"I did not love the Daddy comment," I scold her.
I think I loved the Daddy comment. I'm still not sure if my mind is made up about it.
"I think you loved it and you're embarrassed that you loved it and that combination is making you very, very tense." She pulls the belt free in one smooth motion and tosses it behind her. It hits the floor somewhere.
"Maybe I'll call you Daddy when I suck your cock. See if that helps with the tension."
She's got me equal parts mortified and aroused, which is a combination I hadn't experienced before her, and now experience on a near-daily basis.
"Is that what you want?" My voice comes out rough. I know very well she doesn't mind.
"My cock in your mouth?"
Her eyes darken and that is answer enough.
"I'm gagging for it, Callahan."
Motherfucker.
She's going to be the death of me, that I know for certain. She's so sure of herself, so certain she's going to get what she wants because she almost always does and I almost always give it to her. But not tonight.
"No."
Her eyebrows rise. "No?"
"You got what you wanted already." I walk her backward toward the bedroom, my hands on her waist, guiding, steady.
"You had your fun with the Daddy stunt."
I unclasp her bra and it falls between us. "Now it's time for my birthday gift."
"Your birthday was yesterday." She makes a face, calculating. "Technically, the day before yesterday."
"I'm collecting late."
I pick her up and carry her into the bedroom and throw her onto the bed. She bounces, her hair fanning out across the pillows and her face.
I stand at the edge of the bed and pull her jeans down her legs. She's wearing underwear that is small and black and completely pointless, a scrap of fabric that exists only to be removed. I hook my fingers under the edges and slide it down slowly, watching her watch me.
For a moment I don't move. I just take her in. Bare and flushed and watching me with dark eyes, spread across her own pillows like she belongs there. Like she belongs to me.
I start at her throat, kiss the hollow there, the ridge of her collarbone, the flat of her sternum between her breasts. She arches into it, her hands finding my hair.
I kiss lower. The soft curve beneath her breast, the dip of her waist. The mark below her left rib that I know by heart now, that I could find in the dark, that belongs to me the way everything about her belongs to me.
She writhes beneath me, her thighs parting, her hips grinding against me, needing more. Her hands fist in my hair, pulling me closer even as she gasps.
"Callahan..." Her moans are edged with that sleepy whine that makes my balls tighten.
"Fuck, if you keep that up, I'm gonna come already."
Her body is trembling with the building tension. I drag my mouth lower, nudging her thighs open with my shoulders. She's already swollen, wet, glistening in the low lightfrom the window. The sight alone makes my cock throb painfully.
I settle between her legs, my palms firm on her hips. "You are so fucking wet already," I tell her, my voice thick with want.
"I am twenty-three, I am always wet," she sasses back.
Satisfaction hits me, dark and pleased. I slap her cunt hard, and her scream is fucking music to my ears. So I do it again, and again.
