Page 35 of Who's Your Daddy?

His fingers tighten around my throat, and his mouth closes over mine. This kiss is tender, with a hint of danger. His other hand lightly cups my breast, massaging my nipple as he begins to move again. He drives into me slow and hard. So slow I feel every solid inch that fills me. So hard I jolt forward on impact. Placing both hands on the table for support, I curve my back, almost bending myself into a pretzel so I can kiss him again.

The pads of his fingers trace down my abdomen. It’s a featherlight touch, so different from the devastating force of his pelvis. The conflicting sensations are erotic, lulling me into a hypnotic trance. He rubs small circles around my clit, and I almost explode. With aggravating slowness, his hand moves back over my hip and across my ass until it reaches the place where we join.

“Take a deep breath,” he says, his voice thick with desire.

It’s another order I mindlessly obey. I inhale, and as I do, he inserts the tip of his finger. His girth is already too much, and this sudden intrusion is difficult to accommodate. I feel stretched to my absolute limit, and my body stiffens in response. The discomfort alone is enough to expel a sharp breath from me, but it’s halted halfway when his fingers tighten around my throat. A small sound of protest still escapes.

“Shhhh.” He lightly grazes the apple of my cheek with his teeth. “Don’t talk. Don’t scream. Just feel.”

I allow myself to relax, trusting him enough to fully submit to this game he’s playing with my body. His finger pushes in deeper, and he uses the rhythm of his thrusts to work it all the way in.

“Feel my cock moving inside you.” It’s the undisguised depravity in his voice that turns me on even more. “Feel how wet you are for me. Feel the way your pussy is pulsing around me, gripping me like a fucking vise because it hurts so good.”

It does. It hurts in the best way. He takes total control of my breathing, loosening his fingers whenever he thinks I need more air. The reduction of oxygen is already making me lightheaded, but it’s the intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure that flings me into a rapturous death spiral. My nails claw against the wooden table, desperately trying to hold on to something, anything. A cold sweat breaks out on my back, tantalizing me as it runs down my spine.

“Open your eyes, dollface.” He shifts my head until I’m staring at myself in the mirror again. “I want you to see the ecstasy on your face when I make you cum.”

I don’t even recognize myself. My cheeks are flushed. My skin is damp. But it’s my eyes that catch my attention. They’re wild, ablaze with the fire he’s lit inside me. He didn’t imagine what he saw. I see it now too.

I watch him as he fucks me. The effect I have on him thrills me. The hard line of his jaw tightens as he withdraws and plunges in again. His groans become deeper and more erratic. The flames grow in pace with his thrusts, fast and unyielding until they eventually consume me. I watch myself surrender control and come apart in his arms.

In the aftermath of my orgasm, the residual heat cascades over my body. I was so lost in the inferno I don’t even know how it ended. All I know is that he’s breathing hard when he loosens his grip around my neck and slowly pulls out of me.

He takes a moment to regain some composure before he turns me around and lifts me up to sit on the table.

“I needed that,” he says with a satisfied sigh.

“Wow, Armand,” I say, looping my arms around his neck. “The undead sure do have some moves.”

He chuckles at the vampire reference. “I’m immortal. I’ve had centuries to perfect this craft.”

His arms slip around me, and he brushes his lips against mine. Languid at first, but as soon as he deepens the kiss, it reignites the embers in the pit of my stomach. It doesn’t take long for the blaze to start up again. I realize then that this ishisfire. It burns only for him.

6. Peter

Things have gottenslightly out of hand. I know this. I accept full responsibility. It’s my fault. Not hers. She’s been here for five days now, and I am entirely to blame. She protested. She argued. She gave me every excuse under the sun, and I was having none of it, so I am one hundred percent accountable for the situation we’re now in.

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