Page 57 of Viking Ink

Simon pulled away from his sensual assault on my arsehole long enough to rasp out, “Do it, baby. Come for Daddy.”

I wasn’t sure whether it was Daddy’s dark, lustful tone, or the magic his finger was working, but I came as if on command. I couldn’t even feel guilty about the cum that was now hitting the pristine bathroom tiles. My legs turned to jelly as I dropped back down into the tub, Daddy’s arms guiding me so I didn’t slip. I turned around to face Daddy and my jaw dropped. He was on his knees stroking himself, his hand working furiously. I moved close enough that I could dart my tongue out and taste the precome that leaked from the head of his cock.

“Daddy’s going to come, baby.”

That didn’t make me move. I wanted to taste him again, to feel his cum hitting my skin.

“Fuck,” he grunted out. Thick strands of cum landed on my lips and cheeks. He dropped down into the bath, pulling me with him until he was laying back in the warm water. We traded lazy kisses until the water began to cool.

I floated in a blissful state as Daddy brushed my damp hair away from my face. I still couldn’t believe it. After everything, we were here together.

“The water’s getting cold, love. We should get out and dry.” Daddy sat up, pulling me with him as he stood and got out of the tub. He swaddled me in a thick towel and picked me up bridal style before I could even blink.

“My hero.” I patted Daddy’s naked chest as he carried me through to the bedroom, tracing the lines of black ink.

“You looked so damn sexy, baby, it was either pick you up and bring you in here, or fuck you on the bathroom floor, and I’d rather your first time not be on cold tiles.” Daddy sounded so earnest, I didn’t doubt his comment was true.

“That’s very thoughtful, Daddy. I don’t think I want my first time on the tiles either. But maybe we can revisit the idea later.” The idea of Simon losing control and taking me anywhere in the house was hot, but I had to admit there was a small tangle of nerves in my belly. I’d never done this before. What if I was terrible—What if I was too inexperienced for Daddy?

“Rhys.” Simon’s use of my name had me focusing on him, my little headspace slipping away, baby bear giving way to Rhys. While I’d gotten stuck in my head, he’d laid us both down on his big comfortable bed. He looked down on me in concern. He had that divot between his brows again.

I reached up and smoothed it down.

Simon grabbed my hand, linking our fingers together. “We don’t have to go further tonight, Rhys. I don’t want you to feel pressured into something you’re not ready for.”

Simon was always looking out for me, whether I was in my little space or not. Always protecting, always worried he’d pushed too far. I didn’t want him to always be the one worrying about me. I wanted to look out for him too, and give him as much pleasure and happiness as he’d given me.

Simon’s breath came out in a ragged gasp as he leaned down and kissed me softly “You already do, baby.”

“I spoke out loud again, didn’t I?” My cheeks were going to be permanently red if I kept doing that.

“Yeah, you did.” Simon’s smile was infectious.

“Simon, I want us to fuck. I want to feel you inside and out. That way I know I’m not dreaming.”

Simons gave a devilish smile. “Babe, do you know how hot and dirty it sounds when you say shit like that?”

“Well, it’s your fault for being all sexy and manly.” It was true. Normally, swearing had me blushing and giggling like a four-year-old, but when Simon laid on the sexy, my potty mouth kicked in, and I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to rein it back in. “In case I didn’t make it clear, Simon”—I traced my hand down his side, reaching between us to grab his length and stroking him slowly—“I want this.”

“Fuck. Okay, let me get the lube.” Simon sat up, and I immediately missed his warmth and weight against me. I rolled onto my side so I could watch as he fumbled in his nightstand, getting a wonderful look at the panorama of ink that covered his broad back. He grabbed out the lube and smiled as he held out a packet of condoms, “I don’t want to presume, Ree, but I had my blood work done only a few weeks back.”

I reached over boldly and plucked the condom from his fingers. “I want to feel you without a barrier between us.” I threw the condom aside, not really caring where it landed. I wanted nothing between us. I wanted to feel when Simon came inside me—I needed to feel that.

Simon rolled back over, landing flush against my side. “We’ll go slow, baby. Anything you don’t like, just say stop.” His large hand rested over my heart, and I was sure he could feel my rabbiting heartbeat.

“I promise, Simon.”

Okay, I was pretty sure Simon was trying to kill me. Each kiss and nibble made my skin flushed and sensitive. His touches caused me to arch and moan—and he’d barely started. My nipples felt on fire. Simon had kissed and sucked on them until I’d come, and then, with a smug grin, he’d moved lower, kissing my stomach and hips and licking away the traces of my orgasm.

My hips arched the moment I felt his mouth surround my cock. “I don’t know if I can come again, Simon,” I warned, but I was answered with a soft chuckle.

“Baby, you’re young and healthy, and I can guarantee I’ll be able to pull a few more out of you before the night’s done.”

Yep, it was official. My man was trying to kill me.

I heard the snick of the lube and then there was cool gel between my cheeks. Like in the bath, I felt his finger push gently at my arsehole, but this time his finger slid deeper. I wanted to arch up into the warm, wet embrace of his mouth, but at the same time rock against the finger that was slowly thrusting inside me.

Every gasp or buck of my hips had Simon adjusting either his mouth or finger. I wasn’t sure how he could do such vastly different things to my body at the same time, and be so damn good at both. As he pulled his finger out of my arse, I thought I was finally going to get a break, long enough that I might be able to form a coherent sentence to adequately describe how good I was feeling. But I only had time to gasp in a breath before two fingers were pushing inside me, creating a delicious burn. It didn’t hurt, but the ache was enough to remind me there were two fingers in my arse, stretching me and grazing my prostate. The touches were always brief and soft—enough to drive me insane but not enough to help me find release. As he scissored his fingers in my arse, sending another wave of pleasure-pain up my spine, my cock hit the back of his throat.

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