Page 61 of Off-Limits Daddy
His hand threaded into my hair. “You want it?”
“So bad,” I whispered.
He leaned in, voice rough and low. “Then beg me for it, sweetheart.”
My hands stilled.
“Please,” I whispered, looking up at him. “Let me suck your cock, Daddy.”
His eyes went dark.
“Good boy.”
My fingers moved to his belt, undoing the clasp with a practiced flick. The button popped open under my thumb.
The zipper rasped down, loud in the quiet between us—metal teeth parting in sync with our breaths.
I tugged his jeans and briefs down together. His cock sprang free—thick, flushed, already leaking. My mouth went dry, then flooded.
God, I wanted to taste him.
Daddy cupped the back of my head. Just held me there, like he was giving me the choice. I didn’t need it.
I leaned in and licked him—slow, from base to tip, savoring every inch. His grip tightened.
“Fuck,” he growled, voice thick with heat. His fingers tightened in my hair, like he needed the anchor. “Look at you. My perfect boy on his knees for me. You were made for this, weren’t you?”
My inside voice answered “yes” even as I took him in, inch by inch, my tongue dragging along the underside. He was hot and heavy on my tongue, hips tensing when I swallowed deeper.
“That’s it. Just like that. You look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock.”
I moaned around him, sinking down farther, letting my hands grip his thighs for balance. His voice curled around my brain like a drug.
“You don’t even know what you do to me.” His voice cracked low. “You’re all I fuckin’ think about.”
I kept going—slow, dirty strokes, my jaw aching, but I didn’t care. I wanted to feel him lose it. Wanted to know I could bring him to the edge like he’d done to me.
But before I could get him there, he pulled back.
I stood on shaky legs, heart thudding wild.
Daddy stepped in close, his hands going to the hem of my tank. It was bright red with a bold white graphic—soft cotton that clung just enough across my chest. I’d picked it with him inmind, paired it with fitted cargo shorts and fresh white sneakers. Casual, but not careless.
He tugged it up slow, watching my face the whole time. I lifted my arms.
The top came off in one smooth pull. He dropped it on the floor without looking away from me.
“You always this pretty under your clothes?” he murmured, his thumb grazing down my sternum.
Then he went for my cargo shorts. The button popped, the zipper slid down, and before the fabric even cleared my hips, his breath hitched.
“Jesus, baby.”
His fingers hovered at the waistband of the red lace.
“You wear these for me?”
I nodded, heat crawling up my neck. “Yeah. Kinda hoped you’d see them.”
