33. Sandro #4
Fuck. That voice. I now understand Emilio’s reaction when I’d crank up the Daddy in me, because, shit. Hot. I shudder, my cock hardening even further, and if it weren’t for the fact that we still weren’t in the limo, I’d be on his dick so fast…
“Sorry, Daddy. I just need you.”
His eyes darken, and his lips form a snarl of carnal need that matches my own. He presses his lips against mine in a crushing kiss, demanding I take what he gives, and I groan in sheer pleasure as I give in to his tongue invading my mouth.
Fucking. Hell. This man may kill me. But fuck if I’d have any regrets.
As soon as the driver opens the door to the back of the limo, I push Daddy inside, practically crawling in after him. Thank fuck the partition between the driver and us passengers is up, or he’d get a hell of a show.
The growl from Tennant as he grips my chin, trying to force me to slow, does nothing to extinguish the flames of sheer need that are enveloping me. Hell, it merely pushes me higher. Pulling back, I’m surprised to find I’m panting, but shit if it should be a surprise.
“Daddy, please. Let me pleasure you,” I beg, my hands shaking as I reach for his belt.
“Aww, does my Sweet Boy want to play with his Daddy?”
Moaning, I nod enthusiastically. “Please, that’s all I want.”
Using his strength, he swiftly readjusts us until he’s sitting up, and I can slide onto the floor of the limo. “There will be consequences, but if you want to play, I’ll let you.”
Consequences. The word barely penetrates my lust-filled brain, but fuck if I can even think about them right now. Not when he’s offering himself up like a sacrifice.
I tear at his belt and the opening to his pants. He captures my hands, slowing me as he helps unfasten everything. The whine that tears from my throat is unrecognizable. There’s a part of me that marvels at it, at my total loss of control. But in a way that’s safe, that won’t hurt him—or me.
When his pants and underwear are pushed down, my mouth salivates at the sight of his dick. Without waiting, I strike, my mouth quickly sucking it. I swirl my tongue around the head, needing to get it plenty wet for my next plan. If he’s giving me the option to play… I’m not going to pass it up.
The taste is overwhelming, but I concentrate the best I can on making this good for him. If it weren’t for my jaw getting too tired, I’d do this for hours. Simply giving him pleasure. Somehow, it means more to me than my own.
When a groan escapes Daddy, it sends a shot of adrenaline through me.
Success. It’s…mind-blowing in a way I didn’t think was possible.
I suck harder, sneaking my hand to his balls and rolling them gently in my hand.
He hisses when I get a little rough, and his fingers wrap in my hair as he stills me.
It flips something in me when he takes over, forcing me to take him, over and over again. I gag, trying to remember to breathe through my nose. For once, the memories of the past stay quiet as the scent of sex permeates the limo, reminding me who I’m with.
Only when I think I’m about to pass out does he let up.
I gulp in deep breaths of air before kissing his thighs, worshipping him.
The limo affords me far more area to move, even if it’s still slightly limited.
I have my shoes, pants, and underwear off in record time, and I climb onto Daddy’s lap like it’s my sole goal in life.
Thankfully, I have a lube packet with me, because I’m horny enough that I’d take him without it.
And since this is only the second time I’ve given my ass up willingly… Yeah, lube is my friend.
Hissing, I struggle to open the damn package with how excited I am. Daddy takes it from me, opens it and pours part of it onto his fingers. He practically purrs, “Let me.”
Fucking. Hell. Definitely going to kill me.
He inserts one of those long fingers, and I breathe through it, hissing as he goes deeper. It’s not comfortable for me yet, but I don’t give a shit. I want to hurt for him. I grasp his shoulder tightly as he adds a second, slowly beginning to fuck me with them.
It’s gentle enough, but so hypnotic that my body relaxes, remembering I can trust him to take care of me. Breathing shakily, I meet his eyes and nod, letting him know I’m ready for a third, even though my mouth is too dry and my heart is hammering too hard to say a word.
The third one burns, and a whine escapes.
He pauses for a moment, studying me. I shake my head, though, fucking myself back onto his fingers and urging him to continue.
He grips my hip tighter with his other hand, hard enough that there will be bruises, and I’m fucked up enough in the head to be proud of that.
I need his marks on me—a reminder this is real.
When he finally removes his fingers, it doesn’t take me long to move, repositioning myself over his cock. Daddy adds the rest of the lube to it, stroking himself before holding it steady for me.