Please, Daddy (Jackson Family 2) - Page 4

I shakily stood to my feet with the help of the two women. Without a word, he knelt and lifted me into his arms, striding towards the back where the rooms were located. Once we were inside of a room, he kicked the door shut and ordered me to sit on the couch. “You good?” he asked me once we were alone.

I nodded. He frowned at me but surprisingly didn’t comment on the fact that I didn’t verbally answer him. Instead, he focused back on his phone, muttering a curse as he pulled it up to his ear.

“First of all, I want a goddamn flip phone.” I couldn’t help it. I laughed, which wasn’t something I did often, so it was throaty rather than the lighter laugh of normal women. He looked over at me in surprise, and his lips tilted up the slightest bit, making my heart skip a beat in my chest. He didn’t look so damn terrifying when he smiled. “Second, you’ve got a problem at your club. Just found one of the doms holding one of the girls down against her will. His spine is snapped.” I swallowed thickly at that news. He paced the room, stopping to stare at the wall. “Don’t give a fuck, James. Get clean up.”

He grunted and hung up a moment later before tossing his phone on the chair nearest him and turning to face me. “First, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said quietly. His voice was low and gravelly, like he wasn’t used to talking in such a quiet tone. “I would never put my fucking hands on a woman like I did that son of a bitch out there.”

I stayed quiet. He gestured to the couch I was sitting on. “You mind if I sit down with you, or would you prefer for me to stay over here?”

I swallowed in surprise that he was actually giving me a choice and slowly placed my hand on the couch to show he could sit beside me. He nodded once and strode over, taking a seat near me. He was even bigger up close. The man was pure muscle, his shoulders wide, his arms thick, straining against the sleeves of his t-shirt.

He opened his mouth to say something, but a knock sounded on the door. With a growl, he stood up and walked over, flinging the door open. “What, Gemma?” he snapped.

She thrust him my contract, swallowing thickly. “I didn’t realize you’d gotten out,” she whispered, keeping her eyes cast away from him. “Welcome home, Mr. Jackson.”

He snatched my contract from her. “Leave us,” he ordered right before he stepped back and shut the door in her face.

I watched as he stood there for a moment, flipping through the contract before he set it on the table and took a seat next to me again. “You don’t speak much, do you?” he asked me, those blue eyes so intent it was like he could see straight into my soul.

I licked my lips and shook my head. I’d learned a long time ago that keeping my mouth shut was an essential part of my submission. Men didn’t like to hear me talk. The only time my mouth should be open was when I was getting a dick shoved down my throat.

He reached up and brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. My breath hitched in my throat, and before I could stop myself, I flicked my tongue out against his thumb, my nipples hardening beneath the thin top I was wearing.

And he took notice of it.

He growled softly, his eyes darkening to an almost gray color. My core clenched, my breasts getting heavier, begging for his touch, his mouth. “Naughty little thing, though, aren’t you?” he rasped. He ran his eyes over me. Though I was fully clothed, I felt completely naked and extremely vulnerable in front of him. “I want to take care of you, little girl,” oh, God, that name, “but I need to know your name first.”

I flickered my eyes towards the contract, silently telling him where he could find it. His lips tilted up the tiniest bit in a smirk so fucking hot that my body trembled. “I want to hear it from those lips, baby.”

Fear sent me crashing back to Earth. “Aht,” he soothed, sliding his hands up my thighs, his palms rough against my smooth skin. “Look at me.” I instantly snapped my eyes up to his. “There’s no reason to be afraid with me, little girl. I’ll never hurt you, understand me?” I slowly nodded my head, trusting him for some reason. “Good girl,” he rumbled. “Tell me your name, and I’ll reward you like the good girl I know you can be.”

I licked my lips and forced my lips to form the word, talking feeling extremely foreign to me. “Juliana,” I managed, my voice rough and scratchy from not being used in so long.

His eyes lit up, and suddenly, I wanted to do anything I could to make him always look at me like this, though I knew this would most likely only be a one-time thing between us.

“That’s my good girl,” he rumbled. My core clenched at his praise. He gripped the edge of my shorts and slowly slid them down. “This okay?”

I nodded, lifting my hips so he could pull them off of me completely. My thong went next, and he dropped it to the floor with my shorts. He moved closer and slipped my shirt over my head, a pleased rumble sounding from his chest when he saw I didn’t have a bra on.

“Lie back,” he commanded, placing his hand on my chest. As I slowly laid back on the couch, his hand slid down over my chest, between my breasts, over my stomach, finally coming to rest right between my legs. My breath left me in a hiss, my body needing his touch so much that it almost hurt.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he growled. He looked up at me, those dark eyes sucking me in. “What’s your safe word?” he asked me.

No one had ever asked me that before. I frowned at him, knowing it was in my contract, but he wanted to hear the words from my lips.

“Black,” I whispered.

He pressed his thumb to my clit as a reward. I moaned, my eyes shutting. He took his thumb away. I whimpered, looking back up at him, wondering what I had done wrong. “Good girl. Eyes always on me,” he told me. I nodded in answer. He made a humming sound, circling his thumb over my clit. My lips parted, my back arching. “I know you’re not that quiet, baby,” he said softly, his eyes still on mine.

Joke was on him. I could always be silent.

As if he could read my mind, his eyes lit up in a challenge. My belly clenched. I had a feeling this man was about to make me second guess everything I thought I had known about myself.

And I was right.

The moment his head descended between my legs and those magical lips wrapped around my clit, two fingers sliding inside of me and curving just right, I cried out, my voice shocking the hell out of me. I grabbed his hair.

“No,” he ordered, his voice vibrating my clit, sending tingles straight up my spine to my brain. “Arms above your head at all times. You’re mine.”

Not mine tonight.

Not mine for right now.

Not mine while in this room.

Just you’re mine.

Something strange and foreign stirred in my chest at the sound of that.

I was writhing on the couch, his massive arm anchoring the lower part of my body right where he wanted me. I was sobbing, begs and pleas ripping from my lips. He kept drawing me to the edge, stimulating me just enough before slowing, pulling me back away from it again, never letting me cum yet.

“Please,” I begged, tears burning in my eyes. “Please.”

“Please what?” he growled.

I had no idea what the fuck I was saying anymore. My mouth opened before I could think.

“Please, Daddy,” I cried out.

“Good girl.” With that, he sucked hard on my clit, and my world fucking exploded around me.

Tags: T.O. Smith Jackson Family Erotic
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