Page 71 of Filthy Business
And I meant it.
I wasn’t letting her go.
Not tonight. Not ever.
???
When I woke up, I wasn’t buried inside her hole, but her hot little mouth was working up and down my cock, sucking up her sweet juice and my come from last night. I stretched my back and spread my legs wider.
“Clean my balls as well, baby. You made quite the mess last night,” I said, pulling the covers off her head to watch.
Iris glanced up at me and licked her way down the length of my cock before her tongue swirled around one ball, licking and sucking, then moving to the other.
“My hot little wife,” I murmured.“Look at you—licking up every filthy drop like the good little cumslut you are. That mouth was made for me, baby. You were born to worship this cock.”
She moaned around my sac, eyes flickering up to meet mine.
“Suck on the tip and slide your way down to my balls. I want to feel your throat, sweetheart. Choke on it for me, yeah? Daddy wants to see those eyes water.”
She rose up and spat on my cock—loud, messy, obscene—then leaned back and let it drip from her tongue, watching it trail down my length. I hissed through my teeth, veins bulging in my arms as I gripped the sheets.
“That’s it. Make a fucking mess of it.”
She wrapped her lips around the head, eyes locked on mine as she sank lower, wet and hungry.
“My filthy little cocksleeve,” I growled.“Suck it like you’re starved. I want your throat bruised, baby. I want you sore every time you swallow.”
She gagged as I bucked up, shoving deeper.
“Fucking perfect. Just like that. Nose against my cock, drool all over your chin—show me who you belong to.”
I grabbed her hair and held her still, fucking her open mouth while she drooled and gagged for me. With each thrust up into her throat, she stayed open for it—obedient only for me. Her Daddy. Tears streamed down her cheeks, soaking my balls.
When she moaned around my cock, I had to yank her off.
She was going to be soaked. Aching. Desperate for me to fill her where it counted.
She gasped for air, and I sat up to wipe her face—smearing our mess into her hair.
“Come here, sweetheart. Lie on your back. Let Daddy give you what you need,” I crooned, guiding her up with my hands.
I laid her on the bed and went to get the harness.
She was getting deep-fucked this morning.
Iris
Two Months Later
I glared at Daddy when I kissed my mum’s cheek. That roadside detour? Absolutely unnecessary. Now I had the lingering taste of him while greeting my mother. Gross. And entirely his fault.
His amusement at my predicament was irritating—but so very him.
“Oh, my first grandchild. You’re looking beautiful, Iris,” my mum said, tearing up.
It took some persuading to get my mum on board with my engagement to Daddy, but when I visited her, I told her everything. Well—everything except the filthy business of non-stop sex and the kidnapped sex holiday.
She came around enough to meet him, and with Daddy on his best behaviour, she eventually agreed to come to our wedding. They stayed in our apartment while we were on our honeymoon. I knew my mum missed London, and Daddy offered to let her live rent-free in one of his many properties, but she declined.
