by Katee Robert
He’s right.
His hand goes back to my hair and he wraps it around his fist again, guiding my face to his until we’re kissably close. Unforgivably, intimately close. “If you change your mind at any point, you fucking tell me. Promise me that or this goes no farther.”
“I promise.” When he still hesitates, I run my hands up his chest. I wish he was naked, but there’s time for that. “I trust you, Jonas.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t.” His expression is almost tormented. “Maybe you shouldn’t trust me at all. The things I want to do to you, baby girl. I want to fucking defile you.”
7
I want to defile you.
“Do it,” I whisper. “I’m right here. I want you to. I need you to.”
Jonas bends me back so that my breasts are in his face. I’m still rolling my hips, still rubbing myself up and down the length of his cock. It feels so good, I never want to stop, but I also need more. I let him take my weight, trusting him to keep me off the floor. He’s still holding back. I don’t need to see his face to know that.
There’s only one thing to do. I up my game. “Please.” I lift my hips just enough that his cock presses to my entrance. “I need your cock.”
“I’m not wearing a condom,” he says it so mildly, as if commenting on the weather.
“I’m on the pill,” I gasp. “I, uh, I’ve been tested recently.” Right after I broke up with my last girlfriend a few months ago. “I haven’t been with anyone since then.”
“I have, too.” He says it so quietly, I can barely hear the words over the pounding of my blood in my ears. “Still not a good idea. I get a feel for this pussy bare, I might never give it up.”
Surely I just heard him wrong. Or it’s all part of the roleplaying we’ve fallen into so seamlessly. Outside of sex, Jonas seems to barely tolerate my presence. Hell, even with sex, he seems to barely tolerate it, though that has a distinct flavor of desire. He’s trying to shock me again, trying to scare me off as if being here in this moment is anything but exactly what I choose.
In this moment, what I choose is to be the dirty little slut he’s named me with such fondness. “Please, Daddy. Please fill me up.”
His exhale against my chest is almost shaky. For a moment, I think he’ll give me exactly what we both obviously want. I really should know better. Jonas shifts his grip on my hair, pulling me up so that our faces are even. He’s regained control of himself. His expression offers me nothing, which only makes me want to provoke him more. Jonas gives my hair a little tug. “I said you have to earn this cock and I meant it. You’re nowhere near that yet.”
I’m not?
I lick my lips, achingly aware of how closely he follows the move. “What do I have to do to earn it?”
“How quickly you ask that. You really would do anything, wouldn’t you?” His mouth twists like he’s unhappy with the revelation.
I know it pisses him off, but I really can’t think up much that he could do that I wouldn’t be into. Not when he’s already broken several of the rules I was sure I wasn’t into. I’m not willing to eliminate much ahead of time… But I think hard, trying to come up with something to appease him. “I don’t think I’d like to dress up like an animal.”
Jonas blinks. “You don’t think you would?”
My cheeks heat, and it feels like that embarrassment is coating my entire body, driving my desire higher. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried it before. Are you into that?”
“No, Blake.” He says it so drily, it’s like the words have sucked up every bit of moisture in the room. “That particularly kink isn’t an interest of mine.”
“Oh.” He’s still waiting, so I dig deeper. “I’m good with spanking and some really rough sex, but I don’t really want any heavy pain stuff.”
“That’s more than fair.” His grip gentles in my hair, moving to my neck and massaging the tight muscles there. “Give me one more.”
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 finge
r 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?”
The room feels like it’s getting hotter with each second that passes. I look down my body to where he’s still finger fucking me. He’s not going after my G-spot the way he did last time. No, Jonas is stroking me like he owns me and he’s reminding us both of the fact. Slow and thorough and possessive. I swallow hard. “I think it would play out a lot like this.”
“Mmm. I think so, too.” He slides his free hand over my hip, fingers dipping beneath the fabric. “You’d roll over and pull up your shirt so you can show me this pretty pussy. How’s a man supposed to walk away from an invitation like that?”
“He’s not. You’re not.”
“I should.” He states it as fact. “You’re not for me, and taking what you’re offering is a shitty thing to do.” Jonas inhales deeply. “Just a taste, baby girl. Just a taste and that will have to be enough.”
Enough for who?
It’s sure as hell not going to be enough for me.
8
I don’t get an answer because Jonas is sliding down to settle between my thighs. He gives me one last long look. “Be quiet, Blake. If you make too much noise, I have to stop.”
“I’ll be quiet. I promise,” I whisper.
My resolve doesn’t last through the first drag of his tongue over my pussy. A whimper works its way past my lips despite my best efforts. Jonas doesn’t stop. He dips one hand beneath my shirt to press against my stomach, holding me in place as he explores my pussy with his mouth just as thoroughly as he did with his fingers. Tracing and teasing and nowhere near enough to get me over the edge. The fact that my orgasm doesn’t seem to be his aim in this moment only makes this sexier. He’s not doing this to get me off so we can hurry up and fuck. He’s savoring me, lingering over my taste the way someone does over expensive whiskey or a favorite dessert.
Another whimper slips free.
I barely register that he’s gone still before he’s moving up my body and settling between my thighs. Jonas digs one hand into my hair and pulls my head to the side a bit. He drags his mouth along the bared line of my neck, his words low and rough and just for me. “I told you to be quiet, Blake.”
“I’m sorry.” But I’m not. As much as I love his mouth on me, the feeling of his weight pressing me into the mattress is so much better. I roll my hips, seeking his cock, but he stops me easily, pinning my lower body with his.
“No, you’re not.” He sets his teeth against the spot he just kissed. “You’re not even a little sorry.”
He’s right. I’m not. I like pushing him.
My hands are pinned between us, trapped between our stomachs. I’ve played with bondage a bit over the years, but this feels entirely different. It’s almost primal. I want him to overpower me, to hold me down and fuck me into submission, to… I simply want everything.
“Jonas,” I breathe.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not going to be able to keep quiet.” I hesitate. “Cover my mouth.”
“Cover your mouth,” he repeats.
A bolt of pure lust overrides any thought. “Yes.” I nod as much as I’m able with his hold on my hair. “Cover my mouth. Hold me down. Fuck me.”
His chuckle is a rasp against my skin. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
I blink at the ceiling. Of course I’d like that. It’s why I brought it up. “Yes?”
“Cover your mouth and hold you down while I fuck you.” Another drag of his mouth against my throat. “Then you can pretend that you’re still a good girl. That you’re not a little slut who’s fucking a man she barely knows in her parents’ house. That you’re not dripping for my cock.”
The rough words have me moaning, and that’s when he moves again. Jonas releases my hair and covers my mouth with a rough hand. His lips brush the shell of my ear. “I’m not going to hold you down, Blake. You don’t get to pretend you’re anything but eager for what I’m giving you.”
He raises himself enough that I have no choice but to move my hands. I tentatively place them on his hips and slide them beneath his shirt to touch bare skin. Jonas releases a rough breath at my touch. “That’s right. Now be a good girl and lift your hips.”
My blood has turned to fire. I dig my heels into the mattress and lift my hips as he shifts back enough that his cock notches at my entrance. Jonas’s hand over my mouth tenses. “You gave this pussy to me, baby girl. That means if I want to fuck it bare, that’s what I’m going to do. You’re going to love every moment of it. Isn’t that right?” He lifts his hand just enough for me to answer.
It doesn’t matter that we already discussed birth control and test results before this moment. We’re playing a game, and in this game he’s going to fuck me dirty as if he doesn’t give a shit about the potential consequences. As if I’m a plaything for him, a possession to be toyed with until he’s wrung out every bit of enjoyment.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl.” He covers my mouth again and lowers his lips to my ear. “You remember the rules, Blake?”
If it’s too much, I tell him.
I could remind him that there’s nothing about this that’s too much, that I meant it when I said I want him to do whatever he wants with me. That we’re playing a game I’m only too happy to participate in.
I don’t. I simply nod against his hand.
Jonas shifts, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance. He’s big, wide, and thick. I can’t stop a whimper as he sinks into me a little, stretching me almost uncomfortably wide despite my earlier orgasm.
“None of that, baby girl. You can take it.” For all his rough words, he goes achingly slowly, tiny strokes that wedge his cock into me a fraction of an inch at a time. It feels never-ending. “You’re so fucking tight.”
The words almost make me laugh. Of course I feel tight when he’s so huge. I slide my hands down his hips and beneath the jeans he’s still wearing to his ass. The fact that I’m still wearing the shirt and he’s still got his clothes on only makes this fantasy hotter. As if he really did just wander into the wrong room and decide to take me up on what I’m offering. As if my family is right down the hallway, totally unaware of the way my father’s best friend is wedging his cock into my pussy, deeper and deeper with each passing second.
I moan again, the sound trapped against Jonas’s palm. He sinks the rest of the way into me in response. Only then does he go still, allowing me to adjust to his size. It doesn’t take long. After all, he wasn’t lying when he said I’m practically dripping for him. I shift a little, experimenting with the feel of him inside me.
“All those little whimpers and shakes and, here you are, taking my entire cock.” I can’t see his face in our current position, but I don’t need to in order to hear how coldly amused he is. I clench around him in response. Jonas curses again. “We have to be quiet. Can’t have the headboard giving us away.”
I nod again. I’m panting, my breath coming too fast, too hard. How does he know exactly what to say in order to set me aflame? It’s dirty and all kinds of wrong, but it’s fantasy and fantasy can’t hurt anyone. It can only bring us pleasure.
Jonas begins to fuck me, a long slow withdrawal and an equally slow advance. The bed barely moves. I can’t move. He slips his free arm beneath the small of my back, lifting my hips and…holy shit…that angle has him dragging against my G-spot. He knows it, too. Instead of the deep strokes he’s been doing, he works the tip of his cock against that spot inside me until I’m moaning with each move. Even with his hand covering my mouth, I’m not being quiet. I’m not even trying.
Pleasure coi
ls tighter and tighter through me, centering where he works my G-spot. I’m so fucking close, I’m getting lightheaded. So…fucking…close.
I don’t mean to dig my nails into his ass. I really don’t. He growls against my neck and surges forward, impaling me to the hilt. I let loose a little scream, but Jonas ignores it. “It’s like that, is it?” He hitches my hips higher, sinking even deeper into me. “You need more.”
I’m already nodding. “Fuck me.” The words are muffled, but clear.
Jonas curses. “We’re going to get caught.” He pulls back and slams into me. The headboard gives a dull thump against the wall, the sound feeling much louder than it actually is. Because someone could hear. Because we’re giving ourselves away.
He does it again. “But you don’t care about being caught, do you? All you care about is getting this cock as deep inside you as possible. Dirty. Little. Slut.”
How can he turn words that should be harsh into something that’s an endearment? I don’t understand it, but I’m not about to question it.
“Do you hear someone coming down the hallway?” he murmurs against my ear. “If they open this door, they’re not going to be able to pretend we’re doing anything but fucking.” His hand tenses on my mouth and then he’s fucking me harder, the sound of flesh meeting flesh twining with the headboard hitting the wall. “I don’t give a damn. I’m not going to stop.”
“Don’t stop,” I moan.
“I won’t.” His fingers dig into my jaw. Not enough to hurt, but he’s losing control. That knowledge drives my lust higher, lures my orgasm closer. “Your pussy is too good. I can’t stop fucking you. No matter who walks into this room. Not until you come and I fill you up. That’s what you want, isn’t it, dirty girl? For me to fuck you all night and then for you to go to breakfast with your parents all filled up with my come. If you were quiet, they wouldn’t know what a little slut you’ve been.” He curses and drives into me harder. “But you can’t be quiet, can you? Fuck. We’re going to get caught.”
