Page 27 of Wrong Idea

“Yes,” I gasped, rolling my hips, trying to get him to go beneath the material, but he wasn’t giving me what I wanted. What I needed.

“Thought I could smell you.” I felt him bend over, then his lips touched my back just after he breathed in my skin, but I wasn’t sure. “Fuck. I wanted to look, too, baby girl. You have no idea how badly I wanted to pull the blanket just a little off to the side to get a peek at those panties you were wearing that day and see if I could find a little wet spot.”

“There was nothing little about it.” I moaned. His thumb circled my clit, but it wasn’t enough.

“Naughty girl. Getting wet because daddy was touching you.”

“Oh god,” I moaned.

“Spread those pretty thighs for me,” he demanded hoarsely. “Open them up and show daddy what’s his. What you’ve been keeping nice and safe for him.” I spread them more and felt his breath tickle the back of my thighs. I sighed, unable to stop the way I squirmed. It was like I couldn’t get my body to stop. Car’s hand dropped and smacked my ass. The sharp sound and slight pain did it.

“Stay still,” he ordered. “Be a good girl for daddy, and I promise I will make you feel so fucking good.”

“Oh god,” I moaned, unable to think of anything else to say.

I loved seeing this side of him. The way he made demands and took control. Like he couldn’t help it. The contrast of the gentle man who took care of me throughout most of the day to this man who couldn’t seem to help his need.

I wanted to watch him lose control.

The thought only amped up the moment. His big, strong hands gripped and stroked my hips over and over, working my glutes, the tips of his fingers skimming the most intimate parts of me. So lost in the moment, I couldn’t tell you if it had been five minutes or fifty of him teasing my body. Coming close to where I needed him, only to pull his hand away.

“Just like that, pretty girl,” he praised. “Look at this perfect ass. Fuck.” His tongue licked one cheek and then the other. “All I want to do is take a big juicy bite,” he gritted, and I felt liquid heat gush from between my legs. His words painted a picture in my head so clearly. I could see my butt cheek with an imprint of his teeth.Daddy’s teeth.

“Spread those thighs a little more for me,” he ordered against my ass. I did as he asked and was immediately rewarded with his talented long fingers. They pulled the ruined material to the side and ever so softly skimmed my sensitive flesh.

“Daddy,” I cried out, and he growled.

“Look how wet you are. Is this what I would have found that day if I had touched you like I wanted?” His voice sounded scratchy.

“Yes.” There was no playing it coy. He knew just how badly I wanted the massage to turn dirty.

“Stay still, princess. Let daddy touch you,” he demanded, and I tried to be good.

God, I tried. But it was impossible. My thighs were slick with need, and I could only imagine the wet spot beneath me, growing with every second that ticked by. I loved the way he touched me. The possessiveness to it. It made me feel like I was his, like I belonged to him and only him. I was in trouble and way over my head. I’d fallen in love with the man. Head over heels, stupid in love.

I got lost in the moment.

The way his hands still rubbed my body but kept moving between my folds. Back and forth, his thumb circling my swollen clit. I rubbed down on his touch, and his palm wrapped around my mound.

“Grind on my hand, princess,” he demanded roughly. My hand bumped his hard body, and then I glanced towards him, noticing just how close my hand was to his hardened length.

“Car,” I whimpered. “Please, Daddy.”

“What is it, princess?”

“Can I touch you? Please, Daddy.” I wasn’t above begging more, but he wouldn’t have wanted that from me.

“Fuck!” he cursed, and when our gazes locked, I didn’t miss the bead of sweat at his temple. “Do it.” He jerked his head, his nose flared. I wondered if he could smell my need and arousal. “I can’t say no to you. I’m fucking weak when it comes to you, Max,” he confessed, leaving me completely humble. How was it that I had that kind of hold on a man like Car? I hurried to take him out, wrapping my hand around his girth. He was so wide my fingers could barely touch as they enveloped him.

“Just like that,” he gritted through his teeth. That bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face, his fingers sawing in and out of my pussy. “Just like that, princess.”

“Daddy, I want you to fuck me.” I was more than ready. I needed him more than I needed to breathe. I glanced at the long thickness in my hand. I could have easily been intimidated byhis size, and if I had met him when I was younger, I would have been. But I knew him. The real Car. He would never hurt me. He would take his time stretching me and popping my cherry.

“No.” He shook his head. That damn stubborn self-control of his.

“I need you,” I whined. “Please.”

“You’re not ready. We need to talk.” He held on to this wholewe need to talk,but I didn’t. I knew what I wanted, and I was too impatient. Nothing mattered but being closer to him in the only way I knew how.

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