Page 12 of Her Royal Daddy
“You won’t kiss a girl if she’s not sober, but you’ll spank her?”
“If you’d continued to push for one, you bet I would. It’s all part of the Daddy service.” His smile grew, and so did that low throb of arousal between my legs. “It’s also not too late, if you’re curious.”
“For which, the spanking or the kiss?” I thought I was being so clever. I was completely unprepared for what his grin and wink did to the pulse already thumping its heady beat in my lady bits.
“Either,” he shot back. “You know where my door is.”
He knew exactly what he was doing to me when he went back into his room, leaving me standing outside, every bit as achy as I had been on the plane only now without the alcohol to blame it on. Only now my bottom was tingling, too, as if that aspect of me wouldn’t at all mind getting spanked by him. Which was crazy.
I was crazy.
I went back inside, not just because it was cold and dark and far too quiet when I was by myself, but because if he came back out and saw me standing frozen where he’d left me, then he’d know exactly what he’d just done to me, and I didn’t think I could bear to live that down.
All of which was Old Norah thinking. Old Norah, who had stayed with Brian long after the magic had died and the verbal abuse settled in, because having that Daddy figure in her life—even one as horrible as he was and who used her fantasy needs against her—was better than no one at all. Old Norah, who had stayed in a job that marginalized her, writing bullshit articles that she wasn’t at all proud of in the hopes that someday someone would recognize that she was worth better than that.
Standing in the middle of my palace apartment, in a country so remote than they didn’t even teach its existence in geography class, I suddenly got mad. Fuck Old Norah. Who cared what Old Norah thought; what would New Norah do?
New Norah, who was just waiting for me to rewrite her any way I wanted to. New Norah who within a week of my concocting her had already got me out of the United States in a new job working for royalty, for God’s sake. This was an adventure, and why the hell shouldn’t I take it to the next level and create a memory I could pull out and enjoy later on in life? I was a grown woman, who was attracted to a man, who was also attracted to me, and why shouldn’t I go ahead and blow it up into a full-fledged vacation one-night stand?
So what if I’d never done anything like this before? So what if I could count my sexual partners on one hand and, when this was all over, I’d still be able to. Daddy had beckoned; I desperately wanted to respond. So, on watery legs already trembling with excitement, I went to the bathroom to freshen up and then quickly made my way next door.
I was standing in front of it, wondering if I should knock or just walk in, when Mazi took the choice out of my hands and simply opened the door. He stepped out, looking up and down the corridor as if we were naughty teenagers and he expected Jax to pop out of the shadows with a censuring frown and a ready lecture. I don’t know if he shared my mental image, but we both laughed when he hustled me inside and quickly shut the door.
Both our laughter faltered and then died, and for a moment we both looked at each other. The silence grew awkward. My heart was beating so hard and fast. The thundering pound of it battered inside my chest. The echoes of it were deafening in my ears, but more than that was the strength of the pulses I could feel down deep inside me. In the tips of my nipples, as I backed up slowly until I bumped up against the door he’d just closed. In the furling, fluid heat moving molten down from womb to pussy until I could feel the liquid proof of my arousal tickling through the folds of my sex and soaking into the crotch of my panties, especially when he followed me, reaching out to brace his strong hands against the door to either side of my head. He was careful to keep plenty of room between us; I could have got away at any time if I’d wanted to.
I just didn’t want to.
“I’d offer you a drink,” he said, breaking the silence. “But that’s kind of what got us into trouble on the plane.”
I rolled my lips, but not fast enough to stop the snort of laughter he’d won from me.
“I was gifted a fruit basket,” he continued, grinning now himself. “I could offer you a piece of fruit.”
Shaking my head, I laughed. “I didn’t come over here for a piece of fruit.”
No, I came for him. For nookie. Because I was helpless not to.
“I’ll put some music on,” he offered, already pushing away from the door.
New Norah was a daring woman with a scarily brilliant sense of humor.
“If that’s what you need to get comfortable taking your clothes off,” New Norah called after him, stopping us both in our tracks, because that was my mouth she was using!
He turned back around and I flattened back up against his door, my eyes wide, my heart fairly dancing, a hot gush of wetness flooding my pussy as he braced his hands against the wood to either side of my head and leaned into me once more. His smile was intoxicating. His eyes were laughing. His voice could have dropped panties at a devout virgins’ convention, certainly it could have dropped mine if only he hadn’t leaned in so close now that I couldn’t get away. Not even if I’d wanted to.
“I see you’ve got your heart set on that spanking after all,” he mused, making himself comfortable against both the door and me. When I breathed, the tips of my breasts brushed against his chest. He could have kissed me if he’d wanted to. The sexual tension was unbearable, and his commanding yet playful tone sent shivers down my spine when he asked, “Does Daddy’s little girl want him to strip for her?”
My knees almost buckled, sagging me against the door before I caught myself. My breath caught too. I couldn’t stop looking at his smiling lips.
“Does Daddy’s little girl need a hard cock to play with?”
I loved it when he called himself Daddy. I loved even more than he called me little, and implied that he was mine. My nipples swelled at the thought, aching for him to touch me with more than just his voice.
“Be a good girl,” he coaxed me, making my heart pound and my thighs quiver. “Ask Daddy for what you want. Use your words, baby, if you want to play.”
I think I orgasmed just a little at the thought of having to say any of what I right now wanted out loud, or of calling him Daddy while I was stone-cold sober, or of revealing how thoroughly I was enjoying it each and every time he referred to himself that way, or called me his little girl and baby.
“Please,” I whispered.
