Page 62 of Submitting to Daddy
Kill the feed to VIP6.
Inside, I double-check the tiny red light on the camera to ensure it’s off.
I strip quickly, sliding into the barely-there lingerie and rolling up the stockings slowly, savoring the ritual. I pour two fingers of whiskey into a crystal glass and set it on the low table.
Grabbing my phone, I set the timer and snap a handful of selfies. I swipe through them and settle on the best three: thigh-highs, the sheer bra not quite covering my tits, and a playful bite of my lower lip. I text them to Cillian.
Is this what Daddy wants?
The response comes fast.
CILLIAN
Fuck, firecracker. Don’t tease me.
VIP6.
Within a matter of minutes, he barrels through the door, slamming it shut as quickly as it opened. His eyes are fire, raking over my body and already undressing me in his mind.
“You summoned me?” he drawls, accepting the glass of whiskey from my outstretched hand.
Smiling sweetly, I lead him to the couch and gently push him onto it. I climb onto his lap and straddle him. My hands pressed to his chest, I teasingly slide my ass up and down his thighs. Leaning close and brushing my tits across his chest, I whisper, “It’s a private show for my favorite client.”
“Youronlyclient,” he grits his correction. I grind firmly against his hips and slip from his lap, listening to his disappointed groan as I saunter to the pole in the center of the room. Listening to the sultry beat humming from the speakers, I wrap my fingers around it and lean into the curve of my spine. My hips circle in a deep, lazy roll as I stare at him across the room.
Pressing my back to the cool metal, my fingers trace up the inside of my thighs. They glide over lace and skin teasingly slow, just enough to leave him aching. Spinning quickly, I let the motion carry my hair over one shoulder, my body twisting as I grab the pole again. I slide down it with a slow grind until I’m crouched low, my legs wide, ass lifted, back arched. The music pulses, and I rise with it, chest out, hands skating over my sides to palm my breasts through the sheer red lace cups. Gripping the clasp, I undo it and let the lacy fabric fall to thefloor.
I drag my tongue and teeth across my bottom lip as my eyes find his. His gaze is molten. Tracking every shift of my weight, every deliberate bounce of my breasts, every inch of bare skin I reveal like it’s a gift meant only for him.
I turn and press my palms to the floor, grinding against it., Lifting my ass and pushing back onto my knees, I draw attention to the curve of my hips and the deep curve of my spine. I rise slowly, one leg wrapping around the pole, climbing it until I’m perched high. After flipping upside down, I spin to the floor in a slow, sinuous descent. My back presses to the floor just as the song is coming to an end.
It’s not just a dance. It’s a striptease for one man—designed to absolutely ruin him.
Cillian curls a finger, beckoning me forward.
I go over to him on my hands and knees, crawling from the pole to the couch. My hands slide from his knees to his chest as I sensuously slip onto his lap. I grind against him, giving him a lap dance that leaves his jaw clenched and his hands white-knuckled on the back of the couch.
“You’re going to kill me,” he grits, his hands sliding up the bare skin of my back and pulling me even tighter to him. “I’m ready to explode at the thought of sinking inside you.”
Rolling my hips against his hard cock beneath his slacks, I smirk. “Sorry. Club and personal rule: I don’t fuck clients.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, eyes glinting. “Then I guess I’ll just have to take you home,” he whispers gravelly against my throat, “so mywifecan fuck me.”
“Deal.” I grin. And God help me, I’ve never wanted him more.
By the time I get Madison home, I’m strung tight with need.
She knew exactly what she was doing in that private room. Every sway of her hips. Every glance over her shoulder. That wicked little smile on her lips when she crawled across the room and into my lap.
The second the penthouse door clicks shut, I pin her against it. Her back hits the cold steel with a thud, and I cage her in with my body, one palm flat beside her head.
“Still feeling like a tease?” I ask, brushing my nose along her jaw. “Or are you ready to behave for Daddy?”
Her smile is slow and sweet, but the heat in her eyes gives her away. Staring up at me through her lashes, she playfully chews at her lower lip. “Can you define ‘behave’?”
Wrong answer, firecracker.
I grab her wrist and pull her from the door, guiding her across the apartment and toward the spiral staircase with deliberate steps. Her breath stutters when I lead her straight into the bedroom and to the edge of the bed without saying a single word. I reach for my belt and slip it free from the loops with a snap. Taking a seat, I pat my lap.
