“That would be disappointing,” he replied.
God!
“You gonna try to hold on?”
“Yes,” I breathed as his fingers kept at it.
“Good girl, holding on for Daddy.”
God, just those words nearly made me lose control.
He watched my face, held my eyes as his fingers played. I held on. He kept doing it. I kept holding on.
I was holding tight with both hands to the end of the scarf tied around my wrists and panting, my legs and bottom tight and quivering and he whispered, “Fuck me, magnificent. How much more can you take, baby?”
“Keep giving it to me and we’ll see,” I gasped.
“Fuck, magnificent,” he growled.
Then he kept giving it to me without giving it to me.
Finally, to keep control, my head went back an inch and my teeth sunk into my lip.
“Okay, Anya, you’re done,” he decided, his finger grazed my clit, my neck arched, my h*ps bucked and I came instantly.
When I was coming down, his fingers were slipping through and his lips were at my ear.
“Saturated,” he growled. “Roll to your back, you know how I like it. Offer that pu**y to me. Daddy’s gonna lick you clean.”
He pulled away and I didn’t hesitate. I rolled to my back, lifted my knees high and spread my legs wide.
Then my Daddy licked me clean and made me come again doing it.
Then he f**ked me hard and he made me come doing that too.
Then he didn’t untie me after he turned out the lights and settled tight to my side. He made me fall asleep with his hand cupping me, two fingers inside.
I slept like a baby.
Not a single dream.
Chapter Twelve
Mr. Sebring
I wandered down the hall in my platinum high-heeled sandals, wearing my kickass, platinum satin dress that clung to all the right parts of me. It was super short, had some intriguing drapes and was held up at my shoulders by slim, oval metal links. My clutch was tucked under my arm and my neck was bent, head twisted, forearms raised because I was still putting in my earring.
I heard Knight on the phone and I knew he was somewhere in the kitchen-living room area.
It was Friday, three weeks from Sandrine Scene, the Sequel.
The good news was, as of Wednesday, I was officially a certified skin technician. Classes were done and three of my nights were free. The other good news was, Knight’s employee, Kathleen, booked a weekly manicure on Monday nights. Weekly! Sixty extra dollars a month and that didn’t include tip. Crazy cool. Further good news was, Sandrine was laying low and licking her wounds that she messed it all up and strange, somewhat loser-ish rich guy who was still into her slipped through her fingers. She hadn’t been out since which meant she might have learned her lesson (hopefully). More good news was that it was the end of April, the weather was warming up and summer, my favorite season, was around the corner.
And the last good news was all things Knight.
We didn’t see each other often but we slept in the same bed every night (well, some of it, at least, since he was never home before two thirty). Sometimes, though rarely, he simply joined me and I didn’t even know it until the alarm sounded and I woke up beside him. Most times, he woke me and did me bossy. A few times, he woke me and made gentle love to me.
I liked all three.