Page 15 of Her Royal Daddy
She writhed beneath me, her hips trying hard to match my movements in a way that would have had me sliding into her if only my underwear were off. She knew that too. Already her fingers had found the elastic and she was pushing at it, trying to force it out from between us.
“Say it.” I forced myself to go still and uncooperative, but she got her hand inside. She cupped me. Hot as her pussy was, her hand was hotter. My eyes almost closed. I bit down on a moan. I was in so much trouble. My cock had found heaven in her palm. “Say it,” I ordered, so damned husky and low that I hardly recognized my own voice.
“Daddy, I want your cock,” she both pleaded and whimpered, and arching up off the mattress, she locked her lips to mine and stole the most fiercely desperate kiss I think I’ve ever enjoyed.
I have no idea which of us worked my underwear down far enough to be out of the way. I only know that my last coherent thought was how perfect she was for me as I sank down deep inside her. Stretching her open, forcing her eager body to take every inch of me, again and again. I loved her gasps each time I filled her. I loved the needy grip of her fingers, sinking into my ass like claws, pulling me that much deeper inside her. Like she couldn’t get enough of me.
God alone knew, I couldn’t get enough of her either. Couldn’t touch her enough; couldn’t kiss her enough; sure as hell couldn’t get her out of her clothes fast enough. I think I tore at least two buttons off her shirt before I got both it and her bra flung off the bed, baring her soft breasts with their thrusting little nipples to my fingers and tongue. When I touched her, she went wild beneath me. Laughing, I rolled her over, flopping onto my back so she could put all that energy to work.
“Ride Daddy,” I commanded, and she did, hungrily, eagerly. Dressed still in her white stockings and shoes, with her uniform skirt bunched up around her waist, she was absolutely beautiful to behold. I couldn’t stop touching her—her breasts, her hips, that pretty pink little clitty of hers as she rocked her hips over mine, riding my cock with increasing need and aggression. She threw herself backwards with a cry, grabbing my thighs as she bucked and ground upon me, her pussy spasming tight as a fist around my cock. She came hard, but so did I, with her clit trapped between my fingers and my thumb flicking and stroking and working every last shivery orgasm out of her, until at last she wilted.
I held her on top of me, with her head resting on my chest and my cock softening inside her. We were both panting and breathless.
“Had I known it would end like this,” she suddenly mumbled against my chest, “I wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to leave the last time.”
I’d have smacked her sassy bottom, but I was still panting and now laughing too hard to manage it. “I’m glad you enjoyed the show.”
“Daddy?” she asked, two fingers playing on my chest.
“Yeah?”
“I think I want an encore.”
I hid my grin behind a tsk, rolling her over onto her back. “The responsibilities of a Daddy dom are never done,” I said, nowhere near as sad as I sounded, especially not as I spread her legs wide and began a descent of kisses down between them.
I wasn’t Superman. I was going to need a minute, but I also knew—as she wove her fingers into my short hair, guiding my lips and tongue to where she needed their attention the most—it wasn’t going to take much to make me ready again. By the time her gasps dissolved back into moans, her hips started rocking, and her toes curled up tight against the mattress, Daddy’s cock was standing high and hard for her once more.
One Daddy Dancer encore, coming right up.
Chapter Six
Mazi
I startled awake, alone in a strange bed and even stranger bedroom, to the sound of insistent knocking on my door. Jetlagged, it took me a moment to realize where I was or why I was being awakened. It was the wakeup call summoning me to breakfast with my father, the reigning king of Osei.
“I’m up, I’m up!” I yelled, mostly because the room was massive and only yelling would let anyone on the other side of that heavy wooden door hear me. That I sounded as irritated as I did I chalked up to the jetlag. My eyes weren’t ready to be open. My body was convinced it was still midnight, never mind the morning sunlight streaming in through all the windows and the glass balcony doors. Also, Norah was gone.
