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On the drive here, fighting to distract myself from my nerves, I ran through all the possible outcomes of tonight. I pictured an old, gross guy slobbering all over me, eager for the touch of a much younger woman.
I even considered the possibility that he might ask me to call him Daddy to live out some sick fantasy in his head, but . . .
Not once did I consider that I might actually want to. That I would look at the man who’d paid to spend the weekend with me and want to give in to his every demand. Let him have me, everything from my body to my heart. I don’t even know his character. He could be a horrible person, but I can’t focus on that.
Christ, I should probably have a bit of self-preservation, but looking into those blue eyes, all my brain cells are fried, and I can’t think past his touch or his intoxicating scent. He smells so sharply of wood and cedar that I want to bury my nose in his collar and drown in his masculine scent.
“I’ll stay, Daddy,” I breathe, staring dazedly at him. “I’ll be a good girl and do anything you want.”
His eyes flash with heat, and his nostrils flare at my words. I watch with satisfaction as his cold exterior breaks a little, exposing the desire underneath.
“Lay down on the bed and close your eyes,” he instructs, letting go of my hair and stepping back. My brows draw in confusion, but I don’t protest, doing as he asks. My body is trembling as I lie down on the bed and close my eyes, anticipating his next move.
A shudder courses through me when I feel his fingers caress my face, then move down my body.
With my eyes closed, I am in tune with every sound he makes and every brush of his fingers against my skin.
“I have all night to play with you,” he says roughly. “Keep your eyes closed, or I will have to punish you.”
“Okay, Daddy,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
With only my eyes closed, the rest of me is exposed, and I can’t help but feel vulnerable, anticipating his next move. The thought of him touching me and finding out just how wet I am is mortifying. Am I even supposed to be this wet? My sex is practically pulsing with heat, and he hasn’t even touched me.
“Fuck, you are so goddamned sexy,” he curses, sliding the back of his hand over the slope of my breast to my stomach. “How is it no one has touched you before now?”
“I . . .”
Whatever it is I was going to say fades away when he slides his fingers between my thighs and dips the middle one into my sex. “You are practically dripping over my fingers, angel,” he says hoarsely, dragging his finger over the valley of my sex before drawing it back. “Hmm, you taste so fucking delicious too. It’s so tempting to forget everything and bury myself between your drenched folds.”
“Please,” I whimper, unsure what it is I am asking for, but trusting that he knows what to do.
A tremble wracks my body, and my nipples harden into tight peaks when his lips brush against my neck. I tilt my head to allow him more access, whimpering when his scruffy beard brushes my sensitive skin. He slides his large hands to my breast, pinching my nipples between his fingers and tugging gently as he kisses a path up my chin.
“I’ve thought of kissing this mouth from the second I saw you,” he rasps, grabbing my chin and brushing his lips softly against mine, pulling back when I lean in to deepen the kiss. I moan in protest when Nick moves away, robbing me of the pleasure of my first kiss as he moves to my neck where he rakes his teeth over my sensitive skin.
Is it strange that I can feel his gaze scour my body, each caress leaving a burning sensation behind? Each second he drags this out without touching me makes my sex pulse with so much need, I want to cry, rage . . . beg for more.
I’ve seen it in movies. Seen the way couples jump each other with such undiluted hunger, the man making love to the woman before they are even completely in the house, and yet . . . all Nick does is toy with me.
One touch here, another there, as though savoring me, and it’s driving me to madness.
I need more!
My back arches when he kisses between my breasts, my sensitive nipples aching with the need to feel his touch.
“Patience, angel,” he whispers against my skin, his hot breath fanning my nipples as he kisses around them before finally taking an aching bud into his mouth with wet suction. I cry out, digging my fingers into the sheets and arching into his touch as pressure builds in my core. “You like that, don’t you, angel? Having Daddy lick your rosy buds.”
“Oh, God!” I whimper when he drags his tongue over my sensitive nipple before moving to the other and driving me to madness with his sinful mouth.
“My cock is so hard, it’s close to busting. Can you feel it, angel?” he grits out against my skin, grinding his erection into my thigh even as he sucks my bud back into his mouth. “I could come just from playing with your tits, little girl.”
Christ, why do I like that so much?
“Oh, Daddy.” I groan at the soft suction that’s driving me crazy. It’s too much, and yet, not enough. I bring my hands to his waist and dig my nails into his sides, trying to keep him close.
My body is trembling when Nick starts to kiss a path down my stomach, placing soft kisses over my sensitive skin. Liquid heat pools between my legs when he bends my knees and shoves them apart, leaving me more exposed and vulnerable than I thought possible.
“Fucking hell, angel, your folds are practically glued together,” he growls, rubbing his thumb over my sex. My breathing turns shallow as he parts the folds, and not for the first time, I wish I could look at his face as he watches me. It’s tempting to open my eyes, but I want to be good for him, for Daddy.
