Page 74 of Use Me, Daddy

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words died in my throat as his fingers brushed against my skin, feather-light and exasperatingly slow. He started at my collarbone, tracing a path down to my sternum, then over the swell of my breasts. Histouch was barely there, like he was teasing the air just above my skin, and it made me arch involuntarily, straining for more.

“Patience,” he teased, his lips curving into a wicked smile as he watched me squirm. “I’m going to take my time with you however I please.”

His fingers trailed lower, down the line of my ribs, then over the soft curve of my stomach. I bit my lip, trying to hold back the whimper threatening to escape. The way he touched me wasn’t rushed or demanding. It was deliberate, calculated, like he was savoring every inch of my body.

“Such soft skin,” he said in a low rumble that sent a thrill straight through me. “You’re so sensitive, aren’t you, baby girl? Every little touch drives you mad.”

I hated how right he was, hated the way my body betrayed me under his touch. My breaths came faster, my chest rising and falling as his fingers brushed over the inside of my thigh, slow and torturous. I clenched my fists, my frustration building with every teasing stroke.

“Please,” I whispered, the word slipping out before I could stop it.

His hand stilled, his eyes snapping up to meet mine.

“What was that?” he asked, his tone deceptively soft.

Heat rose in my cheeks as I tried to look away. “I said… please,” I admitted, my voice trembling.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing my ear. “But not yet. I want you begging properly before I give you what you want.”

His fingers continued their slow, agonizing exploration, tracing patterns on my thighs, my stomach, my hips. Every touch sent sparks racing across my skin, building the tension inside me until I felt like I was going to snap.

But despite the rising need within me, my body held strong.

The moment his thumb brushed over my left nipple, a soft gasp escaped me. He smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of my neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against my skin.

I bit back a moan, squirming under his touch as his fingers pinched together and then he did the same on the right side. A sharp sting flared up, followed by the warm glow of pleasure that washed over me. I cried out, arching into him, my eyes squeezing shut as the sensation overwhelmed me.

When he finally released me, his fingers brushed over the sensitive peaks of my nipples, his touch sending a rush of heat through me. He smiled, his eyes dark and hungry as he watched me, my chest heaving, my skin flushed.

“Tell me, baby girl. Did you think I wouldn’t listen to you?” he asked, his voice low and measured.

I hesitated, the truth of his words sinking in.

Did I really think he wouldn’t hear me out?

Or did I just not care because I wanted to do it on my own?

Before I could respond, he moved, his palms brushing over my breasts, the touch gentle and deliberate, before he gripped my nipples between his fingertips and twisted them hard. I cried out, the pain searing through me until I closed my eyes and arched my back off the bed.

“Answer me,little girl.”

“Yes,” I gasped, the admission spilling from me before I could stop it. “Yes, I did.”

He gave another twist, the sensation shooting straight to my core.

“Bad girl,” he murmured.

I bucked against him, the ropes biting into my skin.

Another twist, another cry.

Then, almost mercifully, he released my nipples, only a second wave of pain followed that caught me off guard and I moaned at the feeling of it.

He reached over to the side drawer in the nightstand beside the bed and opened it. I turned my head, watching as he reached into it and pulled out a handful of small trinkets. When he held one up, I recognized it immediately.

It was a set of nipple clamps, and he didn’t have just a single pair.

He had three of them.

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