Page 47 of Chaining Daisy
“No,” I confess. “I let you play with me.”
“Like this?” His thumb and forefinger rub my clit between them while his other hand keeps slowly tapping my g-spot. I have to clench my teeth to keep from screaming in pleasure.
“Yessss.”
I’m not as good at dirty talk as Gunnar, but inside my head, he’s holding me down as he plays, telling me to be quiet, telling me he could see how soaked I was for him from across the yard, telling me how fucking hot I am.
“Then what?” Gunnar’s fingers pinch and tug at my clit now as his fingers inside fuck me quicker and harder. My hips buck against the table and the wooden feet scrape against the floor. Gunnar tugs faster and I start to whimper because suddenly the sky is falling and gravity has ceased to exist. An orgasm slams into me and my hips bounce repeatedly against the table as I fall apart with a wild howl.
When the pleasure changes from a spinning, whirling vortex back to a gentle breeze, I sigh.
Gunnar, not distracted by my orgasm in the slightest, repeats his question. “What happens in your daydream after I let you come?” He varies his pace, fingers gliding over my very slick entrance, gathering cum, and sliding back up to bring my clit right back to life.
How can he do that?I wonder, dazed.
“Daisy, I’m waiting.”
But, the thing is, I don’t want to answer his question. I press my lips together and shake my head because I don’t want to share the part of my fantasy that almost always came next. After the orgasm. After the high had faded and the fantasy was riddled with guilt because I’d just gotten off thinking about my mother’s husband. I don’t want that sort of emotion to ruin this, because it could. I could easily fall down the rabbit hole, wondering if I’m a bad person.
Gunnar stills, all movement ceasing, my delicious deliriousness fading away. “What happened after that? Good girls don’t keep secrets.”
My hands fist on top of the table and my neck curls down in shame. I don’t want to tell him, but I also don’t want to disobey him. “You’d tell me it was my fault you touched me. That I tempted you. It was my fault and it was going to ruin the family.”
The guilt and fear that have been simmering underneath the surface of my happiness for the past several days erupt into a sob that I try to choke back. The fantasy isn’t real. And neither is the guilt scenario, not anymore at least because he isn’t technically married anymore. But feelings don’t often have a basis in reality … look at how long I pined for Gunnar not knowing if he wanted me back.
Immediately, Gunnar’s hands move. He slides out from inside me and his big strong arms wrap around my torso before he turns me around to face him. His palms come up to cradle my face, fingers still slick from being inside me, and his lips drop to my forehead. “I wouldneverblame you. Ever. If anything, I blame myself, because you’re so fucking irresistible that right and wrong blur.”
A tear slips out of my right eye and his face wavers in my vision. “Are we … wrong?” I asked it this morning, we literally already had this conversation and I feel foolish bringing this topic up again but I am … because after the memory of that guilt … I feel vulnerable and unsure.
Gunnar presses a soft kiss to my forehead, then the tip of my nose before he says, “No, Daisy. We’re not wrong. Nothing in the world has ever felt more right. We know it. She does too. She’s happy for us. We’re different than what people expect … but there is absolutely nothing wrong with us. Want to know a secret?” He gently swipes at my tears to ensure that I’m looking up at him clearly. “I’m sick and twisted and perverse. I’ve had goddamned dirty thoughts about you forever. Much worse than by the pool, baby. But fucked up thoughts? Fantasies? Everybody has them. You know what everyone doesn’t have? Someone to help make them come true. Someone brave enough to let you live them out. Someone sweet enough to kneel down in front of you in and let you fuck their face as rough as you want.”
I give a broken laugh. “And …you ruined it.”
“I might not be poetic, little girl. But, you’re the other half of my soul.”
His lips capture mine and his kiss doesn’t just reassure me, it flows through me and washes away all the uncertainties and fears that have been festering inside. Because I believe he means those words with every fiber of his being. I melt into him, twining my arms around his neck and sinking into his affection. His affirmation. The honest truth of his confession that we both need each other and fulfill one another in ways nobody else ever could.
For a few minutes, the outside world ceases to exist. Gunnar and I are the only people on the entire planet and we’re melding breaths, molding one another’s flesh with our fingers, trying desperately to use touches to erase the lines between his existence and mine and combine ourselves into one.
He grabs my ass and lifts me until I’m off the table, legs wrapping around him as he spins and walks forward. Suddenly, I find myself pinned to the window of the study room, the cold glass pressing against my back as Gunnar lines his dick up and shoves into me—hard.
He sets a brutal pace then, one that makes the glass thump repeatedly. His pelvis smashes into mine and his fingers dig into the bottoms of my thighs and I’ve never hurt more or felt more free.
Because I belong to him.
Because I trust him.
I let myself go—my mind floating off above the Earth. I glimpse the sun. I see solar flares. But then I realize those are streaks of red dancing behind my eyelids as I get fucked within an inch of my life by the most perfect man in the world.
When Gunnar orders, “Come for Daddy, baby,” I do.
GUNNAR
Idrive home with a huge fucking grin on my face. I never, not in my wildest dreams, thought Daisy would be this perfect. I thought I’d have to be slow with her … seduce her gradually, introduce kinks in tiny little stages. The dark craving for her made me okay with being very slow and deliberate, not just jumping right into what I wanted.
But I didn’t need to do any of that.
My baby girl wanted her Daddy. And she just might be as kinky as me.
