Dear Daddy, Please Spank Me - Chara Croft Page 0,40

got you.”

He pulled my chin down to open my mouth wider and used his other hand to push my head back in toward his cock, and oh fuck. I knew he thought that’s what I’d meant, that I wanted his cock too badly—which fuck yeah, I definitely did—but guess there was a needy, fucked-up part of my brain that I hadn’t known was even in there before, because I wanted him to mean those words a different way. I wanted to believe it, to slip right back into that head space I’d been in when he’d spanked me, all hazy and floaty and turned the fuck on, but also a hundred percent sure that letting myself go like that was fine because, like Andy had said just said, he had me.

“Keep your mouth open for me, petal,” he said, guiding it to his bulge again. Moving my head how he wanted it. Using me like a sex toy to start stroking himself off, right through his jeans.

The denim rasped against my tongue, drying it out as he ran my mouth up and down the hard length of his cock, but fuck if I cared, not when I could feel him pulsing against my tongue. Not when it felt so fucking good to know he wanted this, wanted my mouth after he’d turned it down before, wanted me back after I’d ghosted him.

I flexed my tongue against him and he groaned, hands tightening on my head.

“Yeah. Just like that. Feels so good, baby. You look incredible down on your knees for me like this.”

It felt like exactly where I belonged, but fuck if I was going to say something like that out loud and sound like a needy bitch in heat… not that I could have anyway, since he was one hundred percent in control of my mouth and was currently keeping it busy. Thrusting against my face. Holding me tightly enough to keep me there. Making me fucking desperate to actually taste the real thing as the salty tang of his precum soaked through the denim and I did my damndest to suck every drop of it right back out. And when all that suction action I was giving him made another one of those quiet, low-vibration groans of his spill from his lips, it just spurred me on. I wanted to make it as good as I could for him. I wanted him as desperate for my mouth as I was for him to use it. I wanted him to… fuck. I wanted him to tell me I was good for him again.

I kept my mouth hot and wet and wide, relaxing into his grip so he could slide my face up and down the hard ridge of his cock the way he needed, show me what he liked, use me however he wanted to… except this was Andy, so somehow him using me to get himself off still felt like he was actually giving me what I wanted. And Andy’s version of giving me what I wanted always seemed to be showing me something I hadn’t even known I wanted, not until he decided I needed it. Case in point? I’d thought I just wanted to suck him off tonight—and I didn’t know what the fuck this actually was, other than hot—but leave it to Andy to take something as simple as a blow job and turn it into something… more. Something new. Something better.

Every time his fingers tensed against my skull, every hot-ass sound that gusted out of his mouth as he stroked himself off against my tongue, every murmured “so good, baby” and “just like that” and “I love your mouth” that he dropped, sent me closer and closer to that fuzzy high I’d found with him last time, and I didn’t even realize I was moaning for him until he called me on it.

“That’s right, petal,” he said, the deep bass of his voice thrumming down my spine and settling in my balls, making me suddenly feel desperate for some relief of my own. “Daddy knows what you need, but you’re going to have to be good for me if you want me to take my dick out and can taste the real thing, baby.” He pushed me off and tipped my chin up so I had to look at him, rubbing his thumb over my lips. “Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” I said, swallowing a few times to get some moisture back in my mouth.