Page 115 of Morally Gray Daddies

I complied and climbed up onto the covers, pushing into a pair of pillows that lay against the headboard. As I turned to face him, he began undressing.

Aside from watching him remove his sport coat and fish his cock out from his pants back at Sonja’s, I hadn’t seen any other part of his body. I did now. He was a big man, broad-chested, arms and legs corded with muscle. At Sonja’s I’d thought he looked like one of the football players I’d tutored in college, and though that impression was reinforced now, there were other things about him I was sure none of those college boys had ever had. A scar crossing the ripples of his abdomen. Another dimple on his chest that… I’d nothing but a guess to go off, but I was pretty sure that was what a gunshot wound would leave behind. One leg also had a similar pale mark, and the combined total spoke of not the manufactured strength of a football player but of a man who’d spent a lifetime working to create the presence of authority he did.

Once he’d finished undressing, he wordlessly followed me up onto the bed. I gasped as he pushed between my legs, spreading them open as he captured me underneath him. He caged me within his arms, the mass of his body pressing down against mine as we sank into the mattress. The heat coming off him was both comforting and alluring, an enticing portent of what was about to come.

Lifting one hand, he gripped my chin firmly, staring down into my eyes. “You’re a very beautiful young woman, Aubrey. Did you know that?”

I didn’t want to tremble, but I couldn’t stop it. “I don’t think of myself that way.”

“And that’s part of what makes you so desirable. Humility is a hallmark of submission.”

“Submission,” I repeated softly.

“Yes.” His gaze captured me with an intensity I couldn’t break free of.

“I…”

“Aubrey. You submitted to me. You’re doing it right now. And there’s nothing—nothing—wrong with that. In fact, it’s a gift far more valuable than you can imagine.”

A gift. Why did those two simple words send a shiver arcing through me?

If he noticed my trembling he didn’t give any sign of it. What he did do, however, was shift back and spread me open to display my pussy. I could feel how wet I’d become, and as he stared down at the apex of my legs there was zero chance he didn’t notice. I waited in anticipation, expecting him to place his cock at my entrance and enter me.

Instead, he shoved me forward up against the flimsy backboard of the bed, dropping until his head was between my legs.

“Wha… what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed his tongue up to part my labia, finding my clit immediately. No awkward fumbling around or slobbering all over my pussy like the fuckboys and lovers of my past. In no uncertain terms, he knew exactly where my bud was.

“Oh, shit,” I gasped. “Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit!”

As he worked his tongue over my clit, wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through me. A distant part of me wanted to fight against it, because… what he’d done earlier in the day should’ve made me loathe him. Right now, rather than lying here giving in to the ecstasy he was creating, I should’ve been clawing myself away from him. I had no idea who he was other than the tiny fragments he’d fed me. I didn’t even know his name. And yet, in that moment… I wasn’t losing control; I’d already lost it. None of what was happening was what I’d expected, but—oh, god!—did it feel good. I wanted to scream at myself for giving in, but instead I simply fell into it.

As he continued, I tried to convince myself he was going to stop focusing on me at some point and simply satisfy himself. This was just his way of controlling the narrative, a powerplay of dominance over my submission, as he’d put it. Eventually, he’d tire of giving me pleasure and rise to take his own. Put his cock inside and fuck me until he was satiated. The thought of that should’ve sent me into a tailspin of despair. Instead, I almost craved it.

Goddamn, Aubrey! What are you thinking?

That it felt good. That was what I was thinking. That despite everything he’d done to me today, right now he was focused on making me feel good. And I liked that. I wanted that. I wanted the feeling of attention he was paying me. The edge of my vision swam as a carnal need tore through me, and I couldn’t stop my body from twisting as I rode that thin line separating pleasure from pain. His fingers dug into my hips, pressing me down, and my mind cleared of everything but his tongue and my pussy. My world collapsed to those two things, and the sensation was overwhelming in a way I’d never experienced before.

“Fuck!” I put my hand on his head, trying to choke back my moans and failing miserably. “Please stop, please stop, oh fuck, fuck, fuck!”

His tongue continued to pleasure me and the room, this house, the drive here, everything that had happened back at Sonja’s—all of it became a jumbled blur until it was only my body and him. He pursued me with his tongue, finding pleasure and tearing it out of me. I arched upward, my hips twisting because this wasn’t merely foreplay any longer, this was him giving. He’d taken me ten hours ago, and now… now he was providing ecstasy in a way that twisted my body with need.

A gift.

I didn’t know why I thought of those two words in the final seconds. And then it didn’t matter because it was too late. The world went white behind my eyelids as I shattered. I cried out my orgasm, and when I regained a sense of where I was, I had collapsed onto the mattress, a mewling, gasping, ruined mess.

I tried to shift, to regain some semblance of control over myself, but he kept me trapped with his hands, peppering my mons and inner thighs with nips and kisses. Each one was an electrical jolt that sent my nerves into quivering overload so that eventually I gave up and gave in. My complete submission seemed to be the goal he was looking for, because shortly after he rose up and caged me once again within his arms, gazing down into my face with an unmistakable look of satisfaction.

“Now I’m going to fuck you,” he growled softly. “I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to let me, because you want me to, don’t you? You’re going to be a good girl and take my cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” I whispered.

Jesus Christ…

He shifted, his erection brushing against my inner thigh until it came to a stop poised above my labia. The touch was an arc of electricity, a flashback to the previous time I’d had sex this way, but the anticipation this time was far more powerful than then. He’d made me come, and now…

Now I wanted him inside me. I wanted to make him come.