Be My Babygirl

Together, we create a rhythm, a perfect one. Our bodies move together as if they were made for one another. My head feels light, perspiration dots my brow.

The beginning waves of an orgasm wash over me. My pussy wraps around his cock, my cries lodging in my throat as I tighten to the point of breaking. His hands are on my body, in my hair, his mouth devouring mine.

I come again, this time harder than before, the climax infinitely sweeter filled with his thick cock.

It’s a magnificent explosion of heat and light with an intensity I’ve not been able to match even with my Zumio eight speed. As the orgasm grows deeper, emotions well in my chest.

This is more than just sex.

It is to me, at least. I feel a connection, deep within my soul. Though I’ve only known this man for a matter of days, there’s a tie that binds me to him, and as I come, the tie strengthens.

I collapse against him with a shudder, clinging to his chest.

“Good girl. Now let me come for you.” He gives a low growl and a final thrust, holding my body tight to him as he comes. I welcome this, his pleasure at his peak, the knowledge that I gave this to him. I find myself wrapping in closer to him, my forehead resting on his shoulder as we catch our breath, recovering.

I inhale his scent—one that’s become familiar to me in such a short amount of time—and I place a soft kiss on his neck.

We sit side by side on the sofa for a few sweet moments, my head on his chest, his fingers trailing circles on the back of my arm. Until he hears my stomach growl.

He turns his head, looking down at me. “We need to feed you, my hungry little kitten. When is the last time you ate?”

“I guess in all the excitement, I skipped lunch.”

He looks at his phone. “Shall we order in?”

He’s given me so much, how could I ask for more? But I think of the rooftop restaurant, Opulence, the one I’ve seen in pictures on the internet when I was first researching his hotel, and I want to go.

“That’s fine. Ordering in is fine.” I say brightly, trying to hide my disappointment.

But he’s a good daddy, and he can read in my face that I've got other plans. He smiles. “Would you like to go out? I’ll admit, I wouldn’t mind showing you off a bit.”

“What? Your staff don’t see you with a new beautiful woman every night?” I tease.

He shakes his head. “Actually, they’re used to me dining alone, my head bowed over my ledgers as I crunch my numbers. They’ll be shocked to see me with a date. It’s been a while.”

I want to make him proud. To look like the woman he deserves as I hang on his arm and we make our way through the hotel—his hotel, the one he owns; I have to remind myself of that fact.

I think through all the clothes I stuffed into my bags as I hurried to pack. Sneaking a look at him in his black trousers and white button-down shirt, all my dresses now seem silly, frumpy. “I’m not sure… I’m not sure if I have anything appropriate for such a swanky place. Maybe we should order in.”

“Nonsense.” He stands, buckling his belt. Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, he tells me, “You go shower—I’ll take care of this.”

Who is he calling? And does he really have the power to make a gown appear from thin air? I stand from the couch, agreeing.

“Miranda. I need a favor.” Wanting to eavesdrop on his conversation, I make a show out of slowly peeling off my clothes, one article at a time, as I make my way towards the bedroom. Giving me a stern look he says into the phone, “Hold on one moment.”

He’s over to me in two long strides. His hand covers the mouthpiece of his cell. “Get yourself in the shower, young lady, and stop teasing your daddy.” He gives my bare ass a sharp smack.

Rising up on tiptoe, I squeak, “Yes, sir!” and scurry off to the master bathroom, unable to hear the rest of his phone call.

As I lather my skin, I imagine Miranda as my fairy godmother. She got me the carriage (limo), the ball (staying in this hotel), the man (daddy Darius), and now, I’m guessing she’s going to take care of the gown and the glass slippers.

When I emerge from the bathroom, wrapped in a huge white fluffy bathrobe, I find the bedroom empty.

Save for a masterpiece, hanging on the outside of the closet door.

A little gasp rises in my throat and my hand flutters to my chest. “It’s gorgeous.”

The dress is a light blue, sparkles dotting the material. Thick straps dive into a sweetheart neckline and the gown goes all the way down to the floor. There’s a pair of strappy gold sandals waiting for me.