Page 55 of Paddy

Once her petal started to show, I fully dove in her folds, using my entire tongue this time to lap at her clit. A gloved hand went straight to the back of my head, bracing herself for the rhythm of my slurping.

“Daddy right there. Your sweet girl's gonna come all over that fucking tongue. Eat that naughty little pussy,” she encouraged, panting, breast heaving at the rhythm of my mouth.

Nothing satisfied me more than having a woman who could just say,keep doing that.

You'd be surprised how many women don't talk in bed at all. I was good at pushing buttons, but Pretty definitely took out half the guesswork without forcing myself to ask.

Throatier moans meant something was coming, confirmed by her tightening thighs and stronger grip on my hair.

“Fuck! Get up in that fucking pussy,” she demanded, forcing me to hone in and concentrate on her button as she lifted up both her legs widening further, like she was serving up more of her cunt to me.

“Fuck!” She cried out again, instantly trying to inch away, but me not giving her room to. Pretty knew that when I went down on her and I didn't inch away, that her first climax had been for her, but the next one belonged to me.

Women weren't always prepared for the intensity of immediately attempting a second tremor. But for a man who leaned into his darkness, it always put a woman in that place of mindless submission. That's when her thoughtsreallyturned off.

By now, Pretty wasn’t strong enough to do more than pant or squirm.

A series of broken mmm’s…accompanied shaking legs, and even though it took a minute, that hand was on the back of my head again, making sure I stayed put.

Despite Pretty’s initial pushback, her legs shook through a second climax, as they’d been too weak to stay gripped to the sides of my face. The signature sounds of her not being able to take me anymore was the only thing that made me tear myself away.

Slipping her knickers back in place, I helped slide back down the dress, wiping down my beard, when Pretty surprised me by pulling me in by the collar and stealing a kiss from me.

“When we get home, I am going to suck the life out of you.” Biting her lip through devotedly glassed eyes.

“Tonight, is about you. Nowandlater. I just wanted to ease your nerves.” I leaned into kiss her forehead, easing back into the seat next to her. When we finally arrived at the venue, it had been just like I remembered it to be like in Los Angeles.

Flashing lights. Folks screaming for the talent. People reaching out, hoping to be lucky enough to get an autograph. It was smaller scale given the location, but the impact was all the same.

People paid good money to watch a woman like Pretty play. I kept close, just in case, but it took about a half hour before we were even able to make it inside, given Pretty was taking pictures and speaking with the press.

Sadly, she couldn't give autographs to everyone, but I'm sure the ones that she had managed to get to were grateful.

Once inside, we were directed to a dressing room that gave the starlet privacy before the start of the show. “You're gonna kill it out there. I just know it,” holding Pretty close, staring deep into her eyes.

“I hope you listen well, because the surprise will be in the song,” she beamed.

“Don't tell me you wrote a song for me,” I asked, matching her smile.

“You'll just have to be paying attention to see.” A stagehand knocked on the door, insisting the stage and band was ready for her, as I wished her luck with a kiss and insisted I'd be watching backstage.

When I took my place backstage, her first set started, and I was highly impressed watching her command a crowd so easily. It was a privilege I could evengeta woman like this to submit to me. She truly was a stunning woman.

Effortlessly, she went from one song to the next, truly coming alive on that piano in front of her. I'd have to sit in more often when she rehearsed, when the environment was more relaxed. At the start of the second set, I don't know why, just had a bad feeling as I scooped out the upstage.

Even though it was dark, since I had had a rundown hours prior, it seemed off, like I could sense movement. Most people wouldn’t think to notice things like that, but I did. It was good to be suspicious in my line of work. Always assume something’s coming.

A figure—and it had to be intentional, because they were trying to blend in with the dark—stalked, nearly invisible if you weren’t looking for it, hid in the background, and nothing good could come from that.

It took a moment to realize the subtle movement was someone assembling a gun. Pretty wasn’t safe. This was too public a place and a hit attempt would be perfect, because the commotion would cause the best distraction to leave the scene unnoticed.

Without giving it a second thought, I rushed to the stage, surprising Pretty, but insisting she come with me,now.

“Paddy, I’m in the middle of a—” as before she could finish the sentence, a bullet shot in her direction, causing everyone on stage to scream, scramble or panic, and I took my gun out the holster and shot in the direction upstage.

Emptying the clip, I quickly reloaded, trying to block out the screams from the audience. Managing to nail a hit in the assailant’s thigh, any attempt to flee, they wouldn’t get far, but they likely wouldn’t bleed out either.

I had to choose between whether to follow them or tend to Pretty.

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