My Favorite Daddy (Dark Daddies 6)

But the thought of being on my knees while I call him Daddy, his cock in my mouth, his hard cock ready to slide between my legs, it drives me insane.

I hear him come out behind me. “Aria,” he says.

I turn to him. I blink and stare into his green eyes. He steps closer.

“Say it,” he whispers.

“I can’t.”

He steps closer. Inches away from me. I feel his hands on my hips.

“Say it.”

I groan. It slips past my lips. I feel him pull me against his strong body, his muscular chest, his powerful hands. His lips graze my throat.

“Say it,” he repeats.

“Oh, god,” I whisper.

“Say it.”

I meet his gaze again.

“Daddy.”

His lips press against mine. The kiss takes me by surprise but feels so right. I’ve never kissed a client before, but Brady isn’t a client, not exactly. He’s something else entirely.

I don’t know what he is and I’m afraid of it. But I know I can’t help myself.

His kiss tastes incredible, feels incredible. I’ve needed this since the moment I saw him, and now that he’s finally kissing me, it’s even better than I could’ve guessed.

“That’s right,” he says softly. “One week and you’re all mine.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I whisper.

It’s a mistake. It’s stupid, reckless, absurd. I should run away.

But maybe it’s good. This is what I do, I give men what they need to feel good. Maybe this is just what he needs. It’s something I’ve never experienced before, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad.

I’m going to call him Daddy for one whole week and find out just how far I’m willing to go.4BradyThe next morning, Aria meets me at a coffee shop around the corner from my apartment. “Cute spot,” she says.

“I think so.” I order two coffees and hand her one. “I almost didn’t expect you to show up.”

“I keep surprising you then.”

“Yes, you do.” I give her a little smile. “Come on. Let’s go.”

She follows me down the block toward my apartment. “You live here?”

“I have an apartment in the building up there.” I nod at the apartment complex, a brand new and modern place. “I guess that’s a little disingenuous. I own the whole building.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You own an apartment complex?”

“Sure. Just one of a bunch of investments I have all over the city.”

“I never pegged you as the landlord type.”

“Oh, I’m very hands-off.”

“I bet you are.”

I laugh as we approach my building. I hold the door open for her and we head right back to the elevators.

“Michael actually convinced me to do this,” I tell her as I swipe my key card before the elevator will let us ride up to the top floor. “He’s always going on about sound investments.”

“Sounds like him.”

“If I had it my way, I’d just give half my cash away and be done with it.”

She gives me a look. “Oh, yeah. You’re so charitable.”

I laugh softly at her. Little does she know.

The doors open right into my apartment. I have the entire top floor. Calling it an apartment’s something of an understatement, really. I have five bedrooms, three bathrooms, a full, modern kitchen, a large living room, and a small home gym, plus a balcony the length of one side of the building and another deck space on the roof.

We step into my living room. The couch runs along the center of the room with a coffee table and a large rug filling the space. There’s a television mounted above the fireplace tuned to some random channel with pretty landscape pictures.

“Nice place,” she says, looking around.

“Thanks. Want the tour?”

She shrugs. “Sure.”

I take her through the place. We linger in the kitchen as I show her my chef’s knives and exotic spices. “You like to cook?” she asks.

“I try to,” I say. “Not great, though.”

“Best part of any kitchen is a man that’s willing to use it.”

I laugh softly. “Never heard that before.”

“It’s straight from my brain.”

I lead her down the hall and show her the rooms, the gym, the balcony. We look out over at the city and she’s quiet for a little while, enjoying the view.

I lean back against the wall and watch her. Aria is beautiful, long and lean, even though she’s not particularly tall. There’s something about her, something graceful, like she was a dancer when she was younger. Her body is tight but full where it counts and I’m tempted to grab her hips, push her up against the railing, pull down her jeans, feel that thick ass in my hands.

I want to grip her hard. I want to make her gasp as my fingers dig into her skin and my lips press against hers.

Fucking hell, she drives me wild just watching her.

She looks over her shoulder and catches me staring. I don’t bother to look away and her cheeks turn slightly red. I think she knows exactly what I was thinking.