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His mouth skims mine, and I feel it down to my toes like it’s the deepest, hungriest kiss. “I think you can’t help being bad. I think you like to push my buttons, flaunt that sweet ass at me. Tempt me.”
A shiver races down my spine. The game bites into me in all the right places, and I almost sigh as I slip a hand up along his sweater, loving the heat and hardness of his muscles.
I want…
I want to deep dive into him. Into this game. I want to sample all parts of it, see if I want them all or if one appeals more.
“No, I’m not trying to tempt you.” I raise my head up, seeking his mouth again as he slides a thigh between mine. In that moment, I hate that I showered and put on the sweatpants and oversize sweater that waited for me in here. I want to feel his skin against mine. Now. Forever.
His free hand closes around the hair at the base of my skull and he pulls it back, my head popping up, exposing my neck. He bites me, soft nips under my chin. “Don’t lie to me. You live to be bad. And you’re trying to break me down and make me take you.”
A dark thrill ripples through me. I shift, pulling at his belt, and I’m rewarded with a hiss of air.
The hand on my throat slides down to my covered pussy and he rubs it over the thick fabric. “Liar. I bet if I put my hand in your pants I’d find out the truth.”
I thrust into the heel of his hand. “Is it wrong to be turned on?”
“You’re forgetting a word, little girl.”
“Daddy.”
It hangs there, full of taboo wonder. There’s nothing fatherlike about him. It’s the act of calling him that word, of control and belonging in all the wrong and delicious ways. I want to be his favorite. His little girl. I want him to punish and reward. I want everything he has to give, no matter how long or short our time together might be.
I want this man whose last name I don’t know. Who might be lying about his first. A man I know nothing about, and one who knows about me.
There’s a deep, wild pull there. Erotic and compelling.
He continues to work my pussy, pushing at it with his hand as I grind into him, his fingers forming a ridge I can rub against. And my heart beats harder, faster, the blood in me swirling down to feed the growing need in my clit, my pussy, parts of me that are so alive in ways I could never have imagined before now.
Jaxson captures my lips, teasing them apart in a filthy, deep kiss, one that’s as raw, bloody, and hot as a kiss can be. He strips me naked to the soul with that kiss, his tongue teasing and taunting mine, even as he pulls back to make me chase him, only to begin the onslaught again.
Slowly, he starts a deliberate trail of hot kisses down my throat, sucking here and there, each deep bite and suck against my flesh weakening my knees.
“Get on the bed, baby girl.”
But I don’t listen. As he steps back, breaking contact, I drop to my knees and start to tug at his clothes.
He grabs my hand and presses it against his hard, huge cock.
“Is this what you do to all the boys?” His words are soft, measured, but he releases my hand and strokes over the top of my head. “Tempt them like this?”
“Only you, Daddy.”
I wait, hand still where he put it, and he rewards me with a tiny smile as he looks down at me. “Then do your best.”
I hiss out a breath and go for the belt, undoing it and pulling his pants and boxer briefs down. His beautiful cock springs free. I take it into my mouth like a kid with a lollipop.
I lick along the sides, tasting him, learning him, and I push my other hand up under his sweater because I need to feel the naked silk over the steel of his body. And oh Lord, he feels better, flesh against flesh, than I dared imagine.
Sitting back on my heels, I take him in deep, my eyes latched on to the long, strong lines of his thighs. On one leg there are tattoos tangling down a jumble of images that work together to form a canvas of beautiful horror. Demons and twisted bodies. There are dates and words and I want to start at his toes, examine and touch him, caress him, all the way up.
But he grips my hair. “Don’t start what you can’t finish, little girl.”
So I take him in my mouth, stretching to accommodate him. I’m ready to go slow, to explore.
He’s not.
Jaxson takes my head and uses me, hammering into me, down to the back of my throat where he holds himself, making my gag reflex kick on.
