I never knew I had a daddy kink. Those words spilling from his lips, and the friction between my legs, send a jolt of energy straight to my swollen clit. I grip his soft T-shirt and lean back, rolling my hips.
“Let me see how pretty you are when you come.” He tugs on my earlobe with his teeth.
My breathing grows ragged. The tension in my belly increases. My breasts swell as my nipples strain against the lacy black fabric of my bra. The additional sensation has my head spinning. I’ve been far too intimately acquainted with my fingers for longer than I care to admit. His woodsy scent hits me like an aphrodisiac. His hands slide up to my hips. He helps me catch a rhythm. I drag back and forth, sliding because my panties are soaked. I muffle a moan.
“No. I want to hear it all, sweet one. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”
I release a strangled moan, and he pinches my nipple and tugs. Jerking, I come—hard—body quivering as I sag in relief.
“So damn wet,” he growls, pressing my sensitive core into his leg. I rest my head against his chest, breathing hard. “Did you see what you did to my pants, sweet one?” I’m still twitching as he moves my body back and cups my neck, causing me to look down. The dark patch on his jeans makes me whimper. “I think we can do better than that.”
“What?” I look up.
He unbuttons the top of my jeans. “I think I can make you even wetter. Don’t you?”
Tell him to stop. He skims the top of my panties, and my protests die in the wake of my need. The flames of the fire in my belly begin to rage once more. His big hand slides down into my pants, and he cups my mound. “These panties are done for.” He presses his thick fingers together, squeezing my slippery lips. Trailing a knuckle down my cleft, he teases me. Our eyes lock. He shoves the thin scrap of lace to the side. The feeling of his flesh on mine is intoxicating. My body is on fire, and his hazel eyes are a mirror of my own want. His thumb circles around my sensitive clit. The walls of my pussy contract, empty and hungry for more. Increasing the pressure, he rubs harder.
“Close.”
“You’re close?”
“Y-Yes,” I whisper.
He hums and slows down his strokes.
“No,” I whine.
“Shhh. It’s going to be worth it in the end, sweet one.” He continues to bring me close—circling, rubbing my hard clit between his slippery fingers, and backing off. I’m thrusting my hips in silent demand, and he chuckles.
“You want to come?” he drawls seductively.
“Yes.” I grit my teeth as my cheeks flame with embarrassment. I’ve never been treated like this.
“Do it.” He circles fast, giving me the long-denied pressure, and something inside of me snaps. My inner walls spasm, and my body shakes as I reach my pinnacle. I gush, screaming as light explodes behind my eyelids.
“That’s my good girl.” His praise prolongs my pleasure as his touch gentles, and he strokes me down from my high.
This is spiraling out of control. I need to put a stop to it or come clean. How can I tell him that all this is more than pretense? His lips brush my forehead, and I relax into his larger frame. I’ll let him know after the deal is settled.
WEST
I’ve never resented Thomas Alby as much as I do right now. He called me out of the blue to come over to his room for drinks and an update. The last thing I wanted to do was leave when I had Adora limp and sated in my arms. The way she came for me so beautifully is still replaying in my brain. A week could never be enough for me. It’s not what we agreed upon, but she’s fast become an obsession. I sucked her sweet nectar off my fingers before cleaning up in the bathroom. I wouldn’t let anyone get a whiff of her musky honey.
Undoing the top button at my collar, I roll my shoulders. He wants answers I’m reluctant to give him. He’d blocked independent software companies who would’ve been in direct competition with us, bought out smaller businesses, and cannibalized them. The word got around. He’s tried to clean up his image in the past ten years, but as they say, the internet is forever. I’m not sure how he’ll take it. The man doesn’t like failure of any sort. I rub the back of my neck. I used to look up to him once. I was fresh out of school and grateful for the internship and later entry-level position at a big company. I had stars in my eyes. Mr. Alby could do no wrong. Even when he started pitting Porter and me against one another. I wrote it off as a healthy competition until Porter began trying to sabotage me. The lanky, pale-skinned Irish man wanted my head on a spike.
Coming to a stop outside of the hotel room, I put on my mask of indifference. It’s best not to let him see he’s gotten under your skin. I knock.
“Welcome, my boy! You have good news for me, I hope.” Alby waves me inside toward the table and chairs beside a window.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way of business. We enjoyed ourselves, but the business talk was constantly interrupted.”
Alby’s eyebrows come together. A severe scowl twists his wrinkled countenance into something sinister. “Inviting Adora along was a mistake, I see.”
“It was actually Priscila who liked to have the attention on her, sir.”
Alby sighs. “The things we put up with for family.” He sinks down into a chair, and I take a seat across from him. “Did he give you any indication on why he’s holding back?”
“He’s concerned about some of our past practices.”