Page 34 of Power Play Daddies
My fingers drift over the edge of a framed photo on his nightstand—a black-and-white shot of crashing waves. “This one’s beautiful.”
“Thanks.” His voice softens, and his hand moves to my hair, twisting a strand of red curls between his fingers. “I’d like to photograph you sometime.”
I snort. “What, like one of your French girls?”
He smirks. “Exactly like that. Naked, sprawled out, looking like sin.”
My laugh dies when his thumb brushes my cheek, his touch unexpectedly tender. “I’m serious, Daisy. You’d be stunning.Priceless.”
My throat tightens, so I lean forward and press a kiss to his chest, hoping it hides my sudden wave of… whatever this is. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
I hesitate. I hadn’t realized just how damaging Beau’s comment had been up until this very moment, but I can’t tell him that, so I simply say, “For making me feel… irresistible tonight.”
His hand cups my cheek, turning my face up to his. “You don’t need me for that,” he says quietly, and then his mouth is on mine. His kiss is soft at first, his lips moving slowly, but when his tongue dips into my mouth, I can’t stop the moan that escapes me.
“Stay the night,” he murmurs against my lips.
I pull back just enough to meet his eyes. “I don’t have clean clothes here.”
He grins. “I’ll find you something to wear. You’re not leaving.”
His certainty makes my stomach twist, but I nod. He kisses me again, harder this time, and his hand slides down to grab my ass.
“You’re making me hard again,” he mutters, his voice thick.
“I’m so wet for you,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can think about them.
His eyes darken, and in one swift motion, he flips me onto my stomach. “Stay there,” he orders, climbing on top of me.
His weight presses me into the mattress, his lips trailing over my back and neck. “You’d look so sexy marked up,” he murmurs, his teeth grazing my shoulder. “And then I could photograph you like that. All marked as mine.”
A whimper escapes me as his hand slides lower, his fingers brushing between my legs. I am tender and sore, but I still want him. I need him. “Kieran…”
“Shh, baby. I’ve got something you’ll like.”
I hear him rummaging in the nightstand, and when he returns, he’s holding a small bottle. “Cherry lube,” he says, smirking. “It’s red, like your hair. Now I’ll think of you every time I use it on myself.”
I laugh, even as my face heats. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re gorgeous,” he counters, spreading the lube over himself before rolling on a condom. “C’mere.”
He presses me back into the mattress, my stomach flush against the sheets, and slides into me slowly. The stretch is sharp and perfect, stealing the air from my lungs.
“You okay?” he asks, his hands braced on either side of me.
“Yeah,” I breathe.
“Good. Because tomorrow, before practice, we’re hitting the beach. I’m taking photos of you.”
It’s hard to form words when he’s moving inside me like that, each thrust a deliberate, deep stroke. “Okay,” I manage.
He stops moving suddenly, and I moan a little, wiggling hungrily.
He chuckles and then slaps my ass cheek… hard.
I gasp, but the pain and pleasure are all the same to me now. I twist to look back at him, and he grins at me.
