My wetness squirms and grinds against his hand, I can’t even remember why I was angry.
He carries me through his villa. Along corridors. Past gold-framed paintings. Vintage bottles of wine. A photo of him standing outside some hotel in a dashing silver suit, cutting a big red ribbon.
His bedroom has a four-poster bed.A four-poster bed. Silk sheets. Marble floor. He flicks on a lamp and carries me to the bed.
“What can Daddy do to make it up to you?”
Outside, more crashing. Storming. Raging. Blue lightning flashes against the window and across his face.
I turn my face away.
“Is my horny virgin getting shy on me now?” he growls. “Has Daddy upset you?”
“Yeah-huh,” I murmur … but it turns into a moan halfway through.
He sinks to his knees in front of me. Smooths his hands between my ass and the sheets. Pulls me against him and then then pushes his mouth against my pussy.
Oh. My. God.
It’s so hot. Like his mouth is a pool of lava.
He squeezes my ass like he owns me. I know he’ll leave marks. I want him to.
His tongue strokes my clit. Slowly at first. But then he gets quicker. Flicking the end of his tongue against my nub like he’s trying to drive me wild.
I stare down at his silver head buried between my legs. He growls. Hot breath painting my lust. My hips start to twitch in time with him. Involuntarily. Like there’s some lust demon inside me who knows what I want. Who doesn’t care if I’ve never done this before.
He sucks my clit. Looks up at me. Lets it go with a moistpop.
“That’s a good fucking girl,” he snarls. “Grinding your hips so Daddy knows you want it. Knows you need it. That makes Daddy so hard.”
“Yeah, Daddy?”
“Does my horny girl want to see?”
I nod.
He smooths his hand over my sex. Gathers my wetness. Then slides his finger right to his knuckle. My tunnel clenches around him. The muscles in my thighs squeeze.
“Tell Daddy,” he snarls. “Tell Daddy what you need.”
“I nuh-need …”
He swirls his finger around inside of me. Teasing. Torturing.
“Say.” He moves quicker. “It.” Stroking even faster. “Now.”
“I need to see your dick, Daddy.”
My eyes blur with tears of pleasure. Of tension. His smirk tics, then he stands.
He tears off his clothes like a werewolf getting ready to change shape. Every shred of fabric comes away. Reveals a torso of marbled and huge muscle. A scar across one pec. A faint smattering of silver hair.
And then …
I gulp.
His thing springs up. Thick, veins pressing hungrily against it. His cock shudders as he stares at me.
