Page 11 of Her Daddy Valentine

Vaughn thrusts his thumb in and out while his tongue bashes haphazardly across my clit. My grip tightens in his hair as a tremendous moan echoes through his room.

As I come down from the high of an earth-shattering orgasm, Vaughn slithers his way up my body, trailing kisses against my skin until he comes face to face with me. His cheeks, chin, and lips are still glistening with my liquids, and a deep urge compels me to lean forward and lick myself off him. Vaughn groans when my tongue glides over his lips, but before I can get any further, he slots a hand behind my head and pins me there.

“That was to prove how serious I am,” he says, pecking me on the lips. “You’re mine, Claire. All mine. And I don’t like to share.” His cock flexes with his words, and the tip brushes against my pussy.

I groan as the tip settles into place against my entrance as if magnetized in place. Knowing what it wants and where it wants to go.

“All yours, Daddy. No one else’s,” I whimper.

A wicked grin flashes across Vaughn’s face. He pecks me again, a few times in quick succession. “Good girl.” And with those two little words, Vaughn jostles his hips, and his head breaks through my barrier.

He grumbles and groans while it moves deeper, and his face shows the signs of pure bliss from my tightness squeezing tightly around him.

His first push is slow. Giving us both time to adjust to one another’s bodies and the intense sensations they bring. I can’t speak for Vaughn, but for me, it’s being filled to the brim while excruciating pleasure pulses over every single nerve.

I hook my arms around his shoulders as he drives every inch of himself inside of me. Well, that answers my question. He can fit. It’s just very, very tight.

Every subsequent thrust, movement, and sound shows Vaughn’s inability to stay in control over whatever animal is taking control of him. His moans are replaced by savage growls, his hands move to my waist, latching on to steady himself, and his eyes burn with the fiery glow of a man on a mission.

Before I even realize what’s happening, Vaughn’s plowing into me with hard, vicious thrusts. I dig my nails into his back and claw my way back to his shoulder. I stop on them, holding on for dear life as he pumps an orgasm out of me. My legs stiffen around his sides, and my eyes roll to the back of my head, but cresting over that mountain of bliss drives Vaughn forward in another burst of frantic movements between my legs.

“Ah, fuck.” His voice booms above my head. “I’m gonna come.”

“Yes, Daddy, do it. Come inside my tight little hole,” I sob. “Give it to me. Fill me up?—”

The feeling of Vaughn’s cock flexing against my walls shuts me up. He buries his face between my breasts, kissing and licking my hot, sweaty skin as he does what I ask and releases every drop from his balls. He thrusts into me a few more times for good measure, or maybe it’s because he can’t pull himself away.

“You’re so fucking amazing, baby,” Vaughn groans.

He crumbles on top of me, cups my cheek in his hand, and starts to kiss me passionately. He keeps me there until his body gives out on him, and he collapses in full, with his head finding its place atop my bosom.

Panting, spent, and floating in pure bliss, I can’t speak. All I can manage is lifting my hand to his head and stroking the places where I must have ripped hair from.

Oh, fuck.

Maybe I was wrong.

After experiencing it firsthand, maybe Vaughn could save the world with his magic cock.

I wakethe next morning to twelve messages from Mom asking where I am with increased panic, up until the last at around midnight.

Mom:Okay. I think I’ve figured it out. You better wear protection.

My face sets ablaze readingthose words. Am I the only one who took so freaking long to realize what was going to happen between Vaughn and me? But maybe that’s not what’s leaving me in a mess. After all, protectionwas the last of our concerns last night.

And something tells me it won’t become a part of our bedroom fun.

From the en-suite bathroom, I hear the shower running. I rush out of bed and into the bathroom, seeing my man glistening beneath the water in his lean, muscled glory.

“Well, good morning, sleepy head. Hope I didn’t wake you,” he says, scooting over and gesturing that I can join if I want.

No, scratch that.

I will join.

I strip out of his shirt and spring into the shower next to him.

“You didn’t,” I say, shivering as the water strikes my naked body. “But I kinda hoped you would have.”

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