“Give me the application, angel,” he says, firmly.
I chew my lip, indecisive. I don’t want favors from him. I don’t want to take advantage of anything this man has to offer. I only want him. But the request to look at my Yale application is innocent enough, right? And it’s better than letting him shower me in sapphires or spend a thousand dollars on our dinner.
“Just for a look, okay?” I murmur.
He blinks away the triumph that flashes in his eyes, but not before I see it.
“Just a look.” He releases my chin and trails a big palm downward, between my breasts and over my tummy, hesitating only briefly before traveling further and tucking his hand beneath my skirt to squeeze my upper thigh and hip, easing his body to one side so he can stroke a single finger down the center of my mound. “But I’m about to do a lot more than look at youhere, Vida.”
“I know,” I breathe.
He flips up my skirt and peruses me there hotly, a sound rumbling in his chest. “Just had her first kiss last night. My God.”
“My first orgasm, too,” I whisper, my belly hollowing with deepening breaths.
“Vida, no.” His brows slash together, his expression disbelieving. Turned on and rueful at the same time. “Jesus, I’ve done shit so backwards with you. Your first orgasm shouldn’t have been while you were hanging from my belt.”
I arch my back for him, and he watches, licking his lips.
“I loved hanging from your belt. But show me how you think it should have been.”
“Oh, I plan on it, angel.” He tucks a finger into the waistband of my white panties and ferries them down my legs all the way to my ankles, where I toe them onto the floor. His expression is nothing short of marveling, his fingertips teasing my private lips gently, his breath ghosting over my wetness when he leansforward to study me. “Could hardly believe what I was tasting when I licked it last night. Didn’t even come close to getting my fill.” He slips his thumb into the top of my slit and gently rubs that nub, so recently discovered, and my legs jerk on a whimper. “You can wear your lily-white panties and ride your bike around town like the girl next door, but something so wet and horny needs filth, too, Vida. You’re going to get that from me. Only. Ever. Me. I’m going to be Daddy to this little sugar pussy. We on the same page yet?”
Following his words, there’s an embarrassing rush of heat at my center. Which part do I address first? If my body clearly enjoys how he’s speaking to me, does that make it okay?
“D-Daddy?” I ask on a shallow breath while Tripp kisses his way down my stomach. “Why would you say th—oh!”
His tongue is dragging up the part of my sex, his intense blue eyes fastened on my face—and I know in that instant what Tripp means byfilth.Oh, my goodness, he is filth incarnate, his broad shoulders and back tense with flexed muscles, his body settling in between my parted legs, as if to enjoy a meal.
All day long, I’ve been worried about this moment, so sure it would be cringe-inducing or uncomfortable, but he’s not giving me any room to feel anything but warmth and tension and that unexplainable sensation that comes when he reaches my clit and spreads his tongue all over it like jelly.
“Oh my God,” I hiccup, twisting my fingers in the sheets above my head.
“Fuck, angel,” he growls. “You justdripfor this tongue, don’t you?”
I nod vigorously because yeah, I can feel that what he’s saying isoh so accurate. I didn’t know I could get this aroused. Maybe I wasn’t capable of it until I met Tripp.
“Keep…doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“All of it.”
His laughter is dark as he lifts his head, but all at once, he seems to grow overwhelmed by lust, reaching up to unbutton my vest with a rough hand, pushing it open. My T-shirt is peeled up to my throat next, exposing my breasts to the cool room. It’s completely decadent to be lying in this luxurious bed with a god between my legs, and I let myself soar, arching my back and moaning as loudly as I want.
My husky whine encourages him, and I’m yanked closer by the backsides of my knees, his tongue and lips moving in tandem within my flesh, the tip of his tongue pressing to my entrance while his thumb strums that delicious spot.
“Tripp,” I chant, a monstrous pressure beginning to build beneath my navel. A good pressure. An urgent one. “Tripp, Tripp.”
He lifts his head.
Eyes delirious, chin and lips wet, he pants, “Daddy. Try it for me, angel.”
A corkscrew twists in my tummy. I like it. But I don’t know if I should.
But then he kisses my belly button, watching me while he presses two fingers inside me, deep, deep, and the word explodes out of me.
“Daddy.”
