I stifle a moan, then call out, “Two.” Again, I wait, my pussy clenching with need. “Please?”
“Please, what?”
“Please, Daddy.”
He lets me squirm, but only for a few seconds before he spanks the other cheek. I just came and am already dripping for him. “Are you going to be my good girl and listen from now on?”
“I promise,” I insist sweetly, and he rewards me with his strong hand stinging my ass again. My yelp quickly becomes a moan.
After one more, he doesn’t continue, instead palming my sore skin before pressing a soft kiss to each of my ass cheeks. “You enjoy a little pain, don’t you, babygirl?”
“Yes,” I whimper, needing that fifth punishing slap.
Isaac slides his hand up my spine, then wraps his fingers around the front of my throat and pulls me back to him as he did before. This time, he lines his cock up with my pussy and glides inside in one slow thrust. “Yes, what, baby?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I breathe, and as I swallow, my throat bobs against his hand.
He licks up the side of my neck, nipping at my earlobe. “One day I will fuck you so hard, you’ll struggle to walk the next day. Butfor now”—he slips his free hand between my legs to play with my clit—“I want you wet and needy for me tomorrow when I won’t be able to touch you like this.”
He’s absolutely right. My ass is sore, enough that when I sit during the ceremony, I’ll feel a little sting. All it will take is hearing his voice, and I’ll have flashbacks of tonight. I’ll need to reconsider my outfit for tomorrow to ensure no one will notice if I’m soaked thinking about him.
As he trails soft kisses down to my shoulder, he firmly circles my clit, exactly how I would do it myself if I forgot to charge my vibrator. I coil tighter and tighter, so close, but something is missing. I can’t put my finger on it.
Isaac slows his pace, and I cry out. So help me, if he edges me, I may need to use my safe word after all. He chuckles darkly against my skin, “Not yet, babygirl.” Squeezing the sides of my throat, he builds me up again. “Trust that I’ll take care of you.” Even after years apart, I still trust him—especially with my body. This is what I asked for, and I need to get out of my head, hand over control.
I begin releasing the tension I’m holding, starting at my toes and working my way up to my neck. It takes a while, but once I’m fully relaxed, Isaac increases the pressure and pace on my clit. My breath is ragged as I clear my mind and focus only on his touch.
He bites down on my shoulder, not quite enough to pierce the skin, but the mild sting sends me over the edge as he grunts, “Fucking perfect… and mine.”
My orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave. Through the euphoria, a single word tumbles from me. “Yours.”
A growl rumbles in his chest, vibrating against my back. “All. Fucking. Mine.” In an instant, he pulls out of me and tosses me on the bed. My hair fans out on the pillow, but I’m certain it’s more of a “just woke up” look and not at all attractive. He doesn’t seem to mind as his hands and mouth roam my body as if he’s cataloging every inch of me.
Sliding my hands into his hair, I admit, “Always have been.” It isn't just a line or something sexy to say after coming harder than I have in recent memory. I’ll always be his.
Isaac kisses me deeply as he teases the head of his thick cock around my clit a few times before slipping back inside me. His movements are slow and intentional… and I’m done pretending. No more games, no more roleplay or whatever it is we’re doing. He’s not Daddy, and I’m not his babygirl. He’s my Isaac. Mine.
A flash of memories skate across my mind from when we first met. The coffee order, his adorable dimples, the slutty little glasses and flannel. Running into the door because I was so distracted. His hand on my lower back as he encouraged me to speak up in class. His phone number on that little piece of paper. Our walk to dinner. The plate of nachos. My sleepless night. Our first kiss before coffee. We only had a few months, but a piece of me held out hope that one day things would be different and we’d find each other again after he left.
Each swipe of his tongue is a cruel reminder of what we were and what we can never be. This isn’t us getting something out of our systems—we’re pouring fifteen years of missing each other into a single night. I’ll likely regret it in the morning when my heart shatters just like it did when he left New York, but I still let him make love to me.
The buildup is too intense, too raw. I’m seconds from using my safe word when he tears his lips from mine and stares into my damn soul. I can’t handle it and pull him back to me, shutting my eyes tight, kissing him again.
Isaac grips my ass, adjusting the angle, hitting exactly where I need him as he fucks me deeper and harder, keeping the same pace. Letting myself pretend we have more than tonight, it only takes a few more thrusts before he sends me over the edge. Stars dance behind my eyes, and I struggle to catch my breath. A sob threatens as reality sets in, but I stuff it down, letting the pleasure override the emotional pain of what we did.
He groans into my mouth, his own release following mine by mere seconds. Our breaths in sync, his cock throbs as he spills himself inside me. Collapsing on top of me, he props up onto his elbows as he peppers kisses on every inch of me within reach. I don’t know how I’ll be able to look at him in the morning without my pussy aching for him to fill me again. It isn’t just the mind-blowing sex. I miss him so fucking much, and the realization is a stab in the heart.
“Fuck, Livy. That was…”
“Yeah,” I whimper.
As he pulls out of me, his eyes are dark, fixed on where we were just joined. I gasp at the sudden emptiness, but it’s thankfully short-lived. He presses two fingers inside me, groaning as he drags them out, coated in a mix of both of us.
Tracing his slick fingers up my body until he reaches my lips, he commands, “Open.” It’s quiet but firm.
I do as he asks, and he glides them into my mouth. I close my lips around them, sucking and licking them clean. He closes the distance, kissing me as moans slip from both of us on contact.
When we break apart, he insists, “We always tasted good together. Oh, and you’re not showering before the inauguration.”
