Page 113 of Rescued by the Single Dad

She had no idea.

And that was part of the trust. The excitement.

The unknown.

Putting her pleasure in someone else’s hands.

Because she knew that when he finally touched her clit again, it would be like the button to launch an atomic bomb sending her body into a maelstrom.

She wasn’t prepared for his next move, but she welcomed the surprise when he shoved his fingers into her hair. He gripped her scalp, pulling hard enough to create a sting, and she nearly came on the spot. Then he yanked her backward. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to make her move and bend her back and be grateful for all the yoga she did. He took her mouth with a harsh, bruising kiss.

She tasted herself on his tongue and lips. Salty and sweet.

His hold on her hair tightened, and his kiss deepened.

She whimpered against his lips, and her pussy spasmed around his cock as he continued to pump into her with measured thrusts.

“You going to come, Brooke?” he asked, breaking their kiss and growling the words right next to her ear. “You going to come hard for me? Soak my cock.”

Oh, the dirty talk. Where did this come from?

She didn’t really care.

She just wanted more of it.

He pulled a little harder on her hair. “Are you?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

Oh God. He didn’t even need to touch her clit at this point. His words, his roughness, the exquisite hair pulling, it was enough. She was going to detonate, and anything within a ten-mile radius was going to feel the impact.

He obviously didn’t want her explosion to spread out ten miles, though. He wanted it to spread a hundred, because just when she thought she was going to come, he untangled his fingers from her hair and moved his hand below, finding her clit.

“Dear God.” Her words were barely a whisper.

“That’s right.” His pumping rhythm remained unaffected. Her body hummed with the need to climax. Begged for it. “You like this?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re such a good girl, Brooke. Taking my cock so deep. I can’t wait to one day bury it just as deep in your ass. Would you like that?”

“God, yes. Please,” she mewled that last bit, her body desperate. Screaming.

Then he did something no man had ever done before—or at least she couldn’t remember a man doing this before—he took her slippery clit between his thumb and two fingers and instead of pinching, it was almost like he was trying to snap his fingers.

It shouldn’t have made her shatter the way it did, but at this point, he had more control of her body than she did.

The world paused on its axis. She became deaf, and nothing but the thunderous beating of her pulse in her ears registered. Wave after wave rocked through her, from her core to her toes, the top of her head and the tips of her fingers. She gripped the table edge until her knuckles turned white and ached. Her toes curled in her socks on the concrete floor, and her pussy clenched and quivered with each pump from Clint behind her.

She was still caught up in the throes of her release when he stilled, grunted, and the throbbing of his cock inside her brought on a second wave of pleasure. She squeezed him as he found his own orgasm. As he filled her up. As he claimed her.

Because even though it’d only been five days, she was his.

Heart and soul.

He’d rescued her in more ways than she could count.

They returned to earth at the same time and after a moment, he gently pulled out, retreating to a sink in the corner of the big space. A moment later, he returned with a warm, damp paper towel. “Here.” Then he helped clean her up. “There’s a bathroom in the corner there, if you’d prefer.”

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