Page 57 of Laila Manning
Anxiety should have bloomed inside my body, nausea should have rolled through my stomach, and fear should have ignited my survival instincts from being underneath of a man in a bed again.
But none of that happened.
It was as if I were watching the entire exchange from the side of the bed. He lowered his hips, pinning mine underneath him as my hands circled the back of his neck, holding onto him instead of pushing him away.
“Say it.” He growled as he slid his warm hand up my side, gathering my shirt out of his way so he could touch my skin. I leaned into his touch instead of cowering away from it.
He was addictive.
He was powerful.
He was safe.
He was everything that should terrify me, but he didn’t scare me. Ever.
“Laila.” He growled again and stared into my eyes, “If you want to say it, do it.”
“I’m fucked—” I started to argue.
“Shut up.” He barked, closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath like he was on the edge of something unseen inside of him. “Say it.”
“Do you want me to?” I questioned, looking for a reason amidst the chaos that was inside my head.
“I fucking need you to.” He whispered, with his eyes still closed and his jaw tight. His hand ascended until he cupped the underside of my naked breast, and my back arched, pushing my chest up into his hand like a needy slut. He smirked a devilish grin as he moved his hand higher, squeezing my entire breast and toying with my nipple.
“Fuck.” I moaned, digging my nails into the back of his neck, and curling towards him, desperate for more.
“Say it, Dove.” He pinched my nipple. “And I’ll reward you. Do what I want you to, and I’ll make you come so hard, like the good little girl that you are.”
“Daddy.” I all but screamed, desperate for what he was promising and determined to figure out if calling him that was as hot as my brain had conjured up when I first read it.
And my God, was it ever.
“Good girl.” He growled and flicked his wrist, lifting my loose pajama shirt until my breasts were bare to him for the first time. “Such a good fucking girl, Dove.” He kissed down my neck and over my collarbones until his lips hovered right above my nipple, pinchedbetween his fingers as he rolled it back and forth. “Daddy’s going to make you feel so fucking good.”
“Yes!” I cried, thrashing underneath him as he flicked his tongue over my nipple and sucked it into his mouth. The man was so talented with his fingers, his mouth, and his body. And he wasn’t even inside me yet. He’d never even touched the bare skin under my pants, yet he had made me come multiple times.
Never once taking anything for himself.
“Zeke!” I cried, thrashing in his hold as he expertly played with me. It was only a few hours ago that he had made me come on my boss’s desk, yet here he was again, pushing me into bliss. “I want to make you feel good.”
“You do.” He replied, never leaving my chest as he played with my nipples.
“No.” I shook my head, trying to focus as he thrust his hips to rub my clit. “I want to make you come.”
“No.” He shook his head, rubbing his erection against me again. “That’s not what this is about.”
“Yes, it is.” I groaned. “Don’t you want to come?”
“I will.” He growled, trying to get me to drop it.
“When?” I asked as my eyes rolled to the back of my head as he bit my nipple and sucked it hard. “Fuck.”
“Stop worrying about me and focus on what I’m giving to you.”
“I can’t.” I shook my head. “I want to make you feel just as good.”
“You do, Dove.” He growled again as he rolled his cock against my aching pussy through our pants. “You make me feel so fucking good. Every single time you look at me. Or talk to me. Or let me touch you.” He groaned. “So fucking good.”
