Babydaddy To Go: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Adams, S. C.

  “Oh god,” is my pant, breasts dangling as I lean forwards once more. “Oh my god.”

  But Nate isn’t having it. He slowly slides a finger into my pulsing channel and the sensation makes my pussy clench around his hand.

  “That’s it baby girl,” he rasps. “Enjoy it.”

  But my man doesn’t stay still for long. Slowly, he withdraws his digits and brings them to his mouth, sucking the sweet female nectar down his throat.

  “Fuuuuck,” is his low, guttural growl. “You’re so fucking sweet, Lissie.”

  And with that, I almost collapse. I’ve never been this bad before. Sure, I’m not completely innocent, but having a man stroke my back hole and then taste my nectar? The juices are flowing like a river between my legs now.

  But my man wants more. The alpha male can’t get enough, and Nate turns me back around roughly. “I think we need to take this to the bedroom.”

  “Oh,” I gasp, nodding my acquiescence. “Yes, please.” Wow, I’ve turned into a hussy for sure. As fluids trail down my thighs, Nate swings me into his arms and moves into the small, dark bedroom before plomping me onto the bed. My curves bounce everywhere and I squeal with surprise. Plus, Nate has managed to keep all of his clothes on while I’m completely naked. I fumble with his belt, but he pushes me down on the bed instead.

  “We’ll get to that,” he rasps, blue eyes flashing. “Let’s take care of you first.”

  I’m not sure what he means until I feel his hot breath against my core. His tongue darts out and barely touches my swollen clit, but it’s enough to send shivers through my body.

  “Oh,” I moan. “Yes!”

  No one has touched me there before. And now that I’ve had it, I’m addicted. Nate, thankfully, senses my desire. He dives head first into my aching pussy, licking and caressing until I can’t breathe. Just before I reach my climax, he pulls his head back and smirks up at me.

  “No, sweetheart, not yet. I want you to cum with me inside you.” Oh god, yes.

  “Please, Nate,” I beg. “Now. I need you.”

  But the alpha shakes his head as he chuckles and crawls up my body. “Like I said, sweetheart, not until I’m ready. I fantasized about this moment all night last night.” I nod again, my body open like a flower.

  “Then make it real,” I breathe. “Make me yours, big guy.”

  And for the first time all morning, Nate obeys my command. His clothes are off in a flash, and he’s on me before I can catch of glimpse of that massive, muscular body. But it’s all good because Nate kisses me tenderly, caressing my cheek with one gentle finger as his dick probes my tiny hole.

  “Are you ready?” he rasps.

  “Yes. I want you, Nate. Please, fuck me.”

  A light comes into those blue eyes and he angles his hips above mine.

  “As you wish,” comes that low growl. And then it happens. He pushes my legs apart, and I feel a deep pressure against my opening. With a thrust, Nate’s tip is buried between my drenched pussy lips. Oh my god! He’s absolutely huge and I mewl and squirm beneath him, impaled on a giant horse cock. How is this happening? I can’t move at all, the enormous rod in my sweet spot making me shake and squirm involuntarily.

  “I can’t!” is my helpless cry, small hands flying at his back. “Oh god, you’re too big!”

  He breathes against my neck.

  “Relax, sweetheart,” comes that low growl. “That’s why I didn’t want to let you see me before. Most women get scared, my cock is so fucking huge. But I knew you could take it. You’re young and elastic, and I know your pussy’s up to the challenge.”

  But I’m not so sure. He’s so giant that I feel like I’m being torn apart and I buck again, uselessly.

  “I can’t!” is my cry. “I can’t, I can’t!”

  But Nate won’t take no for an answer. He kisses me soothingly, staying completely still above my form. “Shhhh,” is his soothing growl. “It’ll get better, I promise.”

  And sure enough, my body begins to relax. In fact, it begins to enjoy the deep penetration, my walls juicing around him once more as the folds swell and cushion him.

  “Ahhhh,” is my delighted moan, the tears drying on my cheeks. “Oh god.”

  “That’s it,” Nate croons in my ear. “Enjoy the dicking sweetheart, because it only gets better from here on out.”

  And then he begins to move inside me, pushing up even further if possible before pulling out. Hot juices spill from my hole, coating his rock hard shaft and I mewl again, my sweet vag pulling him deep inside again and again.

  “That’s it,” he growls again, a dark flush coming over his cheek. “Your pussy wants it. I knew you were a dirty girl.”

  And with that, we begin to move in sync. I lift my hips and pull my knees up so that his massive cock goes all the way in, and Nate hits me somewhere so sweet that an electric shock pulses through my slit, making me scream with pleasure.

  “Yes,” I pant. I’ve never felt anything so good in my life. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  “You’re so tight, baby,” he moans. “So good, Lissie.”

  And then it happens. He and I careen over the edge at the same time, my pussy pulsing and clamping on his massive member as it bursts with semen, the hot lashes of virile sperm spraying all over my insides. I moan and clench, my cunt milking him for more and more and more as his balls drain themselves, the cum spilling from between our bodies.

  But it’s not enough. As soon as his dick stops pumping, Nate seizes my eyes with his.

  “Get on your stomach,” comes that low growls. “I want you from behind so I can see your thick ass.”

  And like a slut, I immediately flip over and lift my hips, showing him my everything. Except this time, it’s a sloppy pussy with his cum dripping from my hole. I’d do anything to feel that full again.

  But to my surprise, instead of nailing me deep immediately, Nate leans forward and slowly licks up that dirty cream pie. I gasp. Oh my god, a man is licking his sperm from my used twat, and I love it.

  “That’s right,” he chuckles from in back of me, licking his lips. “Warm and fresh, served straight from the source.”

  And with that Nate rears up and impales my fully once more. This time, his sword lances deep into my abdomen, and I cry out once more, pussy pulsing with need and lust. I’m getting fucked by my dream man, and it’s just so good.

  “Scream my name, baby,” he grunts. His thrusts get faster and faster. “I’m gonna fill you up until you’re overflowing with my seed. Scream again, sweetheart.”

  And I can’t resist. This man has taken me to the heavens and beyond, and yet I just want more.

  “Please, Nathaniel. Yes, yes, yes!”

  He reaches between us to rub my clit and I squeal, big Double Ds pressed into the mattress as he pounds me from behind. Obscene sucking noises sound out as that giant rod barrels into my pussy again and again.

  “Come for me, Alyssa,” is his strained moan.

  “Yes, Nathaniel. Yes, Yes, YES!”

  He buries himself deep one last time, that fat thickness pulsing and twitching like crazy. I can feel his virility spurting from his rigid member, hot and wet in my insides. My own climax wracks my body and I cry out again, my pussy taken so good. I want him in me always, at all times, and I’m not ashamed about the wanting.

  But after a few minutes, Nate pulls himself out and grabs his clothes. What? No sweet caresses and whispered words of love? Evidently not, because without a word, he disappears into the bathroom. The water jerks on for a couple minutes then turns off. He must have been rinsing himself off.

  And the man moves fast. When he emerges from the bathroom, he’s fully dressed, wearing his embroidered chef’s jacket and black pants.

  “I have to get to class,” he says abruptly. I expect him to at least offer me a goodbye kiss, but instead, the man strides towards the door. “I suggest you do the same,” are his curt words.

  “What?” I ask.

  Nate doesn’t answer. He’s shift
ed into Chef Nathaniel already. I wrap my sheet around my shoulders and follow him, but he doesn’t turn around. And with that, the man’s gone, disappearing through my front door. There wasn’t even a courtesy, “See you later, you have my number.”

  I’m completely stunned. What was that? I thought we were onto something, but apparently I was wrong. What man has hot sex and then disappears like a ghost? What the hell? Tiredly, I rub my eyes. My body aches all over, and shamefully, as I walk back to the bedroom, a hot drip of goop slides down my leg, his semen branding me all over again. Oh god, oh god. What have I done?

  But one thing is clear. I do need to get going. My new bedside alarm – added after I overslept yesterday – says it’s nearly eight. If I’m going to make that eight fifteen train, I need to hurry.

  My uniform is clean thanks to a quick wash I did last night. I’m going to have to make it last longer than one day this time. I can’t be doing laundry every day.

  Once I’m dressed, I grab the lunch I prepared myself last night. It’s the rest of my leftover tacos, which is an annoying and sad reminder of Nate’s back and forth, but I don’t want them to go to waste.

  The mess I left in the kitchen from breakfast will have to wait. The clock shows just after eight, so I grab my bag and my textbook and head out the door.

  I bought a metro card yesterday, so I swipe it and get onto the concourse easily. The exact train is a little harder to figure out. I remember looking it up, but there are six different options in this subway station. I check the map to be sure. I need to take the F train, which arrives in four minutes.

  Once I’ve figured that out, the rest is easy. The train shows up a minute after I find the right platform. Lucky for me, it’s not too crowded. I manage to find a seat and pull out my textbook. The pasta chapter begs to be read, but I can’t stop thinking about the passion Nate and I just shared.

  He was so dominant and controlling, and I loved it. I didn’t realize I was the submissive type until Nate took over. I liked being told what to do.

  At the next stop, a man who looks to be in his late twenties takes the seat beside me.

  “Hey,” he says. I smile at him and try to return to my book, but he reaches over me and closes it. What a jerk! Who does that? “What’s your name?”

  “Rose,” I say with a smirk. Grams said I should have a fake name prepared in case something like this happened. There should always be a plan to counter unwanted attention. My middle name is Rose, so it’s easy to remember.

  “Nice to meet you, Rose. I’m Trevor.” He tries to touch my cheek and I pull away. “You’re beautiful, Rose. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  Earlier today, in fact, I think, but I don’t say anything. You’re not supposed to respond to guys like this. It’ll only make them think they have a chance.

  Trevor scoots closer to me. I try to slide away, but I’m against the train’s wall. There’s nowhere for me to go.

  “Please stop,” I ask.

  “You like it, baby. Don’t lie. You’re just dying for my attention.”

  “No,” I tell him. “Leave me alone.”

  Trevor still won’t take a hint. He strokes my cheek for the second time. That’s it, I can’t take this. I stand up to get away from him, but there are a bunch more people on the train now and nowhere for me to go. Trevor stands to follow me.

  An arm wraps around my waist, startling me. “There you are,” says a familiar voice. “I was worried about you, baby.”

  I look up to find Nate next to me, pulling me against his side. Trevor looks between us and huffs, sitting back down.

  Nate tugs me towards the other end of the train.

  “Thank you, Nathaniel,” I whisper. I use his full name since we’re in public. He doesn’t seem to go by ‘Nate’ in real life, but since that’s how he introduced himself I can’t stop using it in my head.

  “That guy was being a jerk. I heard you tell him to stop. One of those people around you should have stepped in to help.”

  I agree with him. There were a bunch of people around who could have told Trevor to cool his jets, but none of them did.

  “I appreciate you coming to my rescue.”

  Nate nods and keeps his arm secure around my waist until our stop. As soon as we’re off the train, his arm drops back to his own side. I guess Chef Nathaniel is making his appearance once again.

  I don’t understand him. One second, Nate is warm and loving. The next, he’s ice cold. Which version is the real him?

  At this point, I’m not sure I want to find out.

  I sigh. Nathaniel is a few paces ahead of me already. We’re going to the same place, so I can’t avoid him. Instead, I do the only thing I can do.

  I hoist my bag up onto my shoulder and follow him to class.

  10

  Nathaniel

  Tuesday

  Samantha is once again wearing a revealing chef’s coat, but that’s not why I’m distracted by her kitchenette. Alyssa is there too, with her coat buttoned to the top while working hurriedly on her pasta dough. All I see when I look at her is the lush, nude woman I made love to earlier this morning.

  A swear from the other side of the room captures my attention. One of the students cut himself somehow. How did that happen? They’re not supposed to be using knives right now.

  I drag the first aid kit over to his station and bandage up his small cut. He’s back to cooking a few seconds later.

  Now is as good a time as any to survey the room. Instead of beginning the day with a lecture, I sent the students directly to their stations to make their pasta dough. It has to rest for at least forty five minutes before cutting, so once they’re done we’ll have the first part of our discussion.

  The groups on the right side of the room are doing okay, with the exception of the kid who cut himself. I instruct some of them on better techniques, but for the most part I let them be. Yesterday was a test day. Today, we’re trying to learn and become better chefs. Everyone is afraid of me, which was my goal. That means they listen and accept my advice. It also means they distrust some of my praise, but that’s a small risk for a great reward.

  The left side is having more trouble.

  “Cassie,” I say, looking at the oldest student’s pile of flour. “Are you sure you measured properly? That looks like a lot of flour. You should only have about two cups for this egg noodle recipe.”

  “Two cups?” she gasps, staring down at her mound. “I swear the recipe said five cups!”

  “As discussed yesterday, part of our first unit is to learn how to properly read recipes. Please look over it again and make the proper amount of dough.”

  Cassie sighs. She scoops her volcano of flour into the trash bin and begins measuring again.

  “I’m sorry, chef,” Cassie apologizes.

  “It’s an easy mistake, but don’t make it again.”

  If I hadn’t noticed her excess of ingredients, her noodles would have come out terribly. I make a mental note to gently remind students to check and double check recipes during this unit. Eventually, we’ll get to the innovation part of the class. For now, I need to know these students can handle the basics.

  The next group is doing okay, but the one after is making a mess.

  “Joey, what’s going on here?”

  He lifts his hands out of the eggy dough.

  “I’m kneading like you taught us.”

  “Your technique is fine,” I tell him truthfully. “The problem is, you used too many eggs. How many did you put in the dough?”

  “Five,” Joey admits “I put in the three from the recipe but it looked too dry. I added another egg, but that didn’t help, so I added one more.”

  “Class!” I shout loud enough for everyone to hear me. “Please, please focus on your recipes. It’s important to learn how to follow directions before you can start breaking them.”

  Cassie and Joey look equally embarrassed. I didn’t want to do it that way, but I can’t have all my students screwing up lik
e this. I’d like at least one of them to make an edible meal for me to taste later this afternoon.

  Finally, I arrive at Samantha and Alyssa’s kitchenette. Samantha’s dough is too sticky, so I tell her to add more flour. She looks genuinely surprised that I’m telling her she’s not perfect. I probably shouldn’t have laid it on so thick yesterday. She already doesn’t seem like the kind of person who takes criticism well and I praised her endlessly on her first day. Samantha probably thinks she’s the best chef in the class when that’s the farthest thing from being true.

  Alyssa is kneading her dough like it broke her heart. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s pretending that ball of eggs and flour is my head.

  “Ease up,” I say too loudly. “You’re going to end up with a tough dough. Is that what you want?”

  She doesn’t respond which makes me angry.

  “Look at me when I’m talking to you, chef! Are you trying to make a tough dough?”

  “No,” she answers meekly.

  “Then knead like I demonstrated at the beginning of class! You should start over at this point. You’ve already ruined this batch.”

  I grab for the trash can and try to toss her stiff hunk of uncooked bread into the trash. Alyssa stops me with a small hand on my bicep.

  “Don’t you dare,” she says quietly. The words are strong but there’s a telling waver in her voice. I don’t imagine she stands up to people often.

  “I already told you, this batch is destroyed. It will never make a delicious pasta. Even after boiled, it’ll taste stale and stiff.”

  “Then that’s how it’ll be! I don’t think you’re right, though. I think it’ll be fine.”

  I stand closer so she has to crane her neck to meet my eyes. “Who is the instructor here?”

  “You are.”

  “Then why are you disobeying me? I’m telling you that you screwed up your dough. You should have followed the instructions but you didn’t. Now throw it away and start again!”