King's Ransom (Ruthless Doms 3)

“Of course, baby,” I tell her. I won’t admit it to her, but when she asks me like that, her eyes all lit up and sparkling, in that sweet voice of hers, I’d give her damn near anything.

After a few moments, she sighs and closes her eyes. I lay her foot gently down on the bed and take her other foot in hand, remove the shoe, and begin massaging that one as well. Between her soft skin beneath my fingers and the little sighs she lets out, I’m getting hard just watching her.

Her head falls to the side and I wonder at first if she’s sleeping, she’s so at rest and comfortable, until she speaks.

“Isn’t this a contradiction?”

“Contradiction?” I ask, rubbing my thumb in a circular motion, covering every inch of her skin.

“You’re the master,” she whispers, her voice pitching off into a yawn. “And I’m the slave. Yet you’re the one massaging my feet. Serving me.”

“Ahh. No, it’s not a contradiction. Not at all. Masters can serve their slaves. In fact, the sign of a good leader is the ability to be meek. To serve.”

Her eyes flutter open and she smiles softly at me. “Then you’re a good leader,” she whispers.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re here,” she explains. “Serving your brotherhood by finding out who’s behind all this.”

I shrug. I haven’t done anything for them until I’ve actually accomplished what I’ve set out to do. But she isn’t finished.

“Because you treat them all with this… paternal care or something. You watch out for them, instruct them, set a good example. They respect you, and that’s because you’ve earned that respect.” I don’t deserve her praise, and I shrug it off, but then she smiles at me. “You’re a good daddy, too.”

My already-hard dick tightens. Holding her gaze, I let my hands travel from her foot to her ankle. Pushing aside the fabric, I caress her bare skin. I love how her mouth parts and her breathing grows heavier. I’m impatient to have her again, to be inside her, to feel her hot, wet cunt and hear her moan in climax.

“Take ‘em off,” I say in a low, rumbling whisper.

“What? Take what off?”

“Everything.”

Her cheeks flush pink and she bites her lip, but she doesn’t hesitate to comply.

“Yes, daddy.”

As if she’s as eager as I am for this, her movements are frenzied, but my cock aches and I long to be balls-deep in her so badly I can’t wait for her. My hands dwarf hers as I yank off her clothes. We toss them in a tumbled heap onto the floor.

“Stay right here,” I instruct. Kneeling one knee beside her, I yank the bottom of my t-shirt and pull it off my hand, roll the fabric into a rope, lean down and twist it over her wrists. I pull it taut, then take a moment to admire her stunning, naked body on display before me. Her perfect dark skin, full breasts studded with hardened nipples, her rounded belly, and trim waist that give way to voluptuously curved hips. Her pretty tapered fingers fold above her head as if in prayer, her eyes meeting mine in challenge.

“You know, daddy,” she says thoughtfully, shooting me a teasing look. “I’d love to lick my way up and down that body of yours.” She swallows hard, her voice shaky and affected. “Those tats. Those muscles. I want to touch every inch of you and worship you with my mouth.”

She’s grown bold, and I have to admit. I love it. Taara owns what she wants. So brazen.

“Do you?” I ask, tracing my finger along the very edge of first one nipple, then the other. She moans and squirms, but the t-shirt holds fast. “I’m the one that’s supposed to do that.”

“Oh?” she says in a breathy whisper. “And why’s that, daddy?”

This girl knows how to play me like no one ever has.

I lean down and kiss her cheek, then take her earlobe between my teeth and bite, reveling in the way she bucks beneath me. “Because, baby,” I whisper in her ear, and though my words are a seductive whisper, I mean every one of them. “Daddy’s the one in charge.”

“Clearly,” she moans. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

I chuckle, while working her nipples between my fingers. “Of course. Someday, I’ll let you. Deal?”

“Deal,” she manages to croak out. I work my way from her ear to her cheek, kissing down her jaw to her neckline. When I reach the very top of her breasts, I drag my tongue lazily along her naked skin. She’s sweet and salty, and I can’t get enough of her.

“Do I taste good, daddy?” she whispers.

“I don’t know,” I respond, holding her eyes as I bring my lips further down her belly to her naval, where I lazily lap and suckle. “I haven’t tasted you yet.”