Just Sign Here - Cara Dee Page 0,29

I had to feel him. Now. Right fucking now. I lifted his underwear, and I forced my cock toward his. Skin on skin. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was it. I trapped my cock under his and pressed a hand over his swelling bulge, and then I fucked the tight gap.

“Fuck,” I groaned. I rubbed the underside of his cock; its head pointed toward his abs, and the wet spot forming at the tip caused the same reaction in me as last time. My mouth watered. I wanted to taste him soon. I wanted to feel his cock in my throat, in my ass, in my hands.

Peyton whimpered and dug his fingernails into my biceps.

“Look what you’re making me do,” I said, breathing heavily. “I can’t fucking control myself around you. Here—hold here.” I placed his hand over his cock. “Press down so you make it tight for Daddy.”

“Yes, Daddy,” he gasped.

I gnashed my teeth and hooked an arm under his knee. Then I almost folded him in half and fucked him up against the counter. Over and over, I pushed my erection into the space between his cock and the smooth flesh above it. His soft hairs scratched my skin with every thrust, and my pre-come turned the makeshift hole warm and slick.

I gripped the back of his neck and nipped at his jaw. “We’re both gonna come in your underwear, Peyton,” I whispered. “We’re gonna make such a fucking mess out of you.”

“Oh fuck!” He threw his head back, the sexiest goddamn sight, and rubbed furiously at his cock.

It sent vibrations up my shaft, and I fucked him harder, faster, pushing my cock through the crease with punishing thrusts.

“You’ll look so good in Daddy’s come.” I licked a bead of perspiration that trickled down his neck, until I reached his earlobe. I sucked it into my mouth. “It’s time, baby. Come for Daddy. Soak my cock. Flood your underwear.”

Mere seconds later, he went rigid and let out a loud moan.

Warm come pulsed through the fabric, making his fingers glisten, and it trickled down to my cock too. As the scent of him reached my nostrils, I let go. Whether I wanted to or not. The bliss took over. I pushed against him once more, gliding through his orgasm with ease, and came.

“Oh my God,” he whimpered. “Oh my God.”

I groaned and bit into his shoulder.

Jesus Christ, what was this man doing to me?

This whole “I’m not going to budge an inch” bit wasn’t working out too well.

Eight

I remember when you asked me about my experience with BDSM.

The truth is, I’d read a blog entry about a Daddy Dominant and his Little Girl just the night before that’d hit so close to home, I’d almost started weeping. Back then, you were waking up parts of me I hadn’t even known were dormant in me.

It was right around here you became my world. I clung to everything you said.

That’s never going to change, Edward.

“Are you looking, Daddy?” Julia yelled, adjusting her floaties.

“Of course I am, my love.” I lowered my newspaper and watched as she darted into the pool where Peyton was waiting to catch her.

I grinned when my girl surfaced with a victory shout.

“That was fantastic,” Peyton praised her.

“Did you see, Daddy?” she called.

I chuckled. “I saw every second of it. You’re doing so great.”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “Chase me, Peyton.”

“Okay, I’m gonna chase ya.”

I smiled and shook my head at her antics. She swam about as gracefully as a dog with those floaties around her arms, but damn, she belonged in the water. She was fearless—sometimes too fearless. When I was in the pool with her, I let her get rid of the floaties, and she simply counted on me always being there to hold her up. She could throw herself in any direction without warning.

“Damn, we needed this weekend.” Cathryn stretched out on the lounger next to mine. If I were to venture a guess, she didn’t miss her family right this second.

“Indeed.” I hummed, returning to my paper.

Our first two weeks in the Caribbean had been hectic, and we’d covered Martinique, Montserrat, St. Croix, St. Thomas, the Dominican Republic, and Aruba so far. Yesterday, we arrived here in Jamaica for a much-needed break.

Peyton had received a reality check and no longer thought my job was glamorous “100% of the time.” We’d had back-to-back meetings with staff, managers, and local ad agencies that drained us to the point where we collapsed at the end of the day and didn’t