Page 231 of Daddy, Take Me Away
“The hell you are.” I yank my shorts down, ripping a condom free of the strip lying on the floor. “You’re going to come on my cock and nowhere else, yeah?”
“Hurry,” she begs.
And I do.
Sliding inside her is perfect, and almost enough to make me come right there. She’s hot and wet and fucking tight. God, so tight.
I take my time with the first thrust, listening to her mewling cues and then increase the tempo, pumping into her until our breathing is synced, and as labored as when we climbed the cliffs earlier. Was that just an hour ago?
How the fuck did this happen? How am I balls deep, my eyes practically rolling back in my head at the feel of her glorious pussy, when we only officially met a few hours ago? That’s not altogether unusual for my encounters since I’ve played with strangers at clubs, but never with this kind of connection. Never feeling so consumed by them.
Zoë calls out, breaking me from my thoughts and watching her head tip back, her eyes squeezed tight and her chest heaving as her pussy muscles squeeze around my cock, pushing me close. My balls tighten, the base of my spine tingles and I fucking spurt hot cum into the condom.
She falls forward, her forehead coming to rest on mine. “God, that was good.”
“It fucking was, sweetheart.”
She whimpers and I hold back my hiss at the sensitivity of my cock as I disengage from her.
“Don’t move,” I demand, looking her in the eye and she nods. This time I’m positive she doesn’t have the energy to disobey.
I return moments later with a bottle of cold water and a warm washcloth. Handing her the water, I clean her up wishing my cum was weeping from her pussy. The thought halts me.
When have I ever wanted that? That sounds like some fucking weird breeding fantasy. But it’s not that, it’s more about wanting something of me left inside her. I’m just not sure if that’s about staking my claim, or if it’s about needing a safe place to leave myself before I meet with Gwen and lose myself again.
Shaking my head, I leave her, to toss the washcloth in the tub. I don’t want thoughts of Gwen to taint whatever this is.
The glass is empty when I get back to her, but she hasn’t moved. There’s a vulnerability in her eyes that I recognize well. There is an intimacy in what we’ve just done that supersedes vanilla sex and requires aftercare, so I scoop her up and carry her to the bedroom.
“Come on. I’ll hold you.”
Zoë wraps her arms around my neck and lowers her head to my shoulder. My gut tightens as I hear a sniff. Fuck.
Laying her onto the bed, I tuck in behind her. “You okay?”
“More than okay.” She rolls to face me and the glassy sheen of her eyes have nothing on the shine of her smile. “That was my first kinky experience and holy crap, I loved it.”
I wipe a tear that drips over her bottom eyelid. “Enough to cry?”
“These are happy tears, maybe not happy per se, but emotion-letting. You know, like bloodletting, but to balance out my emotions.”
I chuckle at that. But inside, I feel it too. Heightened emotions I’ve never felt before. What am I, a fucking girl now? Jesus.
“How’s your bottom?”
“It feels good. Warm, tingly and maybe slightly sore, but in the best possible way.”
“Good.”
“You don’t have to stay, you know. I know you’re busy and this was just an adrenaline-induced sexcapade. I don’t think they usually conclude with cuddling.”
I want to reassure her this was more than that, but was it? Yes, we had fun, something I never allow myself to do, and yes, there were some endorphins involved. We’re also both dodging some people we don’t want to see, but is that enough to make this feel so… intense?
Damn. I’ve always been an overthinker but fuck, this is a new record.
“Zoë, close your eyes. Have a nap. That’s an order.” I punctuate my words with a slap to her ass, which makes her smile. And her smile makes me grin like a goddamned fool.
It’s just a combination of adrenaline drop, endorphins, and fucking oxytocin, I tell myself, and then shut my own eyes.
