Page 13 of Daddy's Baby (Stonebridge Daddies 4)

I let his mouth explore my neglected neck until his lips found mine. A surge of electricity shot through my veins when our lips locked, and I felt my hands grabbing the back of his head as my fingers became entangled in his wild tresses.

This kiss was harder than the first; it screamed need, want, and desire. His tongue slithered further down my throat, and I wanted all of it. I wanted all of him. I could feel his hand wandering, making its way down to the hem of my dress. He touched my knee, and I gladly parted my legs for him. His fingers played with the cotton between my thighs, and his fingers slipped underneath as they massaged my sensitive folds. He broke his lips away and pressed his forehead against mine.

“Driver, put your headphones in.”

“Yes, sir,” the driver said.

His eyes were dark and stayed locked on mine as he strobed and flicked my folds before inserting two fingers into my tight heat. “Just as I remembered. Hot, wet, and tight.” He whispered before pulling them out and sliding them between his lips.

“Do you know what Daddy’s favorite snack is?”

Butterflies swarmed my core as I digested his words. He’s never referred to himself asDaddybefore, but I liked it a lot.

“Um…no…” I let my words trail off and followed the movements of his hand until they disappeared under the hem of my dress.

His thumb found my clit, and those two fingers slid back inside. “You.”

“Oh,” I gasped as his fingers slid out and back in.

He repeated his movements, his fingers moving vigorously as he ruined me in the back seat of his SUV. My legs tensed, and my breath stilled.

“Be a good girl and come on Daddy’s fingers.”

Before the sound of pleasure erupted past my lips, he stole a kiss, muffling the wave of moans rolling off my tongue. His wet fingers glisten in the light from the windows, and then he drove them into his mouth. Low succulent moans filled the inside of the car; it was dirty, filthy, and so fucking hot.

His damp fingers found my lips and leaned in until his breath tickled the shell of my ear. “Mine. You’re all mine.”

“Mr. Brett?” the driver called out.

“Yes?” he said as his eyes remained fixated on mine.

“The gate code?”

“0316.” He leaned in, letting his soft tongue glide across my lips.

“My birth month and day is the code?”

“Fuck yea.”

A fluttering sensation started to overtake me as I stared at his wet lips.

The SUV pulled into the underground garage and parked beside a shiny red Porsche SUV with a bow wrapped around the front.

My eyes lingered on the large bow through the window, and Jaimie seized his movements as he followed my stare.

“Well, you can’t drive a bus around town,” He smirked and then returned his mouth to my earlobe.

He nibbled playfully and grazed his fingers between my folds until he found the clit again, reminding me how sensitive I was. He knew my weaknesses. When it came to his scent, touch, and tongue, I had no option but to oblige. Cars that I’ve only ever seen on TV lined the garage. I was familiar with this building; it housed some of Stonebridge’s most elite.

We took the service elevator to the main lobby and then walked down a long corridor until we reached gold-plated elevator doors that led to his penthouse suite. The doors folded back, and my eyes met the bright skyline in the distance. We were sixty-five stories high, and the view through his floor-to-ceiling windows was breathtaking.

My eyes wandered throughout his penthouse. It was modern, expensive, and sterile looking. Contemporary oversized paintings hung from the gray walls, and oddly shaped furniture sat spaced out around the living room. It was odd. I’ve only stayed with Jaimie in five-star hotels, but he always struck me as the comfy type, and this furniture did not look comfortable at all.

“Don’t sit down; ya might not be able to get up.” He yelled from the kitchen.

I continued to roam through the rest of the penthouse. I passed the study before turning down the long hallway toward three closed doors. I opened each one. The first one was his. A king-size bed attached to a massive wooden bed frame sat in the middle of the room where it overlooked a fireplace, and a seventy-five-inch TV dangled above it. The other two rooms were small, with queen size beds.

“The furniture came with the penthouse, but I’m gonna switch it out,” he said from behind me.

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