Page 45 of Chaining Daisy
I stifle a moan as he pulls my hand away from his dick and turns, striding down the aisles so quickly that I have to nearly run to keep up with him. Anticipation is bubbling up happily inside of me. I can’t wait to learn everything he wants to show me.
We reach a series of reading rooms that are separated from the rest of the library by a wall and oversized windows allowing outsiders to peer in. I’m guessing they were designed that way so librarians can keep an eye on the precious first editions they bring up from the archives. Or to discourage the rooms from being used for any purpose other than studying. But if they hadn’t wanted people to use these rooms for hookups, they really should have stationed a permanent librarian desk right across from them, not left them alone on this floor.
Poor choice,as Gunnar would say.Poor logic.But I’m thrilled right now about their poor choices, because now I get to make some poor choices of my own. Some very exciting ones.
A study room at the far end is lit up bright yellow, some guy curled over a massive book, laptop glowing beside him. He has on headphones. Hopefully, we’ll stay quiet enough not to disturb him. Maybe. Possibly. Honestly, right now I don’t fucking care.
Gunnar heads for the study room at the opposite end of the row, four doors down. He opens the door and then pulls me inside, not bothering to turn on the light.
I can’t see in the pitch black after being at the table with all the study lamps, so I end up standing still and waiting for my eyes to adjust as he walks over to the table. I hear him pull out a chair. Then there’s the rasp of his zipper. A rustle of cloth. The chair groans when he sits.
“Daisy, get undressed,” Daddy tells me.
“Um…” I glance at the window of the study room. We’re even more exposed here than we were in that empty classroom. What’s a narrow window in a door compared with a window that spans the length of the study room and showcases everything from the waist up.
There are only two people on this floor that I know of … Justin and that studying guy, but still.
“Get naked now, baby girl, or I’ll stuff those panties in your mouth to muffle your screams while I spank you.”
Gunnar’s threat makes me move quickly. I kick off my heels and quickly shed my crop top and bra. Then I wriggle out of my jean skirt and panties in one go.
The cool air of the library prickles my skin as I make my way over to his chair, where his silhouette sits rigid and straight. Gunnar’s still fully clothed on top. Only I’m exposed for anyone walking by to see. I’m starting to think he likes it that way.
Based on the flash of heat flaring in my low belly, I’m starting to think I might too.
“Sit on Daddy’s lap.”
I walk over and stand in front of him, facing the wooden table before slowly lowering myself down onto him. Gunnar guides himself so his cock slides right between my thighs and up over the front of my slit. It’s so warm and hot against my skin—it’s everything I’ve been craving from him. I end up rocking my hips automatically and his hands come down to the tops of my thighs.
I love our size difference, how his hands can cover so much of my legs as I writhe on top of him, the way his big arms surround me, how I can lean back against his chest and feel so small.
“Daisy …” he’s slow and draws my name out in the most deliciously sensual way before adding, “who’s supposed to start playtime?”
Immediately, I stop moving, though my pussy wants to shriek in protest because I just got his dick wet enough for the glide to feel delicious.Dammit.My lower lip juts out and I want to pout even though what spills out of my mouth is, “Sorry, Daddy. I’ve been thinking about this the entire time and I couldn’t help myself.”
“Good girls have self-control, baby. Now, are you my good girl? Or are you a little slut?” His hands move up to tweak my nipples and my mind blanks—I nearly forget he’s spoken until he repeats it. Apparently, it wasn’t a rhetorical question.
“Can I be both?” I whimper as he pinches rhythmically, making my body sing.
“You want Daddy to treat you like his own little slut? You want me to shove you under my desk at home and make you blow me while I’m working? You want me to finger you at stoplights and make you come while strangers watch?”
His naughty words alone make me want to writhe again and I whimper, reaching down and digging my fingernails into his hips as I try to resist.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?” His hands leave my nipples and one of them goes down to glide along my soaked opening while the other comes up and gathers up my hair into a low ponytail at the base of my neck. He tugs gently on my hair, turning my head to the side so he can lean down and place gentle kisses along my neck as he asks, “You wouldn’t rather I wake you up each morning with sweet kisses to your little pussy?” His fingers swirl lightly around my clit. “You don’t want me to make soft love to you and cuddle after?”
“Daddy!” I squeal, because between his touch and his words I’m so close to detonation. I just need a tiny bit more ….
“Which one, baby?”
“Slut. Right now, I want to be your slut.” The admission flies from my lips as I give into temptation and swivel against his dick.
In under a second, he stands up and shoves me forward onto the study table. My hands fly out to catch myself and the cold wood startles my peaked nipples, contrasting the flush of heat that spreads through me knowing I’m finally about to get fucked. Hard.
Gunnar’s hand doesn’t leave my hair—if anything, his grip tightens.
I hear his pants drop and then, without preamble, his dick breaches me.
