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I have to bite back a groan, watching her lick and kiss her way over my length, exploring. How does this woman keep getting me to do the exact opposite of what I was resolved to? Five minutes ago, I was trying to think of every way possible to push her away, and now here I am, watching her suck my cock.
I’ve never been so happy to lose.
“Fuck yes,” I grunt when her hot little mouth finally closes around my tip, suckling gently. “That’s it, take more of me, little brat.”
Her eyes grow hazy with lust as she eagerly complies, sucking me eagerly while her little hand comes up to grip what her mouth can’t reach.
She likes me being in charge. She likes earning my praise.
My fists tighten in her hair. “Do you know how fucking beautiful you look right now?” I ask, gritting my teeth against the orgasm she’s going to suck out of me any minute. “The things I want to do to you, Daisy, you have no idea. No fucking idea what you’ve just done.”
My hips stutter as the head of my cock hits the back of her throat, but my girl doesn’t stop. She sucks me eagerly, desperately, bobbing and licking, and her free hand comes up to gently cup my already-tightening balls.
The noise I make is guttural.
“That’s it, fuck, good girl.” My hips start to pitch forward, fucking her mouth. I can’t take my eyes off her face, my entire mind and body spinning at what we’re doing.
At what we’refinallydoing.
It’s done. I’ve crossed the point of no return. She’s going to be mine whether she likes it or not, and we’ll suffer the consequences together.
I finish with a roar, heat curling up my spine as spurt after spurt of cum gushes onto her tongue. My little brat drinks it down, swallowing everything I give her until my fingers relax in her hair and she pops off my cock.
Smiling happily up at me, she asks, “Did you still want me to go?”
Chapter Seven
Daisy
My first thought as I wake, feeling a pair of strong male arms tighten around me, is that I’m pretty sure I’m being held hostage.
Not that I’m complaining. I go to work, see friends, and move freely about the city, but since the night of the break-in, Penn has been making sure I’m too busy oroccupiedto go back to my apartment.
I’m sorry, but I’m just not strong enough to walk away from the hottest man in the world eating my pussy until I pass out on his bed in a sweaty, limp heap. I’m well aware I’m being managed, I just can’t bring myself to care.
It’s been a week sincethat night, since I laid awake in Penn’s bed putting together the puzzle pieces of his behavior, and came to a startling conclusion.
The avoidance, his involvement with the arts center, walking me home, the ridiculous donation, and I suspect, fixing up my neighborhood. All of it is so ridiculously over the top that I felt like an idiot for not seeing it sooner.
I went to bed last night completely certain of his feelings for me and also positive he would try to push me away again.
Stripping naked and sucking his cock in the middle of the kitchen wasn’t part of the plan to convince him, but it worked.
The war had been waging behind his eyes before I began, and by the time I swallowed the last bit of his cum, it was gone.
“You’re mine now, little brat.” He’d growled down at me just as his phone rang on the table, and we were forced to concede the world did exist outside our lusty little bubble.
When he took the call, I wandered down to his studio and any remaining doubts I had evaporated.
Me. Everywhere.
Dozens of canvases leaned against the walls, each with the same palette of black and white, each featuring the same woman. A woman with my curves, my hair, my skin.
I know Penn’s art, I’d even watched him create some of the best-known works of his career, but none of them have anything on this new collection.
“They’re you.” I jumped at the sound of his voice, turning to find the disheveled-looking artist standing in the doorway, watching me. “I made the first one the night we met in the diner.” He moved further into the room, showing me all of them, explaining the moment over the past few weeks which inspired it.
Sometimes it was things like,“Your hair was blowing everywhere when I walked you home,”and others it was deeper, more emotional like,“It’s how you make me feel when you laugh.”
