s surprised I’d do such a thing. It sends a tiny thrill through me that I’ve shocked the big, bad man.
“Fucking, Christ, Ace. You’re a drug, and I think I’m already hooked,” he finally says as he reaches down and scoops me up from the floor like I weigh nothing.
Then he carries me to bed and tucks us in, under the covers, his enormous, warm body wrapped around me like the perfect cocoon I could hide within forever.
“Night, angel,” he murmurs quietly after a long silence.
Smiling, I lower my lips to where his hand is resting and kiss the back of it. “Night, Daddy.”
Something jerks me out of dead sleep.
What was that noise?
Is someone breaking in?
A snore startles me, and I suck in a breath.
Shit.
I’m not at home.
Oh, shit.
I had a one-night stand with a literal stranger. The only thing I know him as is Daddy. And I don’t know if it was that or the man himself, but last night was the hottest experience of my life.
What time is it?
Rolling to the side, I move with the grace of an experienced ballerina and gather all my clothes, piece by piece. All except my panties. Where the hell did he throw them?
Oh, fuck it. I can take a rideshare home with no underwear. If my mother could see me now. The thought makes me smirk as I tiptoe through the dark, lavish penthouse, thankful for automatic floor illumination.
The entire time, the man who fucked me like a savage last night snores softly from the bed. As I make my way to the bathroom, I glance at one of the bedside clocks.
Just after five in the morning. The sun will be up soon.
I definitely don’t want to be making the walk of shame in my sequin dress through a hotel and casino during daylight hours.
I’ll be blushing the whole time as it is because based on how my body feels right now, there’s no way I don’t look freshly and thoroughly fucked.
Moving as quickly as I can, I put on my bra, followed by my dress, then spend an annoying amount of time trying to reach back to zip it.
Instead of putting my shoes on, I pick them up and, once again, tiptoe out of the bedroom, down a short hall that opens up to the enormous living space, which no person actually needs unless they are hosting a party for a couple of hundred people up here.
It’s over the top, but it’s beautiful, and the view through the wall of windows over the Las Vegas Strip is stunning.
I pass a table and pause to look at a set of poker cards with the hotel logo on it.
A soft smile tugs at my lips as I open the deck and look through it.
When I find the one I want, I go over to the kitchen counter where he dropped the key card on our way to the bedroom and place the poker card next to it.
Then I silently cross the room and pause at the door.
Am I a terrible person for sneaking out without at least saying…
what? Thanks for the orgasms? Thanks for pretending to love my body so I didn’t feel bad about it?
We agreed to one night and no names, so there’s no point in waiting around to awkwardly say goodbye.
With one last deep breath, I unlock the door and swing it open, then walk away from one of the best nights of my life. And it wasn’t just the sex. Okay, a lot of it was the sex. But it was the way he spoke to me. And called me his good girl over the smallest thing.
As soon as I’m alone in the elevator, I turn and look at the mirrored wall. A horrified gasp comes out as I stare at myself.
Oh my God!
Why did I not think to check myself while I was in the bathroom? It looks like a bird landed in my hair and created its own personal nest. And my mascara is smudged everywhere, along with my pink lipstick.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Using my fingers, I comb out my hair with one hand while swiping at my face with the other, my shoes dangling from my pinky as I do.
What a sight I must be. Thank goodness there are always taxis waiting in the valet area, even at this hour.
When I’ve done the best I can, I try to act as calm and casual as possible when I get to the bottom floor and walk out of the elevator. Thankfully, because it’s so early, there are very few people milling around, and most of them are in their own haze of the decisions they made last night.
I pause to put my heels on, but when I lean down, my hip and thigh scream at me. Fuck it. I’ll wash my feet as soon as I get home. It’s not like I’m the first woman to walk around barefoot in Las Vegas.
Keeping my head low, I head to the taxi line. The valet attendant waves a car forward for me, and I give him a brief smile as I slide a twenty in his palm and climb into the back seat.
After giving the driver my address, I take another calming breath and try to relax during the twenty-minute ride.
As soon as I’m home, I go right to my ensuite bathroom and turn the shower on as hot as I’ll be able to stand, hoping it will give my pain some sort of relief, even if it’s just for a while.
Steam swirls around the room while I slowly maneuver out of my clothes.
When I let my bra fall to the floor, I get a look at my naked body in the mirror and try but fail not to wince when my gaze goes straight to my scarred-up left leg.
Just above that, toward my butt, is a circular bruise.
Right where he grabbed me while he fucked me from behind and told me how perfect I was.
The way his hands roamed my body. I don’t know if he felt my scars, but he didn’t say anything if he did, and it didn’t seem to deter him from wanting me.
He didn’t see them, though. And getting out of there before he woke up and saw me in the daylight was the best decision.
I just wish I’d gotten his name. Something about the man tells me he has a sexy one.
Although I loved calling him Daddy, and he was a damn good one.
Even though I haven’t fucked a ton of men in my life, I know without a doubt, no one will ever fuck me like he did last night. If I go the rest of my life without sex, I’ll be just fine because I will relive last night’s memories until the day I die.