Baby Daddy (Forever Daddies Book 1)

by Victoria Snow

  “I know,” she said simply before her hands went to my belt buckle.

  It was like I was in another world as she freed me from my pants and underwear, already half-hard and aching for her. Her small, soft hand gripped me, and she held me still while her tongue came out to lave around my head.

  Holy fuck. I gazed down at her, looking at the crown of her head, and her plush lips that were wide open. I wanted to shove forward, to bury myself in her throat until she could only taste and feel me. But I knew better than that, and I let her coax me to full hardness.

  It didn’t take long. Every single touch of hers was euphoric, and I had to grip the counter myself not to fall over.

  “That’s it, baby girl,” I gasped as her tongue flicked out again, the flat of it dragging along my head and then her tongue swirling around the underside of it. “You gonna make me feel good?”

  She let out this adorable little hum and if that didn’t just hit me in the perfect way. Tenderly, she pressed a little kiss to the very tip of me, and my hips stuttered forward.

  “Are you going to tease me?” I heard myself practically growl. “That’s not very nice.”

  She tilted her head up ever so slightly, letting me see a mischievous smirk, before opening her mouth and slowly sliding me inside.

  I couldn’t help it, a litany of swears tumbled from my mouth as I was enveloped in her wet heat, her tongue sliding up and town along the underside of my shaft.

  I was too big for her to swallow all of me. I could already feel my tip hitting against the back of her throat and hear a slight gag escape from her.

  She kept on, however, her hand still on me and sinking down to my base to meet her lips every time she slid down me. It was bliss, pure bliss.

  It had been years since I’d ever had someone basically attack me like a lollipop, and for someone who looked so innocent, Belle was working me over like she was meant to be on her knees.

  God, it was so hot watching her as she tried her best to please me, and the sounds that escaped her were an outright sin. It was all so much, too similar to the many fantasies I used to have about her before I forced myself to stop, and I felt my end coming up on me far too soon.

  I groaned and my hips bucked again while my hand buried itself in her hair. I expected her to pull away, or maybe put my hand back on the counter, but instead she let out a delicious little trill and let me further down her throat.

  Oh, so she liked that, did she?

  I gave another experimental thrust, and she took it with hardly so much as a gag. There were no words for how much that turned me on, and soon my hips were driving into her mouth.

  That only lasted a few moments, however, and I felt my abdomen starting to tense in persistent waves.

  “Belle, I’m gonna come. Right now.”

  She just nodded, grabbing my other hand and putting that on top of her head too. The message was clear as day, and I buried my fingers in her hair, yanking her down to the base of me while I climaxed almost violently.

  “Fuck, Belle!”

  I spilled into her mouth, holding her in place while my entire body was locked up in mind-numbing pleasure. I let go almost as soon as I had brain function, but she stayed pressed to me, swallowing around my length until I winced from oversensitivity.

  She sat back, lips swollen, and chin covered in saliva, and I wanted to build a monument to her right then and there.

  “I’ll take that as your seal of approval,” she said, voice a bit horse.

  But I couldn’t speak myself, so I just grabbed her and hauled her up, crashing my lips to her. I could taste myself on her, salty and a bit bitter, but I didn’t care.

  “My turn,” I said once I was done ravaging her mouth.

  And boy, was she quite the act to follow.

  16

  Anabelle

  I didn’t know what had come over me. I’d given my boyfriend after college a grand total of two blowjobs in my life and neither of them had been a very pleasant experience. And yet, when the meal was over and Michael was busy putting away the dishes, I had the overwhelming urge to do something for him.

  But what did someone do for the man who had everything?

  Apparently, suck his dick like it was made of pure sugar and enjoy every minute.

  I was surprised at myself and surprised at how wet I could feel I was. And most of all, I was surprised when he hauled me up by my arms and kissed me dizzy.

  My ex had always refused to kiss me the two times I went down on him, but Michael didn’t even think twice. And when we broke apart, he looked at me like he wanted to devour me right then and there.

  “You gonna trust me again, baby girl?” he said, voice low and gravelly.

  “Oh,” I murmured, feeling my heart throb. I knew what that was code for. “Yeah, yeah I am.”

  “Good girl,” he said, pressing his lips to mine and then slinging me right over his shoulder.

  “Oh my God!” I cried before letting out a short bark of laughter. Did he really just throw me over his shoulder like a caveman? I couldn’t believe it, but it also turned me on in a way that I wasn’t used to. I was a big woman, and yet Michael manhandled me like I wasn’t. He was just so fucking strong. It made me tingle all down my spine and want to explore every muscle of his.

  Not that I really could from my position, so I contented myself with reaching down and grabbing his ass. He certainly had a nice one, especially for a guy.

  “You ever though about giving up your illustrious empire and becoming an underwear model?”

  He laughed at that, but even his mirth was lower, more heady than usual. Like he was so consumed with desire for me that it had changed every aspect of him. The thought made me shiver, and Michael must have felt that because he smacked my own ass in response.

  I let out a debauched gasp and the next thing I knew, he sat down on the bed, pulling me backwards and spreading my legs so that I was sitting in his lap.

  It was an impressive move, all done in one fluid motion so that one moment his shoulder was pressing into my soft middle and the next I was straddling him. Although we had a pretty intense difference in height, the position brought us face to face, and soon he was claiming my mouth again.

  I sank into him, appreciating him taking charge. Appreciating the release of responsibility. I hadn’t planned on sleeping with him. In fact, I had told myself that I was never going to sleep with him again, but I just couldn’t help myself. Every part of my body called out for him, wanting him to ravage me, to wreck me. To leave me utterly spent and satiated.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed once we parted, eyes half lidded and fixing me with a gaze that reminded me so much of a predator and I was his quivering prey.

  I flushed at that, and the next thing I knew, he leaned back until he was flat on the mattress, his hands insistently pulling me with him until I was suddenly straddling his chest instead of his thighs.

  He was so broad, that my thighs were stretched painfully wide, but I loved the pinch of it. It made every ounce of pleasure he gave me that much more intense, enhancing it in the same way cayenne pepper would enhance a chocolate chip cookie.

  But I did feel a flash of embarrassment at the thought that he would definitely be able to feel exactly how wet I was very soon. He was wearing a light, cotton button up and judging by how drenched I was… well, I was surprised he hadn’t said something already.

  “Come here,” he said, big, broad hands grasping either of my cheeks and suddenly hauling me up and forward.

  Once more I was stunned by his strength, and I let out a surprised sound as he hauled me all the way up to his chin. I halted the movement and sank backwards, staring at him with wide eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I thought you said you were going to trust me, baby girl.” His voice was low, dangerous in the most thrilling way possible, and his hands gently pushed my skirt up further until it was bunched around my waist. “Have I ever done anything you have
n’t liked?”

  I shook my head, feeling myself blush from my scalp to the soles of my feet as I guessed what his aim was. “No.”

  “Good. So, come ride my face until you scream.”

  Fuck. He really knew what to say, didn’t he?

  But there was still the tiniest sliver of insecurity in my gut, telling me that I was too heavy, too sweaty, too gross to sit on top of someone’s literal face. How would he breathe!?

  “But I’m still wearing my panti-”

  I should have known better, but before I even finished the phrase, his hands came up and ripped my panties in the perfect echo of what had happened between us the first time.

  I should have been irritated, but I wasn’t. Instead, it was so incredibly hot that it banished pretty much any doubts I had left.

  His hands went back to my ass and he hauled me right up where he wanted. This time, I didn’t resist him, and soon his mouth was at my center.

  “Holy shit, Michael. Michael, Michael!”

  I couldn’t help it as multiple cries spilled from my mouth in one long chain. No one had gone down on me since the last time, and the position that we were in completely changed the sensation of it in a way that I didn’t know was even possible.

  My hands went to his hair, my favorite handhold, and I rutted against him. His own palms rested on my ass, kneading each cheek and urging me to bare down onto his face much harder than I would have normally.

  I had no idea how he was breathing, but his powerful grip on me wouldn’t let me ease up. It was clear that he wanted me to wreck myself on his mouth, and I was powerless to resist his direction.

  Not that I would want to. Between his tongue sliding in and out of me and my clit rubbing against either his nose or chin, I was soon a panting, sweating mess. I masturbated plenty of times in the past handful of years, but none of it was as intense as what Michael was able to do to me.

  My wave built in me quickly, and I could feel all of my body tensing as if I was a jack in the box that was being wound over and over again without a break. And just like that particular toy, I could only take it for so long, and soon I was screaming out my orgasm, bucking against his face while he held me to him.

  His tongue never stopped moving, working through my orgasm, circling and flicking over that sensitive bundle of nerves until finally I had to beg him to stop.

  He did, giving me one last, long lick up my wet slit, before he let me fall to the side.

  I laid there, breathing heavily, as his fingers just trailed down my side. We sat there for a couple moments, not nearly enough for me to come back to myself entirely, before he spoke.

  “I want to feel you,” he said, not sounding any more slaked than he had before making me ride his face to kingdom come.

  I nodded vaguely, too blissed out to worry about forming actual words, but I didn’t miss the prideful glint to his eyes.

  Slowly, carefully, he pulled my soft sweater from my body, then slid my skirt down my wide hips and legs, before finally undoing my bra with one hand.

  Now that part I was particularly impressed with, especially considering that I was laying down, and I would have let out a whistle if my mouth felt like working. But that quickly faded as Michael posted himself over me, then slowly kissed his way down my body.

  It didn’t seem like he had a particular purpose. He didn’t make a straight line to my nipple or my center or anything. He just explored all of me, caressing, sucking, licking and kissing. It was like he was learning every inch of me, mapping out every new stretch mark or scar, every freckle or sunspot. It was sweet and it was entirely too tender.

  Feeling that I had long since clamped down started to well up, making my heart ache in a bittersweet sort of way. With him being so kind to me, so loving, it was easy to imagine what it would have been like if I hadn’t run. What might have happened if I had stayed in that hotel penthouse and let him wake me up with his head between my thighs. Let him spoil me and love on me until he grew bored.

  No. That would only hurt all the more. Men like him didn’t fall in love with women like me. I might have been a good fuck, maybe even a brilliant fuck, but I wasn’t so naive to think that I was his idea of marriage material.

  The thought left a bitter taste in my mouth, but before it could ruin the mood, I noticed that his kissed had become pointedly more determined and he was making his way down my abdomen.

  No… he couldn’t be, right? I had just came!

  And then his hands still went to my knees, bending my legs up one at a time and resting my calves along his back.

  “Michael, I’m still-”

  Once more, I didn’t even get the words out before his mouth was on me again, his lips forming a seal around my clit and sucking while his tongue circled it dutifully.

  A wordless cry escaped my throat as I arched up into him and he just drank me up eagerly, never relenting. It was just bordering on too much, making me whine and writhe and plead with him.

  Whether I was begging for more or less, I didn’t know. The only thing I was certain of was that I was completely drunk on whatever he was doing to me and that I was never going to be the same again.

  One of his hands went to my belly, soft and squishy and bigger than when I was twenty-two. But the way he groaned when he pressed down into his, his hand sinking in partially, made me feel like I was some sort of sex goddess and he was in my thrall.

  That thought was pretty easy to get swept away in, and I squeezed my thighs around his head experimentally. His one hand that wasn’t pressing down into my lower stomach, slid under his chin, two of his fingers entering me right off the bat.

  Well, that was a reward if I had ever had one.

  I let out another cry, trying to buck harder into his face, but he was holding me fast. His fingers pressed downwards inside of me, which seemed like it should have been uncomfortable, but the calloused pads seemed to catch on some sort of ligament and suddenly I felt as if I was full of him.

  “What is that?” I gasped, my eyes almost crossing from the strange sensation.

  “It won’t sound sexy if I explain it,” Michael said with a slight chuckle before he began to lick and suck all around my opening, as if he wanted to clean up every bit of my slickness from my earlier orgasm. It made all of my blood rush right back to that area and I felt another climax creeping up on me.

  He worked me over for goodness knew how long, but it was probably only a few minutes, before his fingers slid partially out of me and turned, curling to reach that spongy ridge just inside of me.

  But this time, he didn’t touch it directly. Instead, he sealed his mouth over what little bit of my opening was left over and applied suction, making almost a sort of vacuum inside of me. And then, just when I was certain that he was finally doing something wrong, he flicked his fingers up and away from that ridge, making me nearly jump out of my skin.

  “Oh, fuck, Michael. Please, please, please!”

  I didn’t know what I was begging for. All I knew was that I was going to lose my mind if there wasn’t a resolution to the powder keg that felt like it was about to go off in my middle. How one man could be so good at giving head was beyond me. And he didn’t act like it was a challenge, either, or something inconvenient. But rather that it was a privilege that he enjoyed thoroughly.

  He broke the seal on me finally, and his fingers began to slide in and out of me in earnest. “Come for me, baby girl,” he ordered firmly before his tongue flicked over that sensitive bundle of nerves again.

  And I did.

  It was just as virulent as the first one, and I practically jackknifed off the bed, back completely bowed. Undiluted pleasure surged through my brain, feeling like it shorted out all of my nerves until I was just a very contented bag of jelly.

  “You’re too good at that,” I rasped, unable to lift my head and look at the amazing man who made me come undone over and over again.

  “You say that like you’ve had enough,” he said, climbing up my body, nippin
g, licking and basically worshiping my body.

  “Haven’t you?” I said, finally looking up.

  And I got my answer right then and there, seeing his erection was back and raging, red and leaking pre-come from the tip.

  “…oh.”

  “I want you,” he said, finally finding my mouth and taking it savagely. I could feel so much energy surging just below his skin and I marveled at how much passion was contained within him. It was our third time together, but he was still acting like it was the first and last, like every moment was precious and he wasn’t ever going to get enough of me.

  A girl could get used to that.

  Wait. No, no I couldn’t.

  What was happening between Michael and I was temporary. I needed to appreciate it, but not expect anything more than what was happening in the moment. Because the more time I spent with him, the more inevitable it was that the truth would come out, and then I knew he wouldn’t even want to look at me.

  That thought made a maelstrom start to build in my middle, but it was quickly shoved to the very back of my thoughts as Michael began to slide into me. He went in much more smoothly than before -which made sense considering that I had two orgasms already- and I arched up into him.

  He started slow, rocking into me, seeming to just enjoy the sensation of being inside of me, of my walls clamping down around him. Praises dropped from his lip, making my heart race and my mind float higher and higher on the cloud he was building up for me.

  I liked being told I was good. That I was beautiful. That I was perfect. Even though I knew that I was anything but. But he was so adamant in all his praises, it was impossible not to believe him.

  The pleasant stretch of him faded much too soon and I guessed that I was growing used to the whole sex thing. I was still doused in pleasure, but I missed the counterpoint of sensation that made everything so much sharper.

  Or, at least I did until he suddenly pulled out and flipped me over, yanking me up to my hands and knees with only a grunt.