My Dad's Best Friend (A Touch of Taboo)

by Katee Robert

  This time, he can’t hold in a chuckle. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Easy answer: fuck me senseless.” I’m not even playing a role right now. I’m just enjoying myself.

  Jonas lifts me, moving me as easily as he would a doll, and arranges me on his lap, facing away from him. “Keep an eye on the door.” He doesn’t wait for a response. He just positions his cock at my entrance and then grips my hips, dragging me down his length. It’s quicker than last time, but my body has finally adjusted to him. Once he’s seated deep within me, he covers my mouth with one hand and guides me back to lean against his chest. The position arches my back, putting me on display for anyone who might walk into the room.

  He skates his free hand down my stomach and presses his fingers to my clit. “Now be a good girl and ride your Daddy’s cock.”

  The words set me in motion with a sound that almost like a sob. I can’t move a lot in this position, but I waste no time rolling my hips and fucking him as much as I’m able. Each stroke has my clit rubbing against his hand. I’m already primed from the fantasy, from the earlier sex and orgasms. It takes no time at all before I’m dancing on the edge of another one.

  I slow down. I want this to last as long as possible, and that means I can’t come too soon.

  Except Jonas tightens his grip on my face the slightest amount. “Playing games?”

  “No.” The muffled word is still clear enough.

  “I think you are. You don’t want to give me your orgasm?” He laughs roughly. “Fine. I’ll just take it.” He lifts his free hand and allows me to turn my head enough to watch him take two fingers into his mouth, wetting them. Then they’re back at my clit, slippery and sinful. I try to hold still, to fight the orgasm, but it doesn’t matter if I’m riding his cock because he’s so damn deep inside me and his fingers are so clever against my clit. He winds me tighter and tighter, and then it’s too late. I orgasm hard, sobbing into his palm and slumping back against his chest.

  “Better,” he murmurs. “You fight me, but we both understand that I know what’s best.”

  I might have some choice words about him thinking that waiting six years to do this is what’s best, but I don’t quite have control of my body right now to speak them. I’m too busy riding the aftermath of the pleasure he’s dealt me.

  Jonas shifts my hair off my neck and presses an open-mouthed kiss to my nape. It makes me shiver and moan, so he does it again. “I’m going to fuck you now, baby girl.”

  That wakes me from my pleasure daze. “What?” I grab his wrist and leverage his hand off my mouth. I barely remember to keep my voice down. “What the hell have we been doing this entire time?”

  “Getting you ready.” The pure satisfaction in his voice sends a tremor through me.

  Getting me ready.

  So he can fuck me like he wants to without worrying that he’ll hurt me. Oh shit, why is that so hot? I drag in a rough breath. “Okay.” He lifts me off him and climbs to his knees. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where we’re headed. I hesitate. “If you take me from behind, you’re going to be even deeper.”

  “Mmhmm.” He nudges my legs wide and presses a hand to the middle of my back, urging me down to press my cheek to the mattress. “You can take it.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  Another of those dark chuckles. “You’re a hell of a boost for an old man’s ego, baby girl.”

  “It’s not an ego boost if it’s true.” I tense as his cock breaches my entrance. “And you’re not old—holy fuck.” He shoves the rest of the way into me. Almost too big…but not quite.

  A pillow lands by my head. “If you need to scream, do it into the pillow.”

  “Arrogant ass.” But I do as he says and wrap my arms around the pillow in front of my face. Jonas doesn’t remind me to tell him if it’s too much, and I appreciate that he seems to be finally trusting me to communicate with him. Or maybe he’s simply too lost in this moment. He grips my hips and eases out of me almost all the way, an achingly slow retreat that almost lulls me into thinking that this will be like last time.

  It’s not.

  When just the head of his cock is inside me, he tightens his hold on my hips and hauls me back onto his length as he thrusts forward. The dull pain is back, adding spice to my pleasure, and I bury my face in the pillow. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down. Jonas just keeps fucking me hard enough that the rough sound of flesh meeting flesh fills the room; a perfect counterpart for my muffled moans, for the dull thud of the headboard.

  “Everyone in this house is going to know what we’re doing.” He curses and grinds deep into me. “They’re going to know I’m balls deep in this perfect fucking pussy and I don’t give a shit about being caught.” Another series of rough strokes that have a deep and steady pressure building in my lower body. “It doesn’t matter. You feel too good to stop.” He pounds into me, hard and intense. Almost like he’s punishing me for making him want me.

  I turn my head enough to say. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

  His laugh contains barbed wire and razor blades. “You’re about to come all over my cock, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” I moan. This orgasm is different from the others. It’s coming on too strong, too intensely. It’s almost scary, and I try to slow down.

  Jonas is having none of it. He uses his hold on my hips to force me to keep up the pace. To drive me right over the edge and into oblivion. I bury my face in the pillow and scream, but he doesn’t stop. He just keeps fucking me until my body clenches and I squirt all over him.

  He curses and loses his rhythm, bearing me down to the bed and fucking furiously into me as he chases his own orgasm. He wraps his arms around me, holding me close as he shoves deep and comes. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

  I don’t have the energy to laugh. I don’t have the energy to do anything except lay here and let him wrap me up as pleasure keeps pulsing through my body. “No more.” I whimper. “I can’t take any more.”

  “You’re done when I say you’re done.”

  12

  Despite the harsh words, Jonas buries his face in my neck and kisses the sensitive skin there. He rolls us onto our side, takes a moment to adjust my legs so he’s not crushing me, and then pulls me back against his chest. His cock is still twitching inside me. Every time it pulses, I give a little twitch of my own. I’m so over-sensitized, I’m not sure if it’s too much or if it’s just going to wind me back up again.

  I’m shaking and I can’t seem to stop. “Jonas.”

  “I’ve got you,” he murmurs.

  Maybe I should feel caged by him right now. He’s got me tangled up tightly enough for the term to fit. I don’t, though. Instead, it’s almost like he’s made a safe cocoon between me and the rest of the world. A strange thought, but there’s no denying how safe I feel in this moment.

  How safe I’ve felt from the very start of this.

  It’s several long minutes before our bodies cool and my heart rate returns to something approximating normal. Jonas presses another kiss to my throat. “Think your legs will hold you?”

  “You say stuff like that and then claim that I’m the one responsible for your big ego.”

  He gives me a squeeze and disentangles himself from my body. I can’t quite shove down a whimper in response. I’m a little sore and a lot tired, but it’s like he’s a fever in my blood. I’m suddenly terrified that I’ll never get enough of him.

  No, that’s ridiculous. Of course I’ll get enough of him. It’s just that he was right earlier when he said a single night won’t be enough. That’s all.

  He climbs to his feet and then offers his hand. I kind of want to slap it away just to see what he’ll do, but I’m wobbly enough to worry that I won’t be able to stand without help. He tugs me to my feet and gives me a nudge toward the bathroom. “I’m going to change the sheets. Get the shower started.”

  “You know, we’re not fucking right now. You don’t have to take the bos
sy tone.”

  He gives me a long look. “I was under the impression that you knew who you invited into bed with you, Blake. The fantasy might be an amped up version of it, but this is me.”

  I did know that. Jonas has one hell of a reputation for being unyielding, to the point where my father jokes about it all the time. I’ve seen evidence of that myself, both six years ago and with his refusal to my business offer. I lift my chin. “I’m aware of the fact that you’re a cantankerous grouch and set in your ways.”

  He raises his brows. “A cantankerous grouch.”

  “Tell me it’s not the truth.” I continue before he can respond. “That wasn’t my point, by the way. You can be the bossy ass all you want, but understand that I’m not going to roll over and play obedient baby girl when we’re not doing…” I wave my hand vaguely at the bed.

  If anything, his brows arch higher. “Your definition of obedient is as flawed as your definition of sorry.”

  “That’s the second time you had a chance to quote the Princess Bride and just let the opportunity pass you by.” I shake my head. “What am I going to do with you, Jonas?”

  “I’m sure you’ll come up with more than a few ideas.” He’s still looking at me as if trying to figure out what I want. “I’m not asking for unquestioning obedience, Blake. I’m not interested in that—not this weekend, and not in general. But we’re both sweaty and covered in come. We’ll sleep better with a shower and clean sheets.”

  I start to respond, but pause when I realize what he’s implying. “We’re sleeping together?”

  That stops him short. He frowns. “I’d assumed…” Jonas glances at the bed. “If you’d be more comfortable with me on the couch—”

  “No!” I try to temper my tone, to shove the enthusiasm down to a more moderate level. “No, that’s not what I want. I’m just realizing that we didn’t talk much about what this weekend would look like other than the whole ‘this pussy is mine’ thing.”

  He shrugs. “It looks like what you want it to look like.”

  Now it’s my turn to frown. “That’s not an answer.”

  “I know.” Jonas drags his hand through his hair. “I didn’t exactly plan on this on any level. There’s no reason for us not to sleep in the same bed.” He gives me a slow smile that has butterflies erupting in my stomach. “Besides, I like eating pussy first thing in the morning. You on board with that?”

  I blink. “Is that a trick question?”

  “No.”

  I blink again. “Has anyone ever said that they don’t want to wake up coming on your mouth?”

  “Blake.” Jonas has that tone again, the exasperated imperial one. “Answer the question.”

  I could remind him that I already signed up for damn near anything he wants to do to me, but I kind of like how he’s continually checking in. No matter how cranky he is normally or how much the asshole he plays when we fuck, Jonas has a nurturing streak that makes my chest feel funny. It’s such a contrast, but no less genuine than the other sides of him.

  So I give him an honest answer. “I would very much like to wake up to your mouth all over my pussy, Daddy.”

  His gaze drops to my mouth and then he’s stalking toward me and yanking me into his arms. “I ought to put that disobedient mouth to good use.”

  My jaw is still a little achy from sucking his cock earlier, but I don’t give a fuck. “If you think that would help.”

  “No, baby girl.” He clasps my throat in a light grip and guides my face up to his. “I don’t think anything but fucking you just shy of comatose will help, and even then you’ll find a way to mouth off.”

  “Probably,” I whisper.

  “Definitely.” Jonas kisses me. It’s nothing like the kiss earlier. Before, he was branding me as his. This feels like… Almost like he’s simply enjoying himself. Enjoying me.

  He lifts his head far too soon. “Shower, Blake. Before I change my mind.”

  I’m weaving on my feet a little, but I’m not about to let something as mundane as exhaustion stop me. I run my hands up his chest. “Would it be so bad to change your mind?”

  He snorts and turns me toward the bathroom, giving me a little push. “Shower.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” I say sweetly. I think I hear him cursing under his breath, but the truth is that a shower sounds like heaven. Especially his shower. I’ve wanted to turn on the facets and see if it’s designed exactly as I suspect.

  Five minutes later, Jonas finds me standing in the shower, just outside the spray of water. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m mad at you.”

  He frowns. “What?”

  I motion at the perfectly constructed shower. “This. This is amazing. The tile work and the way you arranged the shower heads and… Fuck, Jonas, I’m furious I didn’t think of this first.”

  “I’m hardly the first person to do something like this,” he says mildly as he nudges me beneath the spray.

  I duck my head under the water for a moment and then I’m staring at him instead of the shower. Water runs down the lines of his chest and hips and I’m not polite enough not to stare at his cock. He’s still half-hard, which is nearly as unbelievable as this shower. I shake my head and try to focus. “You might not be the first, but this is really Grade A design and don’t pretend otherwise.”

  He shrugs. “It’s what I do.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to remind him that he could be doing it for the Hendersons, but I manage to swallow the words at the last moment. He already said no, and at this point I doubt he’s going to change his mind. Pestering him about it will just muddy up what we have going right now. I’d rather enjoy this weekend and then hit the ground running on Monday with a new plan for that account.

  I focus on using his soap to wash off. In typical bachelor fashion, he has some two-in-one shampoo conditioner thing that makes me cringe a little, but I can’t deny that it smells like sexy man. Or maybe it’s just that I will forever associate Jonas with this scent. I bet I can buy some of this when I get home, just in case I need another hit during a dry spell.

  No, that’s not normal. That’s a weird thing to do. Even weirder than masturbating while sniffing his pillow.

  I really, really can’t believe I did that.

  We finish up showering, and I’m only slightly disappointed that he doesn’t try something. The truth is that the day is catching up with me, and exhaustion has attached weights to my body. I’m practically stumbling by the time I braid my hair and make it back into the bedroom.

  Jonas didn’t stop at changing the sheets. He made the entire bed again. Of course he did.

  He pulls back the comforter and glances at me. “Do you have a specific side to sleep on?”

  “Not really.”

  “I’ll take this side then.”

  It’s only when I climb beneath the covers that I realize he’s between me and the door. There’s absolutely no reason to look into that. I’m sure it’s simply the side he always sleeps on. Still, something warm and strange takes up residence in my chest. It only gets stronger when Jonas rolls toward me, and without a word, tugs me back until he’s spooning me.

  I fall asleep surrounded by him, feeling totally and completely safe…and wake up with Jonas’s tongue in my pussy.

  13

  I stretch a little, which has Jonas bracketing my thighs and pushing them wide in response. There’s a sliver of dim light shining through the curtains, but rain still hammers the windows as violently as it did last night. “What time is it?” I keep my voice low, not wanting to break the strange feeling that permeates the room. As if we’re in an alternate reality, population Jonas and me.

  He gives my pussy another long lick and raises his head enough to say, “Early. Go back to sleep.”

  “Oh, sure thing. I’ll get right on that.” I trail off in a moan as he resumes thoroughly kissing my pussy. It’s slow and decadent as if he has no plans to be anywhere else but between my thighs for the foreseeable future. I str
etch my arms over my head. Better to simply enjoy this and let pleasure sweep me away than to think too hard about what today brings.

  But then, I’ve never been good at being a passive partner.

  He rubs the flat of his tongue against my clit. I reach down and slide my fingers through his hair. “That feels really, really good.”

  “Tastes even better,” he murmurs against me. He shifts back and pushes two fingers into me, twisting his wrist until he finds my G-spot. “Are you going to stay the weekend, Blake?”

  I stare down at the sight of him penetrating me. Obviously I’ve had sex with the lights on plenty of times, but there’s something about watching Jonas’s fingers move in and out of my body, already wet with my desire, that feels particularly filthy. “I said I would.”

  “I’m asking again.” He keeps fucking me with his fingers, but there’s something almost like hesitation in his tone. “Last night was a lot.”

  It’s very, very difficult to focus while he’s doing this, but I don’t want him to stop. I lick my lips. “Was it too much for you?”

  “No.” He exhales slowly. “I am more than happy to spend the rest of the weekend playing games with you and this pretty pussy.” He seems to force himself to stop stroking me, but he doesn’t withdraw his fingers. “But with the power dynamic, you’ll forgive me for checking in.”

  I like how he issues that as a command instead of request. Even when Jonas asks me questions, it’s like he already knows the answers. At least when we’re fucking. He’s watching my face far too closely for me to believe anything but that my next words matter to him. A whole hell of a lot.

  “Jonas.” I like the way his fingers flex inside me when I say his name. So I do it again. “Jonas.” I tug on his hair a little. “Do you feel how wet I am?”

  He doesn’t move. “That’s not an answer.”

  I ignore the quiet censure in his tone and roll my hips. I can’t properly fuck his fingers like this, but it still feels good. “So wet.” I release his hair and drop back to the bed. He still hasn’t moved, but this is hot in an entirely different way. I cup my breasts, plucking at my nipples. “I like our games. I like pretending we’re doing things we shouldn’t, and I like it when you’re disappointed in me. It gets me just as wet as I am from your tongue.” I hold his gaze. “So, no, last night wasn’t too much. It wasn’t in the realm of too much. Nothing happened to change my mind about staying.” If anything, it made me doubt that two more days will be enough to get this man out of my system.