He began humming again, and he wasn’t careful now either. Actually, that was wrong. He was careful with how he brushed my teeth. It was his grip on me and how he used his fingers that displayed his no-nonsense attitude. He slipped two fingers into my mouth and stroked my tongue. Then the insides of my cheeks, under my tongue, and the roof of my mouth.
“Soft and wet, just how I like the holes I fuck,” he murmured absently. I almost coughed. He had to let me—oh, thank goodness. He bent me over the sink before I could drool all over myself, and he cupped his hand under the water. Filled it and washed the inside of my mouth. He wasn’t screwing around with this. His doll couldn’t very well spit.
After he deemed me ready, he turned off the water and straightened me once more. He held my mouth open and felt around inside it again. Only, this time, he went deeper.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He went slowly, but he wasn’t stopping. Along my tongue, he slid two fingers till he reached the back of my throat.
Don’t gag.
“I should be able to fit it all in there,” he muttered.
If he didn’t fuck me soon, I was gonna cry.
I heard him open a cabinet, then something else. A bottle or a jar. “Fuck, I forgot to check the mail at home. I’ll have to do that tomorrow. Goddammit.” He sighed and grabbed my shoulder, only to turn me around. “They better not have left the package on the stoop again.”
I swallowed a gasp as he busied himself with applying some sort of cream to my asshole. First just a swipe of his thumb, then a couple digits gliding inside.
“There. Bedtime.” He smacked my butt and guided me out of the bathroom, where an ice-cold chill from the AC hit my naked body. “Eyes open. We’re going upstairs.”
I walked robotically toward the stepladder, and he directed me to stand at the center of the little platform on the floor. Then he planted his feet outside of mine and gripped the handlebar that moved along the ladder’s framework, and he switched on the elevator function to take us upward.
I eyed Daddy’s arms from the corner of my eye, noticing his muscles straining. Not that it stopped him from holding on with only one hand so he could touch my butt.
It was a slow but steady ride, eventually revealing the loft. Straight ahead, I saw nothing but two velvet-covered chairs. One side of the loft belonged to Lucian, the other to Daddy, and the two ends were sealed off with thick curtains.
Last time we’d spent the night, Cameron and I had slept in Daddy’s bed while he’d slept with Lucian.
The bed took up most of the space in each end. They each had a dresser at the foot of their bed, though that was it. Aside from nightstands. And since they were spending more time here at the moment, some luggage lined the slanted walls.
Daddy grunted as he pulled down the duvet. He was tired. Maybe he was even in pain, and I didn’t like it one bit. I wanted to help him. I could get him comfortable in bed before returning to the play. But he’d given me clear instructions, so I kept my mouth shut.
I knew what he was gonna do the second he tugged me closer to him, and I was right. He merely pushed me down, and I faceplanted on the mattress. A quick grin spread across my face—I couldn’t fucking help it—but it was hidden against the sheet.
“Christ,” he hissed.
I tensed up. He was in pain!
“It’s all right, freckles.” He must’ve noticed my posture. “I’m okay.” He was rounding the bed. I just wanted him to sit down already. “It’s only spasms. It happens sometimes. I have medication for it—helps relax my muscles.”
I wasn’t convinced, but I calmed myself down as soon as he was seated on the edge of the bed.
“It’s all good.” He popped open a bottle where I heard the pills rattle, and then he reached for a glass of water on the nightstand.
His sigh of contentment that followed finally put me at ease. I didn’t know how long it took for the meds to kick in, but I was sure being able to sit down offered plenty of relief.
After dropping his towel on the floor, he repositioned himself on the bed and literally dragged me to him. He rolled me onto my back and placed my arms along my sides. Then he scooted closer, pulled the duvet over his lower body, and slipped a pillow under my head.
He hadn’t bothered closing the curtain, so we had a little bit of light from a lamp by those chairs at the center of the loft. I wanted to look at Daddy, but I figured I’d broken character enough. So I looked up at the high ceiling instead, right in the middle where the two sides of the ceiling met.