“Yes, I need a veiny cock in my asshole,” I whimper. “Please, Daddy, don’t stop.”
Hunter groans and keeps going, adding a third finger, making me feel full and wild and totally owned in my bottom.
Then he reaches around and plays with my clit with his other hand, rubbing it in slow, perfect circles.
It’s too much. I come hard, screaming, my whole body shaking. My pussy clenches, my ass squeezing around his fingers. I fall forward, limp, but he holds me up, still working my anus, still talking dirty.
“Fuck, you’re a filthy girl,” he moans, “letting an older man finger your asshole like that. Fuck fuck fuck.”
“Yessss,” I mewl, panting. “Yes yes yes!”
He lets me collapse onto the bed then, digits still buried in my butt. He kisses my back worshipfully, licking slightly along my spine.
“You were incredible, sweetheart,” he rasps. “But I’m liking this too much. I want to keep my fingers buried in your asshole for as long as possible.”
Oh my god, is he serious? But as I climb off his big form, I’m careful not to dislodge his digits because it feels good. Whatever Hunter wants is what he gets, and if that means plugging my bottom in any way he chooses, then so be it.
I’m only too happy to go along for the ride.
When I wake,the room is dim and Hunter is still awake, propped on an elbow, watching me.
He smiles, white teeth flashing in the dark. There’s something dark in his eyes.
“Can’t sleep?” I ask.
He shakes his head, then kisses my temple. “Just didn’t want to miss a minute.”
I smile, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he strokes my hair, and I can feel the tension in him, like he’s about to say something but can’t get the words out.
“Hunter?”
He looks at me, jaw tight.
“Nothing,” he says. “Just thinking.”
But I see it in his eyes, the thing he’s not saying.
He knows something, and he’s not telling me.
But for now, he just holds me, his arms wrapped tight, as if he can keep me from slipping away.
I close my eyes, let myself float.
Tomorrow, I’ll ask the questions.
Tonight, I just want to be Daisy.
And I want to be his.
11
CHAPTER 11 – DEEPENING BONDS
Daisy
I’m standing at the stove in Hunter’s kitchen, splattered with flecks of oil and clinging to a spatula like it’s a talisman. I don’t even remember how I got here, just that a minute ago I was in bed, and now I’m cracking eggs into a bowl the color of robins’ eggs.
