“Even him.” I cup his cheek. “We were always safe. I never wanted to be pregnant in the middle of hockey season. You were my first and only.”
Isaac’s intense gaze sears into me. “And I’ll be your last.” He kisses me again, claiming me as his, as he slowly rocks in and out of me.
The words are on the tip of my tongue. I love Isaac, always have. When I’m back home, I’ll need to unpack all of this with my therapist. For now, I let him have all of me—at least physically.
“You feel so fucking good,” he grits out.
So does he. Too good. I should remind him that all of this is a terrible idea. Hell, I should do a lot of things right now—except tell him, “Fuck me, Daddy.” But that’s exactly what I do.
Embarrassment washes over me for what has to be the twentieth time tonight. As I’m about to take it back, he bites my lip enough to sting, then asks, “You want Daddy to fill you?”
“Yes.” It’s the only word I can manage, and it comes out barely above a whisper. If there was ever a ‘fuck it’ moment in my life, this is it. I can worry about the emotional damage in the morning.
It’s his undoing. Isaac interlocks our fingers and pins my hands above my head, sealing his lips back on mine as he finally gives me what I’ve been aching for since the last time we were together. It’s as if every version of him I’ve ever conjured chose to manifest itself tonight. He’s still my sweet Isaac from when we were younger, but mixed with the commanding Daddy Isaac from my imagination. Kissing him isn’t like any other man I’ve dated—he owns me. His thrusts are rough, punishing, but also delicious. I tilt my hips to help him slide in deeper, and the angle is sheer perfection. It gives him just enough space to slide a hand between us and circle my clit. I wind tighter and tighter, my orgasm almost within reach.
So help me if he doesn’t let me come this time…
He squeezes my hands tighter, and I’m brought back to the present. Over and over, he’s been clear and warned me that we’d only do this if I was his. I can’t be—at least not publicly.
And just like that, my orgasm is officially lost.
I tear my mouth away from him to rush out, “Wait.”
“Fuck, are you okay? Am I hurting you?” Worry etches his features as he releases my hands. “I know you got out of bed when I was in the shower, but this was never intended to be your punishment.”
“No,” I chuckle. “You didn’t hurt me—even in a fun way. I’m just overthinking again.”
“What do you need?”
“Please don’t hate me for saying this, but this is just too…” I struggle to find the right words.
“I could never hate you, and none of this has ever been about just sex. I get if you need an escape. So, let me give it to you.”
“Really?”
“I have my whole life to win you back. More than anything, I want you to trust me.” He pulls out, sitting back on his heels, and as if a switch flips within him, his aura is now darker, more commanding. “Hands on the headboard, babygirl. You let me live out a sliver of my own fantasy, now it’s your turn.”
“Are you sure?”
Lowering his mouth to my nipple, he swirls his tongue once, then takes the sensitive bud between his teeth, making me yelp. “Headboard. Now.”
I do as he asks, but there’s nothing to grip onto. I press my palms against the firm faux-leather, sucking in a breath as he lifts my thigh and shifts himself until his head is under me.
“What are you doing?”
Isaac replies with his hands on my hips, pulling me to sit on his mouth. He doesn’t let me protest, guiding me into a rocking motion. The scratch of his beard, the expert licks of his tongue, and his possessive touch transport me back fifteen years ago. But this is different; he’s hungrier. Then again, so am I.
He knows my body better than I do, and this time, I let myself give in, crying out as I come on his face. A shiver dances down my arms and spine, making it difficult to stay upright. He doesn’t let up as the ecstasy ripples down to my toes. Wave after wave, my vision doesn’t fully clear for several minutes. If someone asked what year it is, I couldn’t tell you.
When Isaac finally slows down, he lifts me a couple of inches, shimming out from under me. I fall forward, resting my forehead on the headboard as I catch my breath. I’m only there a moment when Isaac takes a fistful of my hair, gently tugging me until my back is flush with his chest.
He kisses my neck in my favorite place from years ago, and I sigh against him. “I just need a minute,” I whisper, mostly to myself.
“You did so well, babygirl. But you were supposed to stay on the bed, and instead, you came to the bathroom door to watch me fist my cock.” Guiding me until my face is in one of the pillowsand my ass is in the air, he adds, “For that, you’re going to count to five for me.”
I anticipate a spanking that never comes. “One?”
“Good girl. I want you begging for them.” His palm comes down on my ass with a crack.
