Page 44 of Daddy's Princess

My legs open for him, and I moan into his kiss as his hard length slowly slides inside me one inch at a time. Oliver’s movements are slow and measured. Each time he fully buries himself in my tight pussy, he grinds against my clit, rekindling the fire. He never picks up the pace, never moves harder, but it doesn’t matter, my orgasm is building into something big and scary. My body is trembling under Oliver’s as I try to ward off the cataclysmic release that I can feel on the horizon.

“Let go, babygirl. Come all over my cock. Give it to me.”

I couldn’t ignore his command even if I tried. My core clenches around his hard length as my body lights up from the inside out. The orgasm that floods through my every nerve ending is so powerful that I can do nothing but throw my head back and try not to drown. Oliver’s telling me what a good girl I am, that my pussy is so fucking tight, that I make him feel so good, then he’s filling me with his own release.

We both groan as his still-hard cock slips from my pussy. He rolls off me, then pulls me into his arms. I don’t have the strength nor desire to move, so it works just fine for me.

“I could get spoiled with wake-up calls like that,” I say into the quiet of the room.

Oliver chuckles. “Definitely the best way to start the day, but now we’ve got to get ready, or we’ll be late.”

I groan and grip him tighter. “Do we have to?”

He playfully slaps my ass. “Yep, time to shower.”

Oliver gets out of bed with way more energy than I can muster up. Heck, I can hardly feel my legs after the orgasms. He laughs when I tell him as much, then picks me up and carries me to the shower.

Despite our best efforts—okay, we really didn’t try—we stayed in the shower a lot longer than we should have. It started out innocent enough. Oliver washed and conditioned my hair. Then he washed my body, teasing me with his touches. So, of course, I had to return the favor. Oliver was the one to break. I didn’t even make it to his interesting bits before he had me lifted by the ass and pinned to the shower wall.

He fucked me hard and fast until we were both sated and panting. It’s not until we are both wrapped in towels that I realize my mistake. I don’t have anything to wear, and if I take the time to go across town to my apartment, I’ll be late for the office.

I’m trying not to panic when Oliver presses a kiss to my bare shoulder. “What’s wrong, babygirl?”

“I’m just thinking about how embarrassing it will be to do a real for real walk of shame, the work edition.”

“And why would you have to do a walk of shame?”

“I didn’t plan on sleeping over. The only thing I have to wear is the same dress I wore yesterday.” I chew my lip, noticing the heat in Oliver’s eyes when he zones in on the motion. “Maybe I could wear one of your dress shirts over it…” I trail off while I try to figure out some way to change up my outfit. Why did I have to wear a dress yesterday? I could easily work with a skirt and one of Oliver’s shirts, but noooo, I had to wear the dress that hugged my curves and made me feel sexy.

“Or, you could wear this.” I turn to where Oliver is coming out of his closet, I hadn’t even realized he’d left the room. In his hands are a bright red pencil skirt and a black blouse. Dangling from his fingertips, a pair of black flats with tiny red polka dots.

He hands the outfit to me, and I immediately realize everything is perfectly my size. “How?”

Oliver smirks. “I went shopping after work. I had a feeling you might stubbornly refuse to bring an overnight bag. You seemed determined not to have sleepovers, but I wanted to be prepared. Just in case.”

“A regular boy scout,” I tease. “Thank you, these are great.”

It’s crazy how comfortably we move through our morning routines together. We brush our teeth side-by-side, after watching me blow dry my hair for a minute, he takes over the task. Running the brush through my hair and directing the heat from root to tip just like I was doing. Between the warmth of the dryer and the steady brushing of my hair, I’m in a sort of relaxed trance by the time declares me done, and my hair hangs in a glossy brown curtain.

“Mmm, thank you, daddy.” I raise up on tiptoe, so I can kiss his lips.

“My pleasure, babygirl.”

After that, we both get dressed. As Oliver’s tying his tie, he watches me swipe some gloss on my lips. Thankfully, I carry a little makeup in my bag, not that I wear a lot on a day-to-day basis, but I do a little eyeshadow, mascara, and lip gloss.

Oliver stalks across the room toward me. I can see him in the mirror’s reflection. His attention is fully on my newly painted lips. Even though I expect it, I gasp when he turns me to face him, crushing me to his body.

“I want to lick that shiny gloss off your lips.”

I could argue that I just put it on. That we don’t have time. That we are already running late to work after our extra-long shower. I do none of that. Instead, I tip my head back and give him permission to take my lips.

As kisses go, this kiss is probably the best of the best. Oliver does precisely what he claimed to want to do. First, his tongue sweeps over my lips as he tastes the slightly sweet gloss, then his tongue delves between my lips. He licks and kisses and sucks every bit of gloss from my lips. When he finally pulls away, my lips are shiny and pink, but not from any lip gloss.

He looks smug as I take in my kiss-swollen lips. Between looking like I’ve been kissed half to death and the pink flush of arousal on my cheeks, I look like I’ve spent the morning having dirty sex. Which isn’t far from the truth.

We barely make it into the office on time.

The morning passes in a blur. Nadine has a dozen menial tasks for me, I barely have time for a bathroom break. She’s in fine form today. Meaning, she’s in a foul mood, and since I’m her least favorite intern, I get the brunt of her snarling. I can’t find it in myself to be bothered by it, though, which I think makes her even grumpier because I smile through my tasks.

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