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“Oh my God,” she laughs, sounding genuinely surprised. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just move…” She stops talking and lets out a small squeal when I lift her onto the cleared surface and push her down on her back.

Her hair spills across the desk, and she looks up at me with something in her eyes that isn’t fear anymore. It’s want. Raw, naked want. I might never understand how she can change from one emotion to another so easily, but right now, I’m just fucking grateful she isn’t afraid.

I pull my chair closer and once I’m between her spread legs, I throw them over my shoulders. Her pussy is right there—pink and wet and swollen, her clit hard and begging for my tongue.

Leaning forward, I lick her in one long stroke from her entrance to her clit, and she arches off the desk with a cry that goes straight to my cock. Her taste floods my mouth, making me growl against her.

“Hold still,” I order, my tone husky with need.

When she doesn’t, I pin her hips to the desk with both hands. She whimpers, but she stops trying to move. For about three seconds. Then my tongue finds her clit and circles it slowly, teasing, and her hips buck against my grip hard enough that I have to tighten my hold.

Her hands find my hair—both of them pulling as if she’s trying to drag me closer or push me away, I can’t tell which.

“Fuck,” she gasps. “Domenico, please.”

“Tell me what you want.” I rub her clit with my thumb while my tongue works lower, dipping into her entrance, tasting how wet she is.

“I want… I want your mouth, please, your tongue, your fingers, anything.”

I slide one finger inside her, then two, curling them upward until I find that spot that makes her scream. Her tight pussy clenches around my fingers, slick and hot, as I fuck her with them slow and deep while my tongue works her clit.

Her juices are all over my face—on my chin, my cheeks, dripping down to my jaw—and I don’t give a fuck. I’m ravenous for her. I eat her like a man starving, licking and sucking. Working my fingers inside her until she’s sobbing.

“Yes,” she moans, her voice breaking. “Yes, Daddy, right there, please.”

The word lands like a fucking grenade.

Everything stops for one heartbeat. Two.

Daddy.

Then something primal and dark and hungry stirs in my chest, low and hot. My grip on her hips tightens hard enough to leave marks.

“Say that again,” I demand.

When I look up at her, she looks as surprised as I feel. “Why did you stop…” A smirk pulls at her lips. “… Daddy?”

Fuuuuck!

I never knew I’d like hearing that word. Or that it would turn me on like nothing else.

“Again,” I growl.

“Stop making me wait, Daddy,” she pants. “I was so close.”

My rhythm turns rougher, my fingers driving into her deeper, my tongue working her clit with a pressure that makes her cry out.

I look up. Her eyes are locked on mine, black with need, and I don’t hide what that word did to me. I let her see it—the hunger, the possession.

“Be a good girl and come for me,” I tell her, and she does, her whole body convulsing around my fingers, her pussy clenching and pulsing as she comes with a cry that bounces off the walls.

Rather than stopping, I work her through one climax and right into the next. I don’t stop licking and fingering her until she’s shaking, sensitive.

“I can’t… I can’t take anymore,” she moans. She tries to say more, but the words are nonsensical.

“That’s a problem,” I growl as I remove her legs from my shoulders and lean back in the chair. “Because you still owe me more orgasms.”

She pushes herself up on her elbows and looks down at me. “I don’t think I can,” she whines. “Let me touch you instead.”