Page 117 of Challenged by the Single Dad

Not only did she not know about her own praise kink, and sudden obsession with being called a good girl, but she was all over Dom’s hand around her throat and giving it a squeeze. She was absolutely dripping with need for him.

“Please,” she whispered, the thrum of all-consuming carnal desperation making her brain short-circuit. She’d never wanted anything so badly. Never needed or craved to have a man inside her as badly as she craved Dom at that moment.

“Good girl.” He released her throat, put his big, strong hand in the center of her bare back and made her bend at the hips. He kneed her legs apart again, then he gripped his cock, angled it at her drenched center and thrust forward, taking her completely, all the way to the hilt.

“Oh god,” she cried, nearly ready to come just from that final bit of friction, of being full at long last.

“Don’t come yet,” he ordered, holding onto her hip with one hand while bending over her and wedging his hand between her legs with the other. He began to rub little circles over her clit, and thank god for that arm around her, because if he wasn’t holding her up, she’d have crumpled to the ground. Her whole body shook with each plunge of his cock, and rub of his fingers. She was a maelstrom of sensations, and yet, he knew exactly what to do tonotlet her come. He kept her riding that edge. Teetering like she was drunk and about to tumble face-first off a skyscraper.

To be honest, she was kind of drunk.

Drunk on lust.

On pregnancy hormones that made everything in her body a hundred times more sensitive, and her libido a hundred times stronger. She’d felt all of these things before today, but dismissed them. Now, she was embracing them. If she was going to be pregnant, even if it didn’t go to term, she was going to take the good with the bad. The insatiable sex drive with the morning sickness. The glossy hair, with the cramps and bloating.

Pressing her cheek to the cool counter, she let her aching breasts hang heavy beneath her, swaying with every drive of Dom’s hips, the familiarslap-slapof flesh on flesh the only sound in the house, save for his grunts, and her moans.

It was a melody of their own making, and if she wasn’t so caught up with how good everything felt and how badly she wanted to come, she’d be inclined to start humming to the tune.

“You ready to come for me, Chloe?” he asked, his voice raw grit and pure sex behind her. “You ready to soak my cock?”

“Oh god … I’m so close.”

“You want me to pinch your swollen clit?”

Did she? Nobody had ever pinched her clit.

“Yes?”

“Is that a question?”

He was still rubbing his fingers over her pulsing clit hood, and she could tell it was swollen, more sensitive than ever. Even if he did pinch it, she’d probably still explode. “Yes, pinch it. Pinch it, please!”

His lips pressed against her shoulder in the gentlest of kisses, then he pinched her clit, drove home hard and she fell face-first off the cliff.

Only, she didn’t fall.

She flew.

The throbbing, the pulsing, the crashing of wave after wave of absolute perfection, rippling through her body from her core outward was more than she could bare, and a sob escaped her lips as she gripped the edge of the counter and let the climax ransack her soul.

A low, guttural grunt behind her a moment later, and Dom pausing with his cock as deep as it could go, signified that he found his own release. She squeezed her muscles around him as he pulsed inside of her, filled her up, claimed her.

When her orgasm began to wane and her muscles relaxed, that’s when the aftershocks came and she began to tremble. Her legs were nothing more than Jell-O on bone and she could barely stand up. Even her hands quivered as she stood up and spun around to face him.

He must have recognized how utterly shredded she was, because he quickly scooped her up in his arms, gathered her clothes, and carried her upstairs. “You okay?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

She nodded. “Th-that was intense.”

Lying her down on the bed, he grabbed the chenille throw draped over one corner and pulled it over her. “You sure you’re okay?”

Glancing up at him, suddenly exhausted, she smiled a stupid, sleepy smile. “You’re a Dom.”

His brows bunched. “IamDom.”

“No, you’re likeaDom. Like a dominant. You’re a top.”

Dismissively, he shook his head. “No. I don’t do that kinky play stuff.”

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