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“Do you like touching your pussy in my lap?”
Her lashes fluttered. “Fuck…yes.”
I let myself stroke her silky thighs, sliding my hands up over her hips. Her fingers worked quickly and her stomach tensed, a faint wet sound coming from between us.
“Tell me,” I urged. “Tell me how it feels.”
Her lids flickered, her eyes rolling back. “I feel so safe.”
“Enough to come for me?”
“Yes, sir,” she gasped.
My other hand came up and cradled her head, bending her so she had to look me in the eyes. She was panting, her stare glazed.
“Don’t call me sir,” I whispered. “Say what you really want to say.”
It was rare that I allowed anyone to make me their fantasy. But I had no self control when it came to Clara. I knew that we were playing with fire, but I was drunk on her, ready to get hurt just to feel her trust.
She kept touching herself and her lips moved, but no sound came out.
“I can’t hear you,” I said softly.
She swallowed and her mouth parted.
“Daddy,” she whispered.
I brushed her hair behind her ears. “I’m here, cariad.”
Her eyes closed and her head fell back again. Lovely throat curving, breasts pushed into my face. Her fingers slowed as she played with herself and I realized she had her fingers in her pussy. Working that sweet spot from inside.
“Do you like calling me that?”
She bit her lip, nodding.
“Don’t be embarrassed.” My voice was thick. “Call me whatever makes you feel safe. Tonight I’ll be anything you need me to be, baby girl.”
She gasped, hips grinding in my lap. “Then, yes, I want to call you daddy.”
My resolve shattered. I felt it crack like a physical sensation. What did it matter anyway? What was one more time with her when we’d fucked so much over the last week?
My hand shot out and gripped her wrist. Eyes locked, heart thumping, I pulled her hand from between her thighs. She whimpered softly and I took her fingers in my mouth and licked them clean.
Sweet tartness blossomed over my tongue and any shreds of my resistance faded. Reckless, I pushed two fingers into her soaked pussy and found that sweet spot. Her lids flickered and her head fell back as she surrendered to me.
My mouth brushed her throat, kissing her softly.
“Come for me, baby girl,” I breathed. “I paid for every plate in this restaurant to leave twice over. This is the most expensive orgasm you’ve ever had so let me make it fucking good.”
Her breasts heaved and her hips shuddered. Slippery wetness dripped down my knuckles. My thumb found her swollen clit and worked it in slow circles.
She tightened around me, gripping me like a vise. Her slick muscles pumped around me, getting tighter and tighter, but never releasing.
Her body was shaking, unable to get over the edge. I slowed my pace and took her left nipple in my mouth. Her eyes flew open and her throat and cheeks flushed dark pink as she let out a desperate wail.
But she didn’t come.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I can’t get there.”
