Page 33 of Power Play Daddies
“Never. I would never hurt you, Daisy.” His voice is soft now, almost tender, as he reaches for a condom. “You wet enough, baby?”
I nod, though my voice shakes when I say, “Think so.”
“Good.”
He’s careful as he lines up, his hand steady on my hip. When he pushes in, it’s slow at first, giving me time to adjust.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans.
I bite my lip, a soft whimper escaping as he fills me. “Kieran?—”
“Shh. I’ve got you.”
And he does. Every thrust is deliberate, every word he murmurs against my skin pulling me closer to the edge.
His piercing adds another layer to the pleasure, dragging across the most sensitive parts of me—parts I didn’t even know existed before now.
“Kieran… oh god, that’s good,” I gasp, my hips lifting to meet him, begging him to use me harder.
“More?”
“Yes,” I plead, my voice sounding strangled with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through me.
He rears back away from me, driving harder within me, his hip bones slamming into mine. His hand comes down to grip mythroat just hard enough to make me gasp, and I feel a sharp twist of pleasure jolting through me.
I don’t know how long it lasts. My world narrows to him stretching me, pounding into me, his long fingers gripping my throat. I feel deliciously trapped, unable to escape, not that I want to.
When I finally come again, I scream his name, the sound torn from my body as the orgasm twists through me with almost painful intensity. His hand grips my throat like he’s holding me down as he ruts into me two more times, groaning out his release.
When it’s over, we’re both a mess, tangled in his sheets, breathing hard. Kieran presses a lazy kiss to my temple, his fingers tracing patterns on my thigh.
“You okay?” he asks, voice soft.
I manage a nod, though I’m still catching my breath. “Yeah. You?”
“Better than okay.”
My chest is still heaving as I slump against him, burying my face in the crook of his neck. That coconut scent clings to his skin, sharp and salty, reminding me of tropical vacations and the ocean.
“You sure you’re good?” he whispers, his hand brushing over my back, fingers tracing a lazy line down my spine.
I nod against him, but my legs feel like jelly. “You’ve got too much energy,” I mumble, voice muffled by his shoulder.
He chuckles, low and rough. “Catch your breath. Then we’re doing that again.”
A laugh escapes me, and I swat at his chest weakly. “You’re insatiable.”
He pulls back enough to look at me, those light blue eyes sparkling. “For you? Damn right.”
My face heats, and I’m grateful he doesn’t point it out. Instead, his gaze flicks up to the wall across the room.
“You’re staring,” I say, following his line of sight. “It’s the cameras,” I realize aloud. “You really into photography or something?”
“Yeah,” he says, his hand sliding to my hip. “I’ve been into it since high school. Started with landscapes, then people. I like capturing moments. Honest ones, you know?”
I glance around at the scattered equipment and photos pinned to his walls. “So, what? You’re a professional?”
He shakes his head, lips quirking. “Nah, just a hobby. But I’ve sold a few pieces.”
