“Daddy,” I moan, my voice breathy and desperate. “Please...”
He chuckles against me, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through my body. “Please, what?”
“Please… don’t… stop,” I beg between pants, my grip tightening in his locks.
Hedoubles his efforts, his tongue flicking faster, his fingers pumping harder. The pressure builds inside me, a coiling heat that threatens to consume me entirely. I cry out as my orgasm crashes over me, my body trembling with the force of it. Damon doesn’t let up, drawing out my pleasure until I’m spent, collapsing back against the sheets in a sated heap, trying desperately to catch my breath.
He trails his lips back up my body, his lips claiming mine in a deep, passionate kiss that spills my musky sweetness into my mouth. Breaking our kiss, he pulls back just enough to speak. “I think it’s time you learn how to suck my cock like a good girl.”
His low, commanding voice causes my cheeks to flush with heat, a burn that is only exacerbated by my inexperience. While I know the semantics—put cock in mouth, move it around—I don’t actuallyknowhow.What if I do it wrong? What if I disappoint him?
As though he can read the look on my face and the thoughts racing through my mind, Damon smiles reassuringly. “You can do this. I’ll talk you through it.”
He climbs off the bed, his body a masterpiece of muscle and ink in the morning light as he drops two pillows at his feet. Taking my hand, he helps me from the mattress before commanding, “On your knees.”
I obey, sinking to my knees on the pillows. Once I’m kneeling, he guides my hand beneath my chin and uncurls my fingers.
“Spit in it.”
I gather saliva in my mouth and, feeling a bit awkward and self-conscious, tentatively spit it into my palm. He wraps it around his shaft.” “Fuck… I love your touch on me. As he guides my hand up and down his length, he husks, “Now, put it in your mouth.”
I hesitate for a second before parting my lips and sliding him into my mouth. The soft skin of his cock’s thick head against my tongue is surprisingly pleasant. I move my tongue over the smooth, warm skin, feeling the ridge of his crown.
“That’s it. Lick and suck,” he instructs, growing breathless. “Just the tip for now. Eventually, you’ll learn to take the whole thing.” I follow his directions, my tongue swirling around the thick head as I suck gently, my hand continuing to stroke his length with the same rhythm as my mouth. I keep my eyes locked on his, watching his expression shift with pleasure.
“You suck my cock so well,” he groans, his hips rocking slightly. “And you look so fucking beautiful staring up at me with it in your mouth.”
I taste a bit of saltiness on my tongue as precum leaks from his tip. The earthy taste is not unpleasant, just… different.
“Fuck… Just like that…,” he pants, his hips quivering with restraint. “You’re going to make me come.”
His words spur me on. I lick and suck at him more eagerly, wanting to please him and bring him the same pleasure he gave me. I take him a little deeper, testing my limits with the few inches with my hand still working the rest of his shaft.
“Don’t swallow,” he grits out, his cock growing more rigid. He twitches against my tongue, and my mouth fills with his release. It’s warm and thick, with a slightly bitter, salty taste. I do as he says, fighting the urge to swallow as he finally stills on my tongue.
He slowly pulls from my mouth, some of his cum dripping over my lip and dribbling down my chin. Cupping my jaw, he wipes it away with his thumb. “Open wide. Show Daddy how full those nice, round cheeks are with my cum.”
I open my mouth, sticking my tongue out slightly. “Such a dirty girl,” he groans with a smile. “Swallow for Daddy.”
With my mouth closed, I do as he asks. He bends down and plunges his tongue between my lips. My own lingering muskiness is still on his tongue, and it mixes with the salty taste of him on mine, creating a cocktail of our pleasure. He pulls back, and his eyes are dark with satisfaction. “We taste so good together.”
After helping me from the floor, he climbs into bed. Instead of joining him, I grab a discarded pair of shorts and a hoodie from the floor. “Where are you going?” he asks, watching medress.
“The kitchen,” I chuckle. “My Daddy getsrealgrumpy when I don’t eat.”
Damon laughs as I walk out the door, calling behind me, “I’ll be right behind you, trouble.”
I head downstairs with a satiated smile, practically skipping down the stairs. For a moment, I allow myself to imagine this is what the rest of my life is going to be like—waking up in Damon’s arms, our mornings filled with passion and playfulness, and our days unfolding in a blissful domesticity I’ve only ever dreamed of.
In the kitchen, I spot the note stuck to the fridge. This has always been where Dad and I have left messages for each other when our schedules—his schedule—didn’t allow for us to see much of each other. I lift the folded yellow piece of paper, my name written in his familiar scrawl.
I’m sorry.
I make it two words before my breath catches in my throat.
I made a mess of things. I can’t fix the lies, but I know what I need to do to keep you safe from the cartel.
Love, Dad
