The Daddy Box Set

He groaned. “Don’t move like that.”

I smiled. “Ian, I was thinking that maybe we should address other more important matters before we try to come up with some master plan.”

“No, I’m sorry. I’ll focus. Go ahead,” he said through gritted teeth. I knew he was trying to will his erection away.

“I’d rather do something else instead. I don’t want to think about that anymore. I want you, Ian. I need you inside me. I want your mouth on me.” I used my best sexy voice, hoping to convince him to fuck me senseless. I was tired of dwelling on that other matter. I needed him to remind me why we had risked it all, and in my case at least, thrown everything away.

“Maria?” he said her name, questioning, even as his hands were running up my t-shirt.

“Gone until tonight,” I breathed, the shivers of arousal already moving over my body in anticipation.

His hand gently moved up and down my arm. My skin felt flushed, and I could feel my body revving up in anticipation of what I knew was coming.

“I’ve never wanted anyone so much, Tessa.” His voice was barely above a whisper. His breath parted my hair as he spoke, brushing over my ear and leaving a trail of gooseflesh trailing down my neck to tickle my spine.

I turned to face him; I needed to taste him. I pressed my lips to his. I didn’t know what I wanted for sure. I knew he would know how to quench the fire that had spun me into this ravenous woman who couldn’t seem to function properly without him buried inside me. I wanted sex, that was a given, but it felt like this wild, adventurous woman was screaming deep inside me for release. She wanted out, but I couldn’t figure out how to release her. Instinctively, I was certain that Ian would know.

He shifted me off his lap, gently placing me beside him on the couch before he came over me, kissing me like a man who’d been denied for years. His hunger was tickling that woman inside me, but it wasn’t enough to spring the door. I needed more.

My hands reached under his shirt, slowly at first, but then his kiss deepened, and I lost all hope of taking it slow and easy.

“Take it off,” I demanded, yanking and pulling with no progress.

He leaned back and yanked off his shirt, before diving back in to hold me.

“My shirt,” I complained. It was in the way. I wanted it off. I wanted his hands on me. I needed to feel his chest hair scratching against my too-sensitive breasts.

He pulled back, stood and reached out a hand to pull me up. With agonizingly slow movements, he slid my shirt up and over my head. I fought the urge to tear it off. I hadn’t bothered putting on a bra this morning, for which I was ever so grateful for now.

He stood back, looking at my naked breasts, the nipples hard and jutting out, begging for his touch. I reached out to touch him. He shook his head, telling me no without saying the words.

“Take off your leggings,” he ordered, stepping back a few more inches. The distance between our bodies was killing me. I quickly started tugging the leggings down over my thighs.

“Slowly,” he said, speaking the word on an exhaled breath.

I immediately stopped my wiggling and looked up at him. That woman who had been screaming to come out and play took over. I shut down any inhibitions that tried to block her way. I wanted to cross this line with Ian as my lover.

I stepped out of one leg and turned around, putting my back to him and bent over, my hand resting on the seat of the couch for balance. I slowly arched my back, giving him full view of my sex, barely covered by the tiny black thong I was wearing.

“Good God,” he moaned, but he didn’t move towards me.

I used my bare foot to pull the legging off my other leg, still bent over, my hair hanging loosely down my back. Once I was free of the fabric, I stood and slowly turned around, facing him in nothing more than my thong. I stared at the erection perfectly outlined in his jeans.

“The panties,” he said, in a guttural voice.

I looked down at myself, placed a hand in between my breasts before moving a finger to my nipple, circling it and gently pinching it between my thumb and forefinger. I moved to the other side and repeated the action. I watched him watch me. It emboldened me. I slid the tips of my fingers down the center of my abdomen. His sharp intake of breath gave me courage to keep moving. My fingers rimmed the top of the triangle of fabric covering my pussy before disappearing under the black satin.

“Fuck me,” he moaned.

I looked up, met his eyes before his dropped down to where my fingers were slowly moving under the fabric. Remembering the way he used his own fingers, I slowly pushed one finger in and moaned with ecstasy.

“Take them off.”

That sensual woman was in control now, and she wasn’t ready to relinquish it to him. I slowly shook my head before pushing deeper. His eyes jerked upwards, holding mine a brief second before my head fell back, my hair brushing over my bare back. My other hand came up to cup my breast, kneading it in time with the motion of my finger moving in and out of my slick entrance.

“Tessa,” he said in a voice that sounded as if he was choking.

I focused my gaze on him again, before removing my finger and slowly moving my hand to the ti