Page 63 of Daddy Down Under

“Look at me,” he commanded softly, waiting until my eyes locked with his. The intensity, the raw emotion I saw there took my breath away. “I’ve got you. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

And then he was pushing inside, the thick, hard length of him breaching me inch by delicious inch. I threw my head back, a long, low moan escaping my throat as he filled me, stretched me, claimed me in the most primal way possible.

The burn, the pressure, the sheer overwhelming fullness—it was almost too much. Ocean stilled when he was fully seated inside me, giving me a moment to adjust. His forehead rested against mine, our breath mingling as we both trembled with the effort of holding back.

“God, you feel incredible. So tight, so perfect…”

I clenched around him experimentally, and he hissed, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.

“Fuck, baby…” Ocean groaned, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before locking back onto mine. “You keep that up, and this will be over embarrassingly quick.”

A breathless laugh escaped me, even as I rolled my hips, savoring the delicious friction of him inside me. “We’ve got all night…and I plan to make the most of every minute.”

Something flashed in Ocean’s eyes at that, hot and possessive. “Oh, I’ll give you every minute,” he promised, pulling out and sliding back in slowly. “Every second, until you forget your own name and the only word you remember is Ocean.”

The intensity, the raw need in his voice, sent a shiver down my spine. I rolled my hips, urging him deeper, needing more.

“Move.” I wrapped my legs around his waist to pull him even deeper. “Please, Ocean, I need you to move…”

He obliged, the drag of his cock against my inner walls making me see stars. He set a steady rhythm, deep and thorough, hitting that spot that made my toes curl on every thrust.

“You take me so well, baby,” Ocean praised. “Like you were made for me.”

I could only moan in response, too lost in sensation to form words. My hands scrabbled at his back, blunt nails digging into his shoulders as I tried to pull him impossibly closer. I needed him deeper, harder, needed to be consumed by him entirely.

As if reading my mind, Ocean hitched my legs higher, the change in angle allowing him to plunge even deeper. I cried out, my back arching off the bed as he pounded into me, the headboard slamming against the wall with the force of his thrusts.

I moaned brokenly, my nails digging into his shoulders as I clung to him, lost in the sensation of Ocean claiming me so thoroughly. He was everywhere—above me, inside me, surrounding me with his scent and his heat and his overwhelming presence.

Ocean’s thrusts grew harder, faster, more erratic as his control began to slip. I could feel my own orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter at the base of my spine.

“Come for me,” Ocean growled, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

His words were my undoing. With a cry of his name, I shattered, my body convulsing as my orgasm ripped through me with the force of a tidal wave. I clenched around him, white-hot pleasure shorting out every nerve ending until I was nothing but sensation, Ocean’s name a litany on my lips. Ocean worked me through it, his hips rocking shallowly, drawing out every last shudder and gasp until I collapsed against the sheets, utterly spent.

Ocean followed me over the edge with a guttural groan, his hips snapping forward as he buried himself to the hilt, spilling deep inside me with a hoarse cry of my name. He collapsed on top of me, both of us panting and trembling in the aftermath.

We stayed like that for a long moment, chests heaving, clinging to each other as the aftershocks rolled through us. Ocean’s forehead rested against mine, our breath mingling in the scant space between us. His weight was a comforting anchor. His body still joined with mine in the most intimate way possible.

Eventually, he lifted his head from where it had been buried in the crook of my neck, his ocean eyes finding mine. The tenderness, the pure adoration I saw there stole the breath from my lungs.

“That was…” I was unable to find a word to adequately describe the intensity of what we had just shared.

“Yeah. It was. It was.”

Apparently, he didn’t have words either.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

In which a massage leads to a deep conversation, which leads to me discovering who I really am deep inside…and who I want Ocean to be.

I woke with a groan,every muscle in my body screaming in protest as I tried to roll over. The bed that had felt like a cloud before did nothing to alleviate my discomfort.

“Fuck.” I winced as I finally managed to sit up. My arms felt like overcooked spaghetti, my abs were on fire, and my legs… Christ, I didn’t even want to think about my legs. I’d expected to be sore, but this was a whole new level.

I heard a low chuckle and looked up to see Ocean leaning against the doorframe, all tousled blond hair and a knowing smirk. Even through my discomfort, my breath caught at the sight of him. How did he manage to look so damn good first thing in the morning?

“Feeling your muscles, baby?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement and something softer. He padded over to the bed, his movements fluid and graceful. I envied his ease of motion.

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