Be My Babygirl - Page 47

Timidness, embarrassment, and shame all swirl around me as I lie under his expectant gaze. Does he really expect me to… touch myself while he watches? “I-I’m not sure I…”

My words stick in my throat as he reaches for my hip, turning me to the side, and landing a loud, stinging swat on my left ass cheek. “Ow!”

He rolls me back over. “Now, do as your daddy says and touch that pretty pussy of yours.”

My teeth sink into my lip and heat rises in my face as I reach down with trembling fingers and closed eyes. Sliding my finger over my panties, I find my throbbing clit and press. I gasp as I slide my finger up and down over the panty covered crease, then circle my clit once more. I open my eyes.

He’s watching me, hungry for more. “Now let me pull those panties down.”

He grabs the waistband, pulling them down over my hips, my legs, tossing them to the floor. I’m naked from the waist down, wearing only my old, comfy sweatshirt.

His hands go to the inside of my trembling thighs and he parts them. I’m so wet, the quiet room is filled with the slick sound of my lips parting, making me moan with shame. The scent of my arousal reaches me and suddenly the need to touch myself is so great, I find my fingers going to my slick sex without waiting for his command.

My back arches as he croons. “There’s a good girl. Show daddy how you pleasure yourself.”

My fingers move up and down, a climax building in my core.

Suddenly, he gives a deep growl, pushing my hands aside. “My turn.”

He grabs my legs, spreading them, kneeling between them. He bends over and his hot, wet mouth finds my throbbing, aching sex. He lashes my swollen bud with his tongue and the sensation alone is almost enough to make me come.

My fingers tangle in his hair as I moan, “Oh, Darius.”

His mouth leaves me, his sharp teeth nipping the inside of my thigh. I cry out in pain, “What was that for?”

“It’s daddy to you, little girl.” And with that, he buries himself back between my thighs. He licks and sucks until I’m bucking against the bed, a deep orgasm racking my body in wave after wave.

There are other people in this house and I try to hold back my cries as I come again and again, whispering, “Oh daddy.”

I’m left shaking, trembling, overwhelmed, when he finally rises. His mouth is on mine and I can taste my own sex as he kisses me deeply. His hands find my face, cupping it tenderly as he kisses me harder, his tongue swirling against mine.

It’s a kiss of urgency.

As if he needs me. Badly. Right now.

As if he needs me in the way I need him.

My hands fumble at his waist, unbuckling his belt. He pushes them away, undressing quickly and returning to me. He lifts the hem of my sweatshirt and I rise up for him to remove it. I wear no bra beneath it and my nipples are peaked, ready for his mouth.

He cups and palms my breasts, taking one between his lips and kissing. The feel of his caresses reach deep within my core.

There’s a stirring that’s more than just pleasure and need. It’s a connection, a deep one, between him and me, our bodies using our limbs, our mouths to connect our souls.

His eyes lock on mine as he presses his cock against my slick entrance. He holds my gaze as he holds himself there, frozen in time, paused for some unknown reason, and yet… in that moment something passes between us.

An understanding.

Up until this, our encounters have just been sex, turning one another on until we can take it no longer and we fuck each other’s brains out.

This… this is different. This feels like, well, there’s no other word for it… this feels like making love. And I can sense the sentiment goes both ways.

I’m shocked to find tears forming at the backs of my eyes. “I need you. I need you now.” My fingers dig into his shoulder blades, begging, pleading.

“I need you too, babygirl.” He breaks our eye contact only long enough to brush his lips against mine, then he’s back, staring into the very center of my being.

And he enters me.

He goes slowly, every movement I feel deep inside my core. He fills me and as he does, there’s a welling in my chest. A wanting, a yearning.

But it’s not for his cock.

It’s for him.

I want him.

And, I want to be his.

To my horror, the tears escape my eyes, running down my cheeks.

He murmurs to me, “Don’t cry.” Then he does a thing… a thing that pleases me so much, it strikes the very core of who I am.

He kisses away my tears. So gently, so tenderly, it almost makes me want to cry again.

Tags: Jane Henry Billionaire Romance
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