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The thought of him putting me on the counter and spreading my legs, made me shiver. He slipped his arms around me, lacing his fingers together behind my back. I swallowed hard. Dinner no longer seemed important to me. It'd been too long since I felt him inside me.
“I know what you're thinking.” He lowered his hands to my rear, cupping my ass and his palms. “I have an idea.”
A part of me thought he'd throw me over his shoulder and set me on the counter, but he did something I didn't expect. He stepped over to the oven and turned it off, then took my hand in his, guiding me up the back staircase, and to the bedroom.
He closed and locked the door, then immediately closed the gap between us. Jerking me into his body, he crashed his lips into mine. The kiss felt different. It was a kiss of something deeper than lust or hunger for one another. It felt like home.
Our tongues swirled around together as he guided me backward to the bed until I bumped into it. He slid his fingers under the bottom of my shirt, lifting it over my head, then unhooked my bra and tossed it to the floor. He trailed his lips down my neck and chest, kissing each of my breasts tenderly. I gripped his shoulders as he took one of my nipples into his mouth while tweaking the other between his fingertips. Kissing further down my stomach, he unbuttoned my jeans, tugging them down with my underwear.
“Sit down.”
I perched on the edge of the bed as he removed my shoes and finished taking off my pants.
“We don't have too long, but if I don't get my cock inside you soon,” he stood, unbuttoning his pants, and lowering them, “I might explode.”
Lying back, I spread my legs, giving him a good view of my bare pussy. “This is what you want, Daddy?”
“Every fucking day for the rest of my life.” He crawled between my legs, lining himself up with my entrance, slowly sinking himself deep inside me until he bottomed out. A loud moan erupted from my mouth, but he cut it off with a kiss, then pressed his palm over my lips. “Shhh, baby girl, we don't know when anybody's going to be here, and you need to be quiet for me right now. Remember, in your training, when I told you that you couldn't make a sound?”
I nodded.
“It's for reasons like this. There's going to be times I want to fuck you when there are people around or you're going to have to be quiet.” He removed his hand, lowering it to my nipple, pinching it hard. “You can dig your nails into me all you want, but you better not make a sound unless it's a breath.”
He pulled almost all the way out, plunging back into me with force. My back arched, my eyes closed, and I dug my nails into his chest.
“That's it, mama, scratch Daddy all you need.”
My eyes sprung open at the new nickname, and I peered deep into his eyes as he thrust himself in and out of me repeatedly. It was so hard to stay quiet, but I concentrated on my breathing and the way he felt. My walls tightened around his thick shaft.
“You like that name?”
“Yes, sir,” I whispered.
“I’m going to fill up my pussy.”
“Please,” I whined as low as possible.
After several more strokes, he kissed me passionately as we erupted together in pure ecstasy. He finally broke our kiss, collapsing next to me on the bed. Hand resting on his forehead, he panted, staring at the ceiling.
“Even the quickies feel like heaven,” I panted.
“Yeah,” he rolled his head toward me, “they do.”
* * *
Dinner was more peaceful than I thought it was going to be. No one brought up our relationship before or during dinner, though my parents couldn't stop watching us. Everyone enjoyed the three-course meal before I stood, reaching for Elizabeth and James’s plates, since they were closest to me.
“Let me clean up and grab dessert.”
“Maddie,” my mother called out.
Pausing, I met her gaze. There it is. Now, she wants to bring it up. She just didn’t want to ruin dinner.
She examined everyone at the table before she nodded toward my chair. “I think we need to have a talk before we stuff ourselves anymore and end up in a food coma.” She grinned. “Though, I have to say it’s delicious. You’ve always been an amazing cook.”
“Thanks,” I grinned sheepishly. “James helped.”
My father pushed his plate back, propping his elbows on the table. “James.”
