My Dad's Best Friend (A Touch of Taboo 3)

One more limit. Why is this man so obsessed with them? Most guys would take carte blanche and run with it, but each limit I put in place seems to reassure Jonas, so I try really hard to think of something else. “Um, I don’t want to do any blood play?” One of the characters in my favorite series had that particular kink, and while it was kind of hot to read about, it’s not something I’m overly interested in trying for myself.

Jonas sighs. “No animal role-play, no heavy pain, and no blood play. Baby girl, you’re leaving the field wide open.” He turns and pushes me down onto the bed. “Up to the headboard.”

I scramble to obey. He follows me, kneeling between my spread legs, and brackets my thighs with a strong grip, urging them farther apart. “You will continue to communicate if something makes you feel uncomfortable.”

There wasn’t a question in there, but I nod all the same. “Yes, Daddy.”

His grip falters on my thighs, and then tightens until I gasp. None of his thoughts show on his face, just a heat so intense I have to fight not to whimper. “That’s right, Blake. I’m your Daddy now, and it’s your job to make me happy.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Now lift that shirt and show your Daddy your pretty pussy.”

It doesn’t matter that he’s had his hands all over me at this point. It feels dirty and damn near unforgivable as I reach shaking hands to the hem of the shirt and pull it up a few inches, baring myself to him. I start to lift it more, but he shakes his head. “Stop there.”

I stop there.

“Now hold perfectly still and be silent.”

A simple enough command that becomes significantly less simple as he slides his hands up my thighs and parts my pussy with his thumbs. It’s humiliating to be spread like this, to have him tracing my most private area as if he’s examining me, judging me, weighing whether or not I am up to his standards. My hand are shaking so hard, I have to press them to my stomach. Or maybe it’s my entire body that’s shaking.

Jonas presses my folds away from my clit. He barely touches the bundle of nerves and I have to bite my lip hard to keep from moaning. “Needy little thing,” he murmurs, almost to himself. I can’t tell if he’s talking about me or my clit. I’m not sure it matters.

He moves back down to my opening, spreading me wide, and then down to my ass. His expression is almost completely neutral…as long as I don’t look at his eyes. They’re like blue flames, ready to consume me. Good. I want to be consumed by this man.

It’s only for the weekend, after all. A chance to get this intense attraction out of our systems so we can move on. Maybe then I’ll finally be able to put that encounter at the Christmas party out of my mind.

But not yet.

I drag in a breath as he tries my opening. “I—”

“Be silent, baby girl.” His gaze flicks to my face. “You wouldn’t want someone to hear.”

Just like that, he’s dragged me into a fantasy I’m not sure I had before this moment. I know we’re alone in his house, but it doesn’t matter, because the thought that I have to be quiet so no one knows what we’re doing is too intense to let go of. I worry my bottom lip and nod. “I’ll try.”

“Do better than try.” He pushes a single finger into me. A moment later, a second finger joins the first. I’m so wet, there’s no resistance at all as he begins to slowly stroke me. Testing me.

I still can’t believe this is happening. For how much Jonas seems to like telling me no, he’s certainly gone from zero to sixty in the space of an hour. Just how far are we going to go?

I want to know. I need to know.

“Did you know I spent the night at that party?”

The question catches me so off-guard, I tense. “Yes.” His presence under my parents’ roof had driven me to distraction. First because he drew me like a moth to flame, and then because even with rejection stinging like a wasp, I still wanted him. I lick my lips. “I fingered myself thinking about you that night.” I match his low tone, our words barely above whispers.

Jonas works a third finger into my pussy the same way he did the first two. Slowly. Methodically. “If I walked into the wrong room, I would have been treated to the same sight I got earlier.”

Me on my stomach, ass up as I fuck myself with my fingers.

I nod, barely daring to breathe. “Yes.”

“In your parents’ house, no less.” He shakes his head. “If I’d walked in and shut the door, what would you have done then, baby girl?”