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He moves lower and I’m in heaven, rocking in bliss. The pleasure each thrust of his fingers makes me shake and moan and his words turn me on even more, a layer to the dark pleasure.
And then he stops, pulls free, and rolls onto his back.
“Get my cock out and ride me, baby girl. Ride me hard.”
Shaking, I undo his belt, his fly, and he’s so hard all over again. I climb on top of him and sink down. I bounce on him, rotating my hips as I go, grinding hard onto him. But he doesn’t touch me.
“Make Daddy come. Serve Daddy, but you don’t get to come.”
“I’ll try, Daddy.” I spread my hands on his chest, all that muscled, inked flesh, and I ride him as hard as I can, squeezing my muscles tight.
He feels so good that I start to lose control, the orgasm spilling, a pressure inside me building, and he pulls me off him. “Sit on my face, show me what a slut you are. Show me.”
My legs are weak and I keep falling as I try to climb him. He grabs my thighs and slams me down on his face, and he starts to fuck my ass with a finger and my pussy with his tongue.
“Oh, Daddy…”
I can’t. I can’t stop the sensations that roll through me, and he moves up to my clit, sucking and licking as he hammers my ass with his finger. I come in a wild explosion. “Daddy!”
He doesn’t stop. It’s too much. He holds me in place, clamping me with one hand, and he’s relentless with my ass and my clit. This time the wave is stronger. And the next. I’m crying, screaming, hitting him, pleading him to let go when it all changes.
The wave is slow and big and it engulfs the orgasm he’s forcing on me with another, and another. They morph into a huge thing, something that cuts me open and makes me sing, even as I shatter. I grind hard on him, pushing onto his finger, onto his mouth smashing my clit into him, needing more as everything is crooning and bright and buzzing with pleasure that promises yet another orgasm.
When it comes, it’s like I’ve been hit with a bolt of live electricity. I scream and buck and shake as every part of me is something of absolute bliss. Spots of color and black burst in my eyes and shaking, I slump onto him.
I can’t move and he has to ease me off him, then tuck me in bed. He strips and I wave a hand through the air and giggle. Then I cry. And laugh again. Everything is shifting in me; little tremors of pleasure rock my insides. He slides into bed, holding me.
“I hate you and I love you.”
“You’re wasted.”
“Noooo,” I say, slurring and giggling. “No drink.”
“Subspace, Dakota.” He slides his hand on my stomach. “That’s why you feel like this. You mentally went somewhere. It’ll pass.”
“Is this goodbye?”
He kisses my shoulder and turns out the light and I manage to wiggle into the heat of him. But he still doesn’t answer my question. I decide not to ask it again.
“You didn’t come.”
“I’ll survive,” Orion says. “But don’t worry. This will all be over soon. Then you’ll be safe.”
I think I pass out, but when I wake in the night, he’s sleeping. I’m sticky. I ache. We had sex at some point; he took me from behind. That was Dakota and Orion again. No game.
It felt bitter and sad and like a goodbye, and I’d prefer not to be here in the morning, so I dress and head for the door. I’m about to open it when something makes me turn.
Orion is there, unbuttoned jeans on.
“Going somewhere?”
THIRTY-SEVEN
orion
Something in her snaps. I can see it on her face. I fold my arms to stop myself from walking to her. Instead, I wait.
“I changed my mind. I’m not going,” she says.
