"This." I slide two fingers inside myself, gasping. "You. Your hands. Your mouth."
"My cock?" He steps closer, grabs my wrist, and pulls my fingers out. Then he brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean, his eyes locked on mine. "Fuck, you taste good."
Before I can respond, he drops to his knees and buries his face between my thighs.
I scream as his tongue drags through my folds. He devours me like a starving man, his tongue fucking into me while his thumb works my clit.
"Joel—oh my God!"
He pulls back just enough to speak. "That's it, baby. Say my name. Let the whole fucking neighborhood know who's making you feel this good."
Then his mouth is on my clit, sucking hard, and I shatter. The orgasm rips through me so violently I nearly fall off the counter, but his hands grip my thighs, holding me in place as he works me through it.
He doesn't stop. Even as I'm coming down, oversensitive and shaking, he keeps going—gentler now but relentless. He adds two fingers, curling them inside me while his tongue circles my clit, and impossibly, I feel another orgasm building. This one is deeper, more intense, and when it hits I'm sobbing his name.
When he finally pulls back, his lips and chin are wet with me, and the sight is so filthy I almost come again.
"Get down here," I demand, my voice shaky. "I need you inside me. Now."
He stands, and I reach for his belt with trembling hands. He helps me, shoving his jeans and boxers down, and then he's gloriously bare and—
"Oh fuck," I breathe.
He's big. Thick. The head flushed and leaking. I wrap my hand around him and he hisses. He pulls me off the counter and spins me around, bending me over the cool marble. I'm completely exposed—ass in the air, legs spread—and I feel his hand slide down my spine.
"Look at you," he murmurs. "So fucking perfect. So ready for me."
I feel the head of his cock nudge against my entrance, and then he's pushing inside in one hard thrust.
"Fuck!" I cry out at the stretch, the fullness, the slight burn that quickly turns to pleasure.
"Too much?" His voice is strained.
"No! More, please!"
He pulls out and slams back in, harder this time, and I have to brace myself against the counter. He sets a punishing pace, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise, and it's everything I've ever wanted.
"This what you needed?" he growls. "Needed me to fuck you like this?"
"Yes! Yes!"
His hand slides up my spine, fists in my hair, and pulls my head back. "Come." It's a command. "Come on my cock, baby. Let me feel you."
I do, clenching around him so hard he groans. But he doesn't stop—just fucks me through it, drawing it out until I'm boneless and shaking.
Then he pulls out, spins me around, and lifts me into his arms like I weigh nothing. My legs wrap around his waist and he's inside me again in seconds, bouncing me on his cock as he walks us to the living room.
"Can't stop," he pants against my neck. "Need more. Need all of you."
He lays me down on the couch and comes down over me, his hips driving into mine with renewed intensity. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him deeper, and the sounds we're making are obscene.
"So fucking tight," he groans. "Taking me so well. Such a good girl."
The praise makes me clench around him, and he notices.
"You like that?" His hand wraps around my throat. "Like being my good girl?"
"Yes," I gasp. "Yes—Daddy—"
