Page 19 of Daddy's Bad Girl
“Oh my god!” I squeal, looking at the wet puddle of sperm. But Logan merely chuckles deep in his chest before pressing another hot kiss to my shoulder.
“You were amazing, Emma,” he rasps while lifting my weight so that I come off the dildo as well. “A thousand times sweeter and hotter than my wildest dreams.”
I’m not sure what to make of that statement because has he been fantasizing about me, nerdy Emma Kincaid? The one who always has her nose stuck in the books? But the billionaire reads my mind and pulls me around to face him before staring into my eyes.
“You’re gorgeous, “he rasps, before seizing my plush pout in a ravenous kiss. “Never have doubts about yourself, Emma, because you’re incredibly beautiful and so responsive too. What we had? It’s as good as it gets. You’re everything I need.”
Oh my god, what is he saying? Yes, we shared a hard, filthy fuck but is Logan implying that I mean more to him than passing physical release? That we might even have a future together? My mind says no, but I let myself pretend for a moment because despite the fact that he talks dirty, I feel safe in this man’s arms. His strong presence is reassuring and protective, and instinctively, I know that Logan Blackshaw will take care of me ... and that I’m home when I’m in his embrace.
12
Logan
It’s been an insane month. For one, Emma basically never left after our filthy fuck on the mounted dildo. It was so pleasurable, and so fucking dirty, that somehow, she ended up moving into my penthouse. We enjoy each other’s bodies non-stop, and I’d say I’ve never been so satisfied by a woman, nor so pleased either.
Of course, Emma still attends classes and studies like a fiend, but I’d say the young woman’s more relaxed now. She’s opened up a bit, and our lives have settled into a nice routine, which I think helps her de-stress. I wake her up in the mornings with my dick in her pussy because it helps put her into a good mood. Then, we eat a quick breakfast before I leave for my job, while she settles in with her books. When I return in the evening, we dine together on a meal prepared by my chef before going upstairs where Emma lets me put my cock anywhere I like. The curvy girl’s overflowing with my jizz at all hours these days, and I intend on keeping it that way.
But it’s Saturday morning now, and we have the penthouse to ourselves. The beautiful girl’s laid out in bed, nibbling on a croissant as she smiles at me impishly.
“There’s something on your mind,” she teases. “What is it? Tell me, Mr. Blackshaw.”
I growl while popping a scone into my mouth.
“Just thinking how beautiful you are, sweetheart, and how lucky I am to be with you.”
A blonde brow lifts as Emma smiles sweetly at me.
“Are you waxing poetic?” she asks in an arch tone. “I wouldn’t have guessed you were such a romantic, Logan. My, my, how the tables have turned.”
I growl before reaching for a big breast and giving her nipple a tender squeeze. She moans slightly, her plush pout parting, but I’m actually totally serious.
“I am a romantic,” I grunt possessively. “At least when it comes to you.”
It’s true too. Somehow, this woman has me wrapped around her little finger, and I don’t mind one bit. Usually, I’m a fucking asshole who plows through ladies one after the other with no care for their thoughts, feelings, or emotions. But with a wave of her magic wand, Emma’s got me locked down tight. Or more accurately, with her sweet smile, wet cunt, and deliciously tight asshole, the young woman has me on a leash and I’m like a fucking lapdog now.
Yet somehow, we’re still in the process of getting to know each other, even after a month together. I guess it makes sense because we spend all our time fucking in bed, with her mouth crammed full of cock or a toy stuffed down her throat. But we need to spend more time talking because I don’t want Emma to feel like she’s just a plaything to me. She’s not disposable at all, even if my balls are always heavy and tight, and my dick stiff, when she’s in the room.
“So tell me more about school,” I drawl in a casual tone. “How many hours are you studying these days?”
Emma calculates in her head, her plush pout pursing as she thinks.
“Too many,” she says in a mock-doleful voice. “Way, way too many.”
I squint a little.
“Okay, and it’s for that medical school admission test, right?”
“Yes,” she confirms, looking a little despondent. “I’m so behind too! I’m seriously freaking out, Logan. If I don’t pass this thing ... ugh,” she shudders, those big breasts vibrating. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
I shake my head while taking her small hand in my big one.
“But can you join a study group? Would that help? I know you’re here for hours every day, with your nose in the books, sweetheart. It must be isolating, and maybe you could hook up with some other pre-med kids who are also studying their asses off.”
Emma laughs, the tinkling sound light and melodious in the air.
“Oh Logan,” she says with an exasperated smile. “You don’t understand pre-med at all, do you? These so-called “kids” are like sharks. They actively try to sabotage one another, and the competition is so fierce that it can get bloody. Literally, at the library last year two pre-med kids had a fight over who was going to get to sit at an open desk. It was crazy.”
I shake my head.
