Page 64 of Naughty Santa Daddy

“How about I make you a deal. You can ask questions as long as my dick is inside you.” I squint my eyes at his obnoxious response. He’s such an asshole. A sexy asshole… but still an asshole.

“Do women really fall for that?”

“Is that another question?” He watches me in the mirror, waiting for my answer. I contemplate whoring myself out for information when I had already planned on having sex with him. The chemistry is definitely there if I can get out of my head long enough to be focused on the present.

“Yes.” I hold my head high, accepting his bullshit deal.

He slides his arm in front of me, his fingers moving to my clit to rub circles and awaken my entire body once again. It doesn’t take much since I’m already worked up from before.

“You have until I make you orgasm.” He dips his hand further between my legs, two fingers sliding inside of me. We both stare at our reflections in the mirror, moving between staring into each other’s eyes and the movement of him finger-fucking me.

I’m waiting until he’s inside me to ask a question, knowing if I tried to ask earlier, he would renege on the deal. When I’m close to soaring over the edge, I push his hand away. Luckily, he moves to stroking his cock while we continue to watch each other. The moment is raw and pure, empowering me to be brave.

Sliding my hand down between my legs, I match his show of boldness and tease him just as he is teasing me. I know this is counterproductive to me getting the information I need, but I do it anyway. I can’t have him thinking he holds all the power.

I’m about ten seconds into my show when he whips me around again, sliding me down onto his cock without warning. I’m making noises somewhere between gasps and moans, trying to get myself together enough to form a fucking sentence.

“How…” He fucks me faster and deeper. So deep that I gasp again. He repositions me in his palms so that he can lift and lower me with ease.

I’m about to continue my question when he slams into me even harder, hitting me in that oh-so-perfect spot that makes everything else unimportant.

“Fu…ck.” Hearing him stuttering too makes me proud in the moment, and for the first time tonight, I’m not thinking of anything other than this man’s cock deep inside of me.

He fucks me hard.

Raw.

Fast.

And deep.

So damn good.

I am literally hanging onto his shoulders for dear life while he relentlessly fucks the care right out of me. I don’t get any questions out before we’re both moaning through an orgasm at the same time. The release of tension is unmatched and exactly what I needed to sleep through the night.

Both of us are breathing heavily when he walks me to the bed and sets me down. He tosses me a towel from the dresser before he walks into the bathroom and closes the door.

I wait until I hear the water running before I rush around the room to find my clothes. The smell of diner food on them makes me almost gag, but I put them on quickly, knowing I don’t have much time before he will be done.

Massimo is hiding something big, and I can’t stay here and wait like a dumb damsel who can’t take care of herself. I have to protect myself, and I can’t do that here.

His pants are piled near mine, so it’s easy to find his keys. Luckily, I paid attention to how he closed the garage door, so it’s only a few seconds before I’m hopping on one foot, trying to put my shoes on while I skim by his ridiculously expensive cars, just so I can steal his blacked-out SUV.

I squeal the tires when I back out in a hurry. He’ll be pissed… but I don’t care. I’m pissed that he keeps playing games when it involvesmylife.

Chapter 4

India R. Adams

India R. Adams

Massimo

I do my best to let the pain of the hot shower water burn the fresh claw marks down my chest and back because they are the reminder I need. How dare I let myself lose control. Hadley isn’t a conquest. She is the means to me being even more powerful.

Doesn’t that still matter?I, condescendingly, ask myself, due to my dick not comprehending the mission.

An uncomfortable ping in my gut, stinging way worse than the scalding hot water against marked skin, speaks the truth: the waitress is getting to me.

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