Page 47 of Ace

Ace chuckled, with his mouth still closed over her nipple. “Naughty,” she heard him mutter. “Naughty, naughty girl.”

“I can’t help it,” she moaned. “You are driving me crazy, and you’re doing it on purpose.”

“You bet I am.” Ace pulled away, and looked up, grinning like the devil.

Her breath hitched in her chest as he scooted closer to her and pushed her legs wider apart. Finally.

His hands left her stomach, and glided down to her mound, finding her swollen clit. He flicked it with the hard pad of his thumb and squeezed it between his fingers. Heat rose in her core, and blood pounded in her ears.

The anticipation had been building for so long, all her stamina was gone, drained into nothingness. He reached between her legs to her soft folds, and pushed a finger inside of her, strumming her like a guitar. He barely touched her before she was coming undone in his arms.

He didn’t stop, continuing to push her toward ecstasy, barreling toward a screaming orgasm.

“Daddy!” she screeched. She tried to push away but he held her tightly, fucking her with his fingers until she couldn’t take it anymore, until her whole body felt like lava boiling beneath the surface of a volcano.

And erupt she did.

Her back arched and her body bucked as she rode the waves of orgasm. Water splashed out of the tub and onto the tile floor. Her Daddy just kept touching and teasing, determined to pull every last staccato of ecstasy from her body.

And then, when she was nothing more than a trembling weeping pile of nerves on fire, he stood and lifted her from the tub. Bubbles cascaded down their bodies and onto the floor, and Ace didn’t do much more than grab a towel from the rack and throw it over her body.

“Daddy,” she said when they reached the bedroom, “I didn’t get to wash you.”

“I’m clean enough. Besides, I brought the soap with me.”

He uncurled his fist to reveal a mid-sized bar of fresh white soap, lathered from the wetness of his hand and for a split second she wondered why, and then she remembered. And suddenly the idea didn’t seem quite so sexy as it had when she was still hard up, shaking with need for his cock.

He threw the towel on the floor in front of the bed and placed her on her feet on top of it. “Kneel. I’m going to show you what happens to naughty girls with dirty mouths.”

A whimper escaped her lips as she fell to her knees in front of him, and watched as he rubbed the bar of soap against the length and head of his cock. A thin, soapy film formed on the soft pink skin.

Her mouth fell open and she looked up at him with wide eyes, full of uncertainty. She’d given blow jobs before but never like this.

“Naughty words during sex… never mind.” She’d been about to argue that anything said in the throes of passion shouldn’t count against her and then remembered the naughty words she’d let slip earlier in the day.

“What were you saying, babygirl?” Ace looked genuinely curious.

“Nothing.” She sighed. “I was gonna, but I remembered that I did cuss today. Before the bathtub.”

“Ah. So you definitely deserve this. You need Daddy’s soapy cock in your mouth to teach you a lesson.”

“Uh… I guess so,” Lizzie said, because what else could she really say? How on earth did one respond to a comment like that one?

“Suck it,” Ace growled, reaching to place his hands on the back of her head, and pull her mouth to the head of his cock.

The moment her lips closed over the soapy surface she started to gag. Bubbles filled her mouth and the starchy scent burned her nostrils.

And yet, somehow, she was turned on. Kneeling at her Daddy’s feet with water from the bath still dripping from her body, her pulse pounding and throbbing between her legs, his hands tangled in her hair and being forced to take his massive soapy cock while being told what a naughty, naughty girl she was did something for her.

Which probably meant she was fucked in the head.

He pushed deeper into her mouth and bubbles invaded the back of her throat. Tears leapt to her eyes, and she gurgled, probably slobbering all over his cock but the truth was she’d much prefer this kind of humiliating impossible punishment over a spanking any day. Not that that was her choice, because as she was quickly and painfully learning, she was not the one in charge.

“Take it babygirl. Let Daddy’s cock wash that dirty mouth.”

His filthy encouragement spurned her forward and she began to suck with gusto, breathing through her nose to mentally push past the soapy taste. His cock was a dichotomy of soft skin and hard erection, and the contrast gave her something—anything—to concentrate on besides the soapy film coating the inside of her mouth.

It was a very special excruciating sort of torture but she loved it, and him. So she took it, every soapy inch of his cock, and worshiped it on her knees. She cupped his balls and squeezed, gently massaging them, as he wrapped her other hand around the base of his cock and stroked with her hand and mouth.