I begin to move, finding a rhythm that sends pleasure spiraling through me. Up, then down, taking him deep with each stroke. His eyes never leave mine, watching every expression that crosses my face with hungry intensity.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his voice strained with the effort of remaining still, of letting me control our pace. “Take your pleasure. Show me how you like it.”
I experiment, changing angles, changing speed, watching his reactions to learn what he likes best. When I lean forward slightly, the friction against my clit makes me gasp, and I move faster.
“Yes,” he hisses, his fingers digging into my hips. “Just like that. God, you’re beautiful like this. So fucking beautiful, taking your pleasure, using me to make yourself feel good.”
His words send another rush of heat through me. I’ve never felt so powerful, so desirable, so completely in command of my own pleasure and his.
“You like watching me ride you, Daddy?” The words come easier now, confidence growing with each roll of my hips.
“Fuck yes,” he growls, his control visibly slipping. “Love watching my princess take what she needs. Love feeling you squeeze around my cock.”
I’m close now, pleasure building with each movement. Caleb must sense it because one of his hands slides between us, thumb finding my clit with unerring accuracy.
“Come for me,” he urges, circling that sensitive bundle of nerves in time with my movements. “Let me feel you, princess. Let me see you fall apart.”
The combined sensation of his cock inside me and his thumb against my clit is overwhelming. I throw my head back, rhythm faltering as pleasure crests and breaks, washing through me in waves that have me crying out his name. My inner muscles clench around him, pulling him deeper as I ride out my climax.
“That’s it,” he praises, his voice tight with strain. “So good, so perfect. Mine.”
Before the aftershocks have fully faded, he’s sitting up, arms wrapping around me to hold me close as he takes control. His hips thrust up into me, pace brutal and perfect as he chases his own release.
“Mine,” he repeats against my neck, the word a brand and a promise. “Say it, Nola. Tell me who you belong to.”
“Yours,” I gasp as another wave of pleasure builds, unexpected and intense. “I’m yours, Daddy.”
He groans, deep and raw, his rhythm faltering as he reaches the edge. “Coming inside you,” he warns, his arms tightening around me. “Filling my princess with my come.”
The crude words combined with the feeling of him pulsing inside me triggers another orgasm, smaller but no less intense. I cling to him, our bodies pressed together from chest to hip as we ride out the pleasure together.
When it finally subsides, we collapse onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, his cock still buried inside me, our breath mingling in the small space between our faces. His hand comes up to cup my cheek, thumb stroking gently over my lower lip.
“Definitely moving your things in here tomorrow,” he says, voice soft but certain.
I laugh, the sound turning into a contented sigh as he shifts us to our sides, still connected, his arms keeping me close. “Whatever you say, Daddy.”
Chapter Nine
CALEB
The numberson the financial report swim in front of me, blurring into meaningless shapes for the fifth time in an hour.
I blink hard, forcing myself to focus, but my eyes drift across the room to where Nola sits at her desk, the afternoon light catching in her hair as she tucks a strand behind her ear.
She shifts in her chair, crossing one leg over the other, completely unaware of how the simple movement wrecks my concentration.
She’s wearing one of her modest dresses, dark blue, practical, nothing special. But I know what’s underneath it now. Know the exact texture of her skin, the small birthmark on her left hip, the way she trembles when I touch her just right.
I’m staring again. She doesn’t notice. She’s focused on whatever task I gave her earlier, her brow furrowed slightly in concentration, teeth worrying her lower lip. I want to cross the room and take that lip between my own teeth. Want to pull her onto my lap and feel her yield against me the way she has every time we’ve touched.
But there’s something I need to do first.
I set down my pen with a decisive click. Nola looks up, her green eyes finding mine instantly, a question in them.
“I’ll be back shortly,” I tell her. “Continue with the press release draft.”
She nods, that small smile playing around her lips, the one that’s just for me.
