Daddy Crush - Adriana Anders Page 0,47

responses.

Clearly restless, he reaches out, like he’s going to grab me, hesitates, then plants his hands on his knees where they remain, white-knuckled and tense.

Who’s submissive now, huh?

I love those hands. I love how big and neat and square his fingertips are, I love the thick knuckles and the rough patches, the ink scrawled there like the road map of his past. I really love the dark sprinkling of hair, serving no apparent purpose but to please me. I love all of him. Every life-hardened bit.

I pull back to examine his erection closer, tighten my hold, and watch a fat, glossy drop form at his slit. “What’s…”

“Precum,” he bites out. “Fuck, baby, feels so good.”

I lick it up, savoring the salty taste, the close-up scent. His entire body flinches, more than it did when I used my teeth, which is interesting. I lap at him in quick flicks, glance up at his face, and pause. He’s riveted. Not like watching a good movie riveted, like life or death riveted.

I want more of that look.

Instead of paying attention to his sex this time, I watch him as I lower my head and taste him. His expression is one of pure concentration, absolute engrossment. Mayhem could break out around us, and he’d stay focused on me.

When I pause, he goes all pained. Good. I lap up that hint of suffering amidst all the pleasure. When I dip my head this time, it’s to take him as far as I can. I fill my mouth and he groans like it hurts. That sound is the one I’ll file away to think of when I’m touching myself later. It’s uncontrolled, animalistic, wounded, and it speaks to something in my soul.

By the time I come up for breath, he’s gasping and lifting his hips for more, his hands dig so deeply into his knees it’s got to hurt.

I pull away and lick our combined tastes from my lips before wiping my mouth with the back of my arm. His hand twitches like he wants to yank me back. In my mind, he loses control—wraps his hand in my hair or tightens it on my throat or my breast. Maybe strokes himself while he works his big, stiff cock into my throat. My nipples zing at the idea.

“What do you need me to do?” I ask, so excited I have to squeeze my legs together.

“This. This is good.”

“No. No, tell me what you like. What to do. I want something.” I want him to take over.

He grunts and I can’t hold back a smile. I love it. I do. I love this experience the way I love cake and adventure and the zingy scent of fall. The way I love my work and living here, on my own. And it’s not just my tastebuds involved, it’s my skin, my insides, my brain.

“Tell me,” I whisper, feeling so much like the snake with the apple that I shiver.

“I want to…” He swallows, his eyes dashing madly over me, like he wants it all and doesn’t know where to start.

“Just do it,” I urge, knowing he won’t hurt me.

With a narrow-eyed look, he leans close. “Suck the tip,” he whispers, tangling his hands in my hair. “I’ll do the rest.”

Without another word, I lower my face, wrap my mouth around him, and give him back the reins.

He’s gentle at first, and slow. I breathe through my nose and he pushes in. I accept, relaxing my jaw as best I can. His hands in my hair guide, without forcing, although there are moments when I wish he’d get a little rougher. But then tonight’s not about that, I guess. Tonight’s something else entirely.

I’ll leave taking things too far for some other time.

I’m initially disappointed when he nudges me away, but when he half stands to yank down his jeans and underwear, I’m fascinated. Distracted at the way he caresses his testicles, I forget what I’m doing, but his grip on my hair brings me back in line, as effectively as the crack of a whip. My belly squirms and everything else goes haywire—my breasts, my mouth, that needy place between my legs. I reach down to relieve the ache and find myself soaking wet—no surprise.

“Oh, fuck. You touching yourself? Working that little clit? You wet for me?”

With my mouth full of cock, I can only moan my assent. He likes it, judging from the way his hips thrust. My eyes tear up, I draw back to avoid gagging, catch