Page 32 of Daddy Next Door

"Breathe, Lily," he instructed, noticing how I'd been holding my breath.

I inhaled shakily, the oxygen helping my muscles relax around his considerable size. He continued his careful advance until he was halfway inside, then paused, his eyes searching my face.

"You okay?" he asked, his thumb stroking my cheek with surprising tenderness given the intensity of the moment.

"Yes," I managed, my voice breathy and unfamiliar to my own ears. "More than okay. Just . . . big."

A smile flickered across his lips. "We'll take it slow," he promised, then pushed a little deeper.

The fullness was overwhelming in the best possible way. Each incremental advance sent new sensations cascading through me—pleasure mixed with the slightest edge of discomfort that only heightened the experience. The ropes around my wrists and ankles kept me spread open for him, unable to control the pace or depth, completely at his mercy. The vulnerability of my position made everything more intense, more immediate.

When he finally bottomed out, fully seated inside me, we both groaned. He stilled, allowing me to adjust to the feeling of being so completely filled. His forehead dropped to rest against mine, our breaths mingling in the small space between us.

"You feel incredible," he said, his voice rough with restrained desire. "So tight, so perfect around me."

I flexed my inner muscles experimentally, clenching around him, and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and a flash of something primal in his eyes.

"Do that again," he growled, "and this is going to be over much sooner than either of us wants."

I couldn't help but smile at the knowledge that I could affect him so strongly, even while bound and at his mercy. "Then maybe you should start moving."

He raised an eyebrow at my boldness but complied, withdrawing slowly until just the tip remained inside, then pushing back in with the same measured pace. The drag of him against my sensitive inner walls sent sparks of pleasure shooting through me.

"Ethan," I breathed, the name a prayer and a plea.

He established a rhythm that was neither too fast nor too slow—deep, deliberate strokes that allowed me to feel every inch of him. His eyes never left mine, watching each reaction, each flicker of pleasure that crossed my face.

"You're so beautiful like this," he said, his voice a low rumble that I felt as much as heard. "Tied up for me, taking me so well."

His words sent a fresh wave of arousal through me. I strained against the restraints, wanting to touch him, to pull him closer, but the ropes held firm. The frustration of not being able to move freely only heightened my other senses—the feel of him moving inside me, the scent of our mingled arousal, the sound of his increasingly ragged breathing.

"Is this what you imagined?" he asked, his pace increasing slightly. "When you touched yourself thinking about me?"

"Yes," I gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "No. Better. So much better."

He smiled—a flash of white teeth in the dim light—before lowering his head to capture my nipple in his mouth. The dual sensation of his cock inside me and his mouth on my breast had me arching as much as the restraints would allow, a high-pitched moan escaping my lips.

"That's it," he encouraged, moving to my other breast. "Let me hear you. I want to know exactly how good you feel."

His hips began to move faster, his thrusts becoming more forceful. Each stroke seemed perfectly calibrated to hit exactly where I needed him most. The tension that had been building since he first entered me coiled tighter, a familiar pressure growing low in my belly.

"Ethan," I panted, "I'm getting close."

He lifted his head from my breast, his eyes dark with desire. "Not yet," he commanded. "Hold it back. Wait for me."

The dominant tone of his voice sent a shiver through me, making my inner walls clench around him. He groaned at the sensation, his rhythm faltering momentarily before he regained control.

"Good girl," he praised, one hand moving between our bodies to find my clit. "My good little one, always so responsive."

His fingers circled the sensitive bundle of nerves, providing just enough pressure to build my pleasure without pushing me over the edge. The combination of his cock filling me and his fingers working my clit had me teetering on the brink, desperately trying to obey his command to wait.

"Please," I begged, not even sure what I was asking for. "Please, Ethan, I need . . ."

"What do you need, Lily?" he asked, his voice tight with his own restraint. "Tell me."

"I need to come," I gasped. "Please let me come."

His movements became more focused, more deliberate—each thrust precisely aimed to hit that spot inside me that made stars burst behind my eyelids, each circle of his fingers against my clit perfectly calibrated to build my pleasure.

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