Page 80 of SALT

"I thought we didn't have time for that." He tosses my words back at me. "Maybe if you ask nicely, you'll get what you want."

"Please, Daddy, I want your cock inside of me." He coughs, and his hands fall away as the realization of the words I chose sinks in. "Shit, Everett. I didn't mean it that way. It's your suit and this moment. Me, naked before you in my bathroom. You're fully dressed, looking sexy as hell, exuding power the way you always do when you wear them." I bite my lip. "And I like it when you're rough with me, when you take me the way you want me, when you lose control and don't treat me like I'll break." I try to turn around, but he stops me, and for a second, I believe I ruined the moment.

"Does that turn you on?"

"What?" I ask, searching his face. That's when I see his tongue dip out and moisten his bottom lip. My comment may have caught him off guard, but he doesn't hate it.

"Calling me daddy, does it turn you on?" His eyes meet mine in the mirror as he unbuckles his belt.

There's no way he's not into it. I can tell by the way his eyes are already lidded he's more than fucking turned on. He's borderline feral. "I don't know, Daddy hasn't fucked me yet."

"Cameron, I'm going to give this to you once," he says, his hands gripping my hips as he pulls me back onto his hard length, running it through my slick folds. "I'll always give you what you want, but you tell me if it's too much." I nod, more than ready for him to pound into me. He smacks my ass. "Words, Cameron."

"Yes, I'll tell you if it's too much."

"Good." His tip nudges my entrance, and his eyes lock onto mine in the mirror. "You ready to take Daddy's cock like a good girl?"

I push back on his cock. "As long as you're ready to fuck me like I'm bad."

"Fuck," he hisses. "You're going to pay for that."

"I'm counting on it."

He growls before his fingers dig into my hips, and he pulls back, his eyes dropping to my ass before he slams back in, drawing out a whimper. His eyes flash to mine, and when he's convinced he sees lust and not pain, he repeats the move again. I watch him in the mirror as he bottoms out hard two more times, biting his lip every time he sees his cock covered in my juices. When he catches me watching, he says, "The only thing better than being inside of you is watching you while I'm there. Don't look at me. Look at you." He slams in hard again. "The way those full breasts sway every time I hit that spot deep inside of you." His hands slide up my hips, his fingers lightly trailing up my sides. "The way your skin pebbles beneath my touch." His lips find my shoulder. "And the way you flush from your neck to your cheeks when I'm making you feel good." Those firm hands return to my hips, where he braces himself. "You're fucking beautiful, Cameron Salt. A piece of art worthy of marveling. You better get used to me watching because now that I've seen you, I can never unsee you. You're all I ever want to see." His eyes hold mine for a long moment, ensuring I feel the sentiment before dropping back to my ass. "Now Daddy's going to fuck his girl."

He starts a punishing pace, and I watch on in the mirror. This time, admiring all the parts of me he pointed out, seeing them through a new lens. His lens. My breasts are full, my nipples hard from where they graze the cold granite top, my chest is tinged pink from the sun and my desire. His hands on my hips wreck me every time, especially when they are, as they are now, an anchor for him to push inside me as far as he can go. I can feel my juices dripping, and the way he groans when he loses himself is the stuff I live for. "Fuck, you're choking my cock." His eyes come back to mine, his lids heavy with pure adulation. "Come for me, sunshine."

Damn it, his words shatter me as my orgasm grabs hold of me, and my bones turn to dust. "Shit, baby," he says as his arms wrap around my waist. "Talk to me, Cameron. Are you okay?"

"Mm-hmm," I moan, "So good."

He groans a sigh of relief as he buries his face in the crook of my neck, his lips gently pressing into my sensitive skin as he catches his breath. "So perfect, so beautiful, so mine."

As my heart and my head come back down from the bliss I spiraled into, I say, "Now I need another shower."

His teeth nip my heated flesh. "The last thing you will be doing is taking a shower. The glow on your cheeks and my scent covering your body pair perfectly with the dress I laid out on the bed." He slowly pulls out, and my body instantly misses his warmth at my back—until he spins me in his arms and his lips tenderly kiss mine before he pulls back, his thumb caressing my cheek. "While I loved every second of watching you come undone around me, I'm not your daddy." His chocolate gaze holds mine, his eyes studying every second of what he sees reflected in mine. "I'm your, Ev, and you're my sunshine. That's us, and that's everything to me." I nod as my happiness sets on the perfect curves of his slow smile before his lips press against mine once more. "Get dressed." His hand swats my bare cheek once before he releases me and adds, "Before I change my mind and take you to bed instead."

"Are you okay?" Everett asks as we step up to the bar in the outdoor tent blanketed in Edison bulbs and rustic candelabras with wisteria vines draped whimsically over each fixture. It looks like something straight out of a fairytale. My eyes have been drawn to the décor since we walked in. In the past, Moira has held the event at the Four Seasons in St. Louis, but today, the event is being held outside at the Botanical Gardens in Forest Park. Maybe she is trying to make this different besides moving the date so close to my parents' anniversary.

"I'm fine, Ev, really. Stop worrying about me."

Everett doesn't show his nerves, but I can't help but feel like part of why he keeps asking if I'm okay is a projection. Did he go out of his way to make a show out of claiming me at the stadium? Yes. But Moira, his brothers, and his colleagues weren't there. A stadium full of strangers is different from a room full of people you've known for years. Besides helping me out of the town car that dropped us off, he hasn't held my hand or made any other gestures that would signal I'm more than I've ever been, aside from the occasional hand on my lower back to steer me through the crowd. I'm not bothered by it, but I've noticed.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asks.

"I'll have a cognac, neat." His hand finds my lower back, and my body soaks in its tenderness as he leans in and asks, "Do you want a glass of Pinot?"

I nod, my nerves easing slightly, knowing that he sees me. I'm not typically a wine drinker. I prefer my drinks spicy or fermented, but when I go out to a nice restaurant or attend events, I usually order wine because I sip it slowly and pace myself rather than going off the rails. "A glass of Pinot will do."

A familiar face starts walking our way. "I didn't know…" My words die off when I realize Everett is talking to the gentleman on the other side of him. His face is not one I am familiar with. He could be from work or someone associated with the charity.

"You clean up nice, Salt," Nash says as he sidles up next to me.

"Thanks, you don't look too shabby yourself. I would have lost money betting on you owning a suit."

He shrugs. "Yeah, well, when your dad is being honored with an Outstanding Philanthropic Award, you suit up." A smirk pulls at his lips before he adds, "I still wore the boots."

I look down at his feet, and sure enough, he's rocking biker boots, scuffs and all. Why is that sexy? "I'm sorry, I didn't realize your father was connected to the MacBeth Foundation."

---