Page 96 of The Daddy’s Girl

She hums a little bit louder, and I press a little harder. I can’t take my eyes off her. Her perky mounds move with the heaving breaths of her chest. Her tiny pink nipples tighten with arousal.

Her hip bones jut out from her dainty frame, and her stomach bears a small mound beneath her belly button with stark white hair against her tan skin. Her pussy is equally as perfect, and just the memory of it last night, smothering me in heaven, has me pulling away and dropping to my knees again.

I lick her perfect cunt from bottom to top, taking a moment to prod her tight asshole before sucking eagerly on her clit. She cries out in a high-pitched growling sound as her fingers find my hair and she holds me close, not letting me get away.

As if I would. There’s not a single place on this earth I’d rather be.

I devour her beautiful cunt because I want to. Because it brings me as much pleasure as it brings her. Because I think, in my pussy-drunk delusion, that I was born for this. I belong here. My mouth was made for this cunt.

Her thighs are draped over my shoulders, squeezing around my head every time she gets close. She’s writhing on the counter as I bring her to the edge of ecstasy.

“Oh God, Matis. Oh fuck.” Her words are senseless and mumbled as she fights against the impending climax.

So I slip in a finger, hooking it and finding the spot that makes her hips buck and her breathing stop. Then I suck harder on her clit and watch her fold into crumbs on the marble countertop.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she screams.

I watch her abs contract and her chest glisten with sweat as she comes. Her brows are knit together so tightly she almost looks pained, but I know by the pulsing clit in my mouth that it’s not pain at all.

Just watching her come makes my dick throb to the point of nearly coming without even touching myself. I feel the head dripping precum as it slides down my length. There’s probably even a drop or two on the floor, but I don’t care.

Once I know Amelia has finished and fully come down from her high, I burst up to my feet, gripping my cock tight. With shameless grunts and groans, I stroke my dick in rhythms both fast and slow.

Staring at her body, I wish more than anything that I could bury myself inside her. I want to fill her up. Every drop of my seed belongs to her now, and I grow hot and desperate at the thought of breeding her—a thought that has never crossed my mind before.

Leaning back on one arm, she watches me stroke myself with fascination. I lick up the taste of her on my lips, feeling myself growing closer and closer to coming.

Then, in one last filthy move before unloading, I prod the head of my swollen cock against her cunt. I don’t push in. Instead, I let it sniff her out like a dog, gliding through her pubic hair and between her wet folds.

I even let it slip between the cheeks of her ass and press against her puckered hole, and she lets out a mewling sound, her hips rocking back and forth as if she could impale herself on my shaft.

I don’t need to ask if Amelia has ever had anyone in her ass before. I already know the answer is no, or at least it’s a hunch. And the thought of being the first cock to take that tight hole sends me careening into my orgasm.

I come like a beast, growling and roaring as my dick twitches in my hand, sending ropes of cum over her perfect skin. Before I’m even done, she reaches down and runs her finger through it, painting it into her skin.

And with my mouth hanging open, wondering how on earth I’m going to survive this woman, I come some more.

Rule #27: Just act natural.

Amelia

Matis runs his thumb along the arch of my foot, and I let my head fall back with a groan. My computer is in my lap while the TV plays quietly in the background.

“Keep doing that,” I whisper as I press my foot a little higher up his lap to feel his cock in his trousers. It’s not hard, but with the impressive length, I can still make it out with my toes.

“Behave, Trouble,” he commands softly, grinning at me from the other end of the couch.

“How can I possibly behave or focus on any of this when I’m still thinking about all the things we could be doing right now? There sure are a lot of things under that anything but umbrella.”

He snickers, that handsome smirk sending butterflies to my stomach.

“Patience, mon trésor.”

Smiling down at my laptop, I love that I can still be both to him. That he adores both—treasure and trouble.

“How’s the to-do list coming along?” he asks, nodding toward the list we made this morning.

“I emailed my proposal to the program, and I contacted the costume designer Elizabeth uses for a quote. Now I’m chatting with Phoenix and Elizabeth to set up a meeting.”