Page 92 of Cook

There were too many pulling sensations in all my joints, and I couldn’t focus on locking down against the intrusion. It didn’t matter that others had been there—inside me—before him. In this position, he’d removed my ability to think. All I could do was feel.

He held me against him with one hand and reached up to pinch my nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. A small wave of pain bolted through me mixed with pleasure. He ran his thumb around the edge of my areola before pinching me again.

I no longer needed to see. All this Daddy did to me, and no one had done these specific things before. He made me forget. Gave me exactly what I needed.

“This is your last chance, Maddie,” said Cook.

Lost in everything I felt in my body and soul, I couldn’t answer.

He didn’t warn me again.

His hands gripped onto my hips, digging in as he slid almost all the way out. Then he pulled me forward to meet his thrust. I cried out and he grunted. Then he set a punishing pace, swinging me off his cock and back on. He continued pumping while he moved my body. Back and forth. Over and over.

My ass met his thighs with a slapping sound, punctuated by my squeaks and his grunts. The whole time, his cock massaged my inner walls. So much fuller than I’d been before. Stretched for him. Open to my daddy.

Incoherent words—yesses, ohs, ahs, fucks, gods, all of it—flowed from my lips, but Cook kept pounding me down onto his cock.

My orgasm started to build again, this time deep inside me rather than from my clit. I was helpless to do anything. To move. To fight it. To make it last longer, even though I didn’t want it to end. I never wanted us to be done.

A scream ripped through my throat as I detonated, but Cook didn’t slow down.

Didn’t stop.

If possible, he fucked me harder through the waves racking my body.

I didn’t want him to stop. Or slow. Or be softer.

He moved in and out of me quickly, jackhammering his hips forward.

“Let it out, Maddie,” growled Cook, hitching my hips up further. I didn’t normally bend this way. My back ached further away from the bed as I used the tension of my restraints to bend at an awkward angle. It made him hit me deeper and differently than anyone else who had ever been in my pussy.

I clenched my teeth together. Pleasure and pain blended until I couldn’t tell which was which. I was already sensitive, already floating toward an out-of-body experience. If this was death, I would die in Daddy’s arms a happy woman.

“Now, Maddie,” Daddy growled. “Come on my cock.”

Another orgasm was on me in a second, and I let out a moan.

“Gorgeous.” He didn’t slow or lessen how he fucked me.

I hadn’t come down from that orgasm when I came for a third time with him inside me. Cook plundered me in all the best places—places that I didn’t know existed and now only belonged to him. Like how I only belonged to him.

Before I could breathe again and recover—what the fuck was he doing to me? How could he do this to me?—he pushed me over the edge again.

I was a puddle of flesh when his fingers gripped my thighs harder. I craned my neck to meet his gaze, though his face had doubled, tripled, floated around me. I couldn’t tell what was up and what was down. Who needed to know when he fucked me like this?

With a roar, Cook came inside of me. His whole body jerked forward as his head dropped backward. His cock grew, plunging deeper, as his body locked up. His length twitched as he stood stock still, riding out his own orgasm.

I couldn’t say how long we stayed like that before he eased me off his cock. The full condom hung off his cock, and he walked over to the sink. Water ran.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I mumbled.

Vaguely, I felt a cool cloth pressed against my lower lips. The room was spinning around me, and I had absolutely no control over my body. The restraints loosened, lowering me to the bed. I felt mydress cover my body again and the cool cloth removed. I think I curled onto my side before giving up and embracing the darkened shadows around my vision.

I don’t know how long I drifted or what Cook did while I recovered.

But then, strong arms slipped under my shoulders and knees, cradling me against my Daddy’s chest.

A hand brushed hair away from my face, and a deep, gentle voice asked, “Can you ride, nizhóní?”

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