Page 89 of Cook

“Always,” I answered.

“Then I’ll take it all. All your pain. All the memories. They’re mine. You will give them to me when they threaten you, or I will punish you.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“But tonight, you’re giving me all your pleasure.” He left my side and crouched between my spread legs. Dipping low, he flattened his tongue over my pussy, licking from the dildo up to my clit, where he lingered. A shiver ran up my body, and my knees trembled.

I started to moan and twist in the restraints as the sensations built again. This time, he didn’t spank me. He let me writhe. It did little good, because being stretched to four points didn’t allow room for me to get away.

He sealed his mouth over my clit and sucked, his tongue on the lower side, stroking, caressing, kissing. His hand found the glass in my pussy and started to fuck me with it. Harder than I’d fucked myself, but better too. Every few strokes, he rotated it like I had.

“Oh God,” I called out as uncontrollable sensations danced up my spine.

Cook sucked harder. Fucked harder.

In and out while pulling my clit into his mouth. Over and overagain, he kept pushing me higher. Erasing the bad shit. Making me forget. Grounding me in this room with him, and him alone. He hummed, sending a rumble through my entire body and I combusted into a thousand pieces of light, shooting off into the night.

Someone screamed.

Me.

My very first scream driven from my lungs in pleasure.

White-hot ecstasy ripped through my body, making my arms and legs shake and the straps tremble against the posts.

I fought against the arm restraints to reach for him, desperate to touch him. Hold him. Look deep in his eyes. I was scared that if I didn’t see him, I would forget he was real. That it would be someone else on my body. One of the faceless men. Clients, Signora called them, standing over me with a knife and a glinting smile.

Cook removed the dildo and let it drop onto the mattress at my side. He hovered over me and I forced my gaze to meet the depths of his chocolate eyes. He burrowed his gaze into me, like he was measuring my responses. Then, he claimed my mouth, tongue-fucking me there too.

Too soon, he broke the kiss. “Taste that sweetness?”

I licked my lips, letting my salt and musk wash over my tongue.

Clearly seeing something he liked, he left me again, and I grunted a complaint.

Daddy adjusted the straps, raising my legs higher and loosening the arm straps, then he grabbed a wedge-shaped block or pad or...?

Returning to the foot of the bed, he shoved it under my hips, canting my pussy up to the exact height of his waist. He bent over. Placing his hands on the footboard between the posts and thrust his face back into my pussy.

My back arched with the sensation, my head kicking backward.

But that wasn’t going to work. I needed to see him. To know who was devouring me.

His eyes never left mine, and his beard tickled my thighs. He moved his talented tongue faster. Harder. I jerked. My hips rose. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled across my body.

“Give it to me, Maddie.” His mouth descended on me again.

“Fuuuuuck,” I moaned, the sound slipping out of my mouth. Breathless wheezes burst from my lips.

As though he knew how much I liked it, he picked up his pace on my clit. Another flash of pleasure rocketed through me.

I blinked, and Tommy G. was standing over me, touching me. My eyes wouldn’t open, but my head tossed from side to side. Why did I have to see him now? This wasn’t then. It was now. This was Cook. My daddy.

Cook.

Not Tommy G.

I wanted my daddy. This. I forced my eyes open, watching him, but then he dragged me back under another wave of pleasure. I was so close—the fire doused when I blinked and Tommy G. hung over me, his hot breath licking my skin.

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