Page 53 of For Her Own Good

I’ve never thought of myself as shy in bed. Hell, a guy I dated broke up with me because he said I was too “aggressive” sexually. I think what he actually meant was he didn’t have a clue how to get a woman off and wasn’t open to suggestions, but whatever.

My point is I’m not a nervous, wide-eyed, inexperienced, or prudish woman. But playing this way feels so good, and even better when Lowry slips a hand over my knee, because I haven’t moved fast enough for his liking, and pulls, drawing my leg out and exposing my very core.

“There now, that’s not so bad, is it?”

I roll my lips between my teeth and shake my head, even though I’ve never felt so naked in my life, like I’m naked in front of a room full of people.

He slips his hand down the inside of my thigh and something inside me pulls tight. My interior muscles are almost fluttering with need, craving something to hold onto, something to clamp down on. I feel empty and I want to be full. Which is what I say to Lowry, who is taking his sweet time tracing blue veins toward the apex of my thighs.

“Daddy, please. I need you. Please touch me, I want you to—”

In a single smooth movement, Lowry parts my labia and runs a finger over my clit before delving farther back and gathering moisture from where it’s pooled at my entrance, only to slick his fingers back up to my clit and start making leisurely circles, barely touching that wildly sensitive bundle of nerves. Oh, I’m dead, dead, dead, dead. I am going to die here in my apartment from sexual frustration and that will be difficult for him to explain, indeed.

“Like that, love?”

“Oh, no. Daddy, please.”

“Tell me how. I’ll think about you tucked in your bed at night and spreading your legs while you think about me, touching yourself. Tell me how you’d do it, Star.”

“Smaller circles, tighter. Don’t even lift your finger. Just rub it around, make my… Oh yes. Like that.”

Wanton, that’s how I feel as he touches me the way I told him I do when I think of him at night. I won’t tell him I’ve done this for years. Like, a person old enough to vote’s worth of years. Maybe he knows anyway?

As I’m panting and heaving and trying to hold off, he leans down to whisper in my ear, and I think he’s going to tell me to go on, come for him, and I likely could. Instead, he says, “I want to fuck your sweet little pussy with my finger. Maybe two or three. Would you like that, sweetheart? My fingers pumping in and out of your cunt until you come all over my hand?”

What a dirty talker. I had no idea he was capable of such things. Which is probably a good thing because I would’ve left a wet spot every time I saw him in his office if I’d known.

“Yes, Daddy. Fuck me, please. I want your fingers in me.”

He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t wait for any more begging, but slides his fingers back until he can press one into my entrance. Almost immediately, I know it’s not enough. Better than nothing, yes, because god, I love penetration, but there’s not nearly enough. I get the urge to dispense with this game altogether so we could go straight to the fucking part, but I won’t do that. Especially since he’s curled his finger just right and is rubbing the tip against my inner wall, searching for my G-spot, and heaven above, finding it.

“Oh.”

One corner of his mouth kicks up and he looks very pleased with himself.

“Do you want more, sweetheart? We’ve got all night and I’m in no rush. I want to make sure you’re good and ready for me. I’m going to use my fingers to stretch out your pretty pink pussy before you take my cock. And you’re going come for me before I fuck you because I want you all slick and ready. So, tell me, can you take another finger? Is there room for it in your sweet, hot cunt?”

“Yes, Daddy, please. More, I want more.”

“What a greedy little thing. Don’t worry, Daddy’s going to take care of you. I’m going to make you feel so full.”

“Yes, please. Fill me up, please.”

He drops a kiss on the tip of my nose, which ought to be at odds with the filthy way he’s plunging a finger in and out of me, but it feels right, the mingling of sweet and filthy, of tender and dirty. And then there’s a second finger sliding into me alongside the first and it feels so good, so very very good. He’s still stroking my G-spot but moving a little faster, more aggressively now, and I want to beg him to get this over with and fuck me.

Lowry fucks me for a few minutes like this, my hips bucking up to meet each thrust of his fingers, and if I angle my pelvis just right, I can rub my clit on the heel of his hand. I’m close, so close. My orgasm is gathering like a storm in my belly and my body tenses all over. At which point he slips a third finger inside me and pumps into me, harder now.

“That’s right, little girl. Take it all. I love finger-fucking you, your sweet honey getting all over my fingers. After you get off, I’m going to push these fingers into your mouth so you can see what you taste like. Come on. Rock your hips, take me all the way inside like the greedy little thing you are. Get your pussy ready to take my cock.”

Apparently that’s what it takes to get me off: some enthusiastic finger-banging and a bunch of wicked daddy kink dirty talk.

I clench around his fingers and he keeps thrusting through the rhythmic pulses of my climax until they slow and then he does as well. Plus, he’s holding me like I need to be eased through this incredible orgasm. Like it’s too much for me to take. I’d be okay if he weren’t sheltering me in this way, but I like that he is, and I take the opportunity to burrow into his shoulder and let my fingers scramble for purchase they won’t find because there’s no place for them to dig in without hurting him and I don’t want to hurt him. What I do want is to taste him, have his faintly sweat-salty tang on my tongue, so I lick and suck at his skin. It’s nice, settling after I have been so thoroughly unsettled.

My heart is still beating hard and fast and Lowry’s fingers are still buried inside me. I like them there, but I’m also curious. He said he was going to put his fingers in my mouth and I’ve never done that before. I have an idea of what my arousal smells like, but not tastes. Will it be as consistent as onions which smell and taste so much the same it’s almost difficult to determine how you’re experiencing it? Or will it be like vanilla with one sort of scent and a dissonant taste that rattles your brain?

I think I’m about to find out, because Lowry is finally easing his fingers out of me, after I’ve milked every last pulse out of coming.

He nudges the top of my head with his nose. “You’re so gorgeous when you come, Star. I loved watching you and knowing I’d had a part in it. And you’re so wet for me now. I’ll give you a minute, but now that I’ve had my fingers stuffed inside you, I can’t wait to slip my cock into your perfect little pussy. Before I do, though, I told you you’re going to taste yourself. Don’t hide your face, little girl. Let me see you, and open wide.”

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