Page 20 of Valentine's Heart

My eyelids fluttered closed as I obeyed, his light grip on my neck not enough to make my head spin, but feeling dizzy nonetheless. I sucked at his thumb, drawing the flavors of him inside me, wishing it were another part of him I was exploring. After a while, my heartbeat had settled, but a second pulse had started up in my clit. Every suck on his thumb was echoed below, and when he pulled it away, I whimpered.

“Shush, baby girl. I need to see all of you.” He kept his hand on my neck, but used the other to open the front of the silky robe, taking in my flushed skin. “Look at those perfect, tight little nipples,” he murmured softly, using his free hand to cup first one, then the other, rolling the beaded flesh in between his damp thumb and forefinger. “Like little raspberries, sweet and ripe.”

He blew a stream of cool air onto them, and the wetness from my own spit made them tighten even farther. Using the hand around my neck, he lifted my chin. “Look at that. Look how small you are under my hand, baby girl. So little.” He spanned one entire breast with his hand, squeezing rhythmically.

I felt a strange swirling feeling in my lower abdomen. Not a cramp, but something pleasurable and new.

“Spread your legs,” he growled in my ear. “I need to see if you’re getting wet for me.”

Holding his gaze in the mirror, I obeyed, moving the robe out of the way and baring my mound, with its patch of honey-brown curls. He inhaled, drawing my scent into his lungs, and pressed against my back once more.

“Open your lips, sweetheart. Show me that pretty little pussy.”

My eyes were wide now, and my chest was as red as my cheeks. I did what he asked, though I winced at the slick that gleamed on my thighs. I began to close my legs, but he tsked.

“Did I say to shut your legs?” He let go of my neck and moved away.

“I’m sorry,” I began, but he wasn’t leaving. He’d just moved around the stool and was kneeling on the floor in front of me, the towel knotted around his waist falling to the floor. From this angle, all I could see were his shoulders, head, and back. He had scars all over his bronzed skin, some that were round and shiny, raised above the rest. “Are those from bullets?” I gasped.

“The world is a dangerous place, little one. That’s why I’ll never let you be alone. Why you need to listen to me when I tell you to do something, okay? You be a good girl, and I’ll take care of everything. Now, I need to concentrate on this sweet little cunt. I’m going to give you an orgasm, sweetheart. Maybe more than one.”

When I started to protest, he wrapped his hands around my upper thighs and spread me so wide, it ached slightly. “I’m not asking, baby girl. I’m telling. I’m going to suck this little clit”—he swiped his tongue right over it, making me squeal—“and fuck this little virgin hole with my tongue.” Lowering his head, he poked just the tip of his tongue into me. I had a feeling he meant to go on, but he groaned and went back, lapping and slurping, like he was drinking my slick. “Fucking delicious,” he mumbled against my swollen lips. “Damnit, I could eat this pussy every day of my life.”

I almost giggled, but then he moved his head back to my clit and began to suck and circle, nip and tease. The swirling sensation got stronger, and a matching wave of anxiety started up inside. This was what it always felt like, right before I didn’t come.

“Your thoughts are distracting you, sweet girl,” Donovan murmured. “That means I need to give you something else to think about. I’m going to put my finger inside you, okay? It’s going to make you feel even better, when I curve it up toward your clit, like you’re being rubbed on both sides. Have you ever done that?”

“No.” I panted, feeling the anxiety begin to fade, and a curiosity begin.

“Do you want it?” He circled my clit a few more times, bringing the feeling back quickly, then paused. “Answer me.”

“Yes.” I thrust my hips up slightly, trying to get his tongue back where it had felt so good.

He stopped licking entirely. “Yes, who?”

My face in the mirror was bright red. I swallowed hard, then whispered, “Yes, Daddy.”

“Say, ‘Yes, Daddy, lick my pussy until I come all over your face.’”

I slammed my eyes shut, but he wouldn’t start again until I said it.

Chapter 9

Donovan

Her sweet voice trembled as she obeyed. “Yes, Daddy, lick my pussy until I come all over your face.”

I grinned into her slick-soaked core and got to work. I was going to Hell for this, and I didn’t even care. Every time she called me Daddy, my cock jerked like she’d called him by name.

I hadn’t ever been called Daddy before. I’d never even imagined it would turn me on like this, until a few weeks ago when I was watching Valentine read on the rooftop solarium at her apartment. She’d nodded off in her cushioned Adirondack chair, and the book—inside a fabric sleeve—had fallen to the ground. I’d picked it up, intending to mark the page for her, and discovered that my sweet little charge had been fascinated by a story titled Daddy’s Little Omega. And then I’d gotten immersed, for a solid half hour, while she slept.

After only a few pages, I’d known why she had a cover to disguise it, and it wasn’t just for the title. The paperback had been dogeared, the original cover torn, and the spine cracked in a half-dozen places. It had fallen open to one of those when I picked it up, to a scene where the main character was suckling gently on her lover’s cock, using it as a comfort item. The book had referred to it as cock warming, a term I had never come across. I’d thoroughly researched it since then, as well as a host of other, related sexual kinks.

I hadn’t been certain this type of play would really appeal to my charge. People read a lot of things, right? But she’d read this particular book until it was falling apart.

The mere thought of Valentine reading that kind of story—and enjoying it—had me so hard I’d been leaking in my pants, and aching for the rest of the day. I’d been shocked. After years of being uninterested in sex, it had taken up center stage in my fantasies.

But only sex with her.

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