Page 52 of Big Daddy Christmas
Even more so when that mischief gave way to worry, the kind only a submissive at the mercy of a skilled sadist truly knew. “We-we don’t have time for that, Holden. I just came over for a quick fuck.”
“We have as much time as we need, little siren.” Releasing his hold on her hands, he lowered to his knees in front of her and pressed a kiss to her satin-covered mound, just below the embroidered bundle of mistletoe. “I’ll have to thank Lottie for these when I see her.”
“Oh my god.” Groaning, she slid her fingers into his hair. “Please, Daddy. I’m dying here.”
“Well, that will never do.” Hooking his fingers in her panties, he dragged them over her hips, down her long, lean legs until they pooled on the ground around her feet. When she was finally stripped bare, he pulled the toy from between her soaked lips and tucked it into his pocket for later.
“You don’t have to ask permission, baby. Come whenever you want.”
“Thank fuck.”
Her relief would be short-lived, but he kept that information to himself as he draped one leg over his shoulder and inhaled the scent of her. Impatient hands tugged at his hair, pulling him closer, and he chuckled quietly. If she had any clue what he had planned for her, she wouldn’t be so eager to begin.
Sliding his hands up to grip her ass, he lowered his head to her dripping cunt, running his tongue up between her lips. Her gasp echoed around the room as a delicate shudder wracked her body.
And then he got to work.
Holding her close, he used everything he’d learned about his wife over the past months to drive her straight up to her peak—and then right over the edge without pause. Now it was her screams echoing in his ears as she bucked and writhed against the wall, the sweet ambrosia of her arousal coating his tongue.
But he didn’t stop, even when her screams turned to whimpers and she tugged at his hair, now trying to pull him away instead of closer.
“Daddy…”
His cock jerked in his pants at the sound of her needy whine. God, he loved it when she begged, whether it was for her pleasure or for his mercy. Or, as he was certain was the case more often than not, when she didn’t actually know which she wanted.
“Daddy, please. Please, I can’t. It’s too much.”
Mercy, then.
Too bad for her she’d been such a fucking brat.
As her pleading grew more frantic, he pulled the swollen nub of her clit between his teeth and sucked, gently at first, but more persistently as she sobbed and begged for him to stop. He didn’t, of course, not even when she shattered again, her hips bucking against his mouth as her body quaked with pleasure.
Pulling one hand away from her firm, round ass, he slipped two fingers into her pussy, crooking them forward to hit that spot inside her, the one he knew would wreck her in all the best possible ways.
And as he’d known she would, she sobbed out another plea, begging him to stop. Promising to be his good girl forever, that she’d learned her lesson.
She hadn’t, of course. His little siren almost never did, especially when it came to getting what she wanted. There were rules she respected and abided by, especially where her health and safety were concerned.
But when her pleasure was involved? She was a force to be reckoned with.
Unfortunately for her, so was he.
Chapter 10
Frankie
He was going to kill her. Drown her in want until she couldn’t breathe. Tear her to shreds, body and soul, with the double-edged swords of pain and pleasure.
She’d lost count of how many times she’d come. All she knew was that she’d screamed herself raw, and that it would be a miracle if her hair and makeup didn’t need some major help when he was through with her.
But she didn’t care. Her entire focus, her entire world had narrowed to just her Daddy and the agonizing pleasure he was forcing on her with every swipe of his tongue, every nip of his teeth, every stroke of his fingers.
Until, at long last, he released his hold on her and rose slowly to his feet, towering over her as her heart thundered in her chest. “My beautiful wife. Are you going to be a good girl for Daddy now, or do I need to get mean?”
Get mean? Whatever he meant by that, she prayed she never learned exactly how mean he could get. “N-no, Daddy. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I p-promise.”
His low, dark laughter rippled across her skin as he freed himself from his pants. And everything in her trembled as he gripped her hips, hoisting her up so he could sink slowly into her aching heat, inch by torturous inch. “I believe you, baby. But you’ve had your pleasure. Now it’s Daddy’s turn.”
