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Negotiation: Daddy P.I. 0.5

Page 17

by E J Frost


  “Yethhir,” I mumble around him and go back to happily sucking on his cock head.

  Logan releases my neck and lowers himself so his chest is resting against my ribs and stomach. Holy shit, he’s heavy. It’s like having a horse roll over on me. I couldn’t shift him if I tried with all my strength. But I love his weight. It makes me feel mastered, controlled, even more than the position and his cock in my mouth. I want to tell him, thank him, but pinioned like this, with my mouth full, all I can do is suck him even more enthusiastically.

  I feel his breath whisper over the skin of my mons before the wet heat of his mouth descends. He seals his mouth over me and sucks hard, making me arch off the bed and squeal around his cock head. Chuckling, Logan sucks until I’m tingling and my clit feels like it’s going to explode. Then he lifts himself off me and slaps my slick, open lips.

  I wail around his cock. My whole body shudders as heat races to my groin. It feels like he’s lit a bonfire between my thighs. Good God. He slaps me again and the bonfire flares to a firestorm, racing up into my belly and down my legs.

  He lowers his belly onto me and cants his hips, pushing his cock a little deeper into my mouth, a move I greet with wild sucking that makes him growl. I shiver to hear that deep, wolfy growl. Every time he growls, I feel like he’s struck a gong deep inside me. The reverberations reach, and heat, me all the way down into my bones.

  He wraps one arm around my leg, holding my knee up while he sucks on the sensitive skin of my inner thigh and rains steady slaps down on my labia. I buck and writhe with the insane heat he’s raising in me, grateful for him pinning me down, or I’d be kicking myself right off the bed.

  “Mmm, that’s beautiful, baby doll,” Logan says, pushing up, shifting his weight backwards and taking away my new favorite toy. I pant and whimper at the loss.

  He reaches down and cups my head, lifting it so I can see down my body. My labia are bright pink, and my clit is so engorged it’s sticking up like a bullet between my inflamed lips.

  “Daddy, Daddy, please,” I beg.

  Logan chuckles. “What’s wrong, baby doll? You anxious to get to the fucking?”

  “Yes, Daddy, please. I’m so ready.”

  “Mmm.” He leans down and kisses me upside-down, which makes me giggle at the brush of his chin against my nose. “I’m pretty ready, too, I’ll admit. You’ve got me hotter than fuck. Slide up.”

  He helps me scoot up so I’m lying fully on the bed, my head and hips on pillows. Logan shucks off his robe and climbs up onto the bed beside me. He admires his handiwork for a moment, stroking my reddened lips, then tracing his fingers up my belly and swirling over my skin. He lifts his fingers to his lips and licks me off him again, then reaches down and slides a finger into me, withdraws and pushes two in, curling his fingertips right against that spot that makes me wild. I gulp and arc up. I’m ready. I’m so ready. But I’m also strangely reluctant. I don’t want this wonderful torture to end, and I want him deep in me when I come.

  “You feel close, baby doll,” he growls.

  I nod. Pretty damn close.

  “You want Daddy to bring you now?”

  I shake my head. I want him in me.

  That wins me a huge grin. “Oh, baby doll, good answer.”

  He moves over me, kneeling between my spread thighs and angling his hips so he can line up his cock and push slowly, oh so slowly, into me.

  I arch to take him. He’s wonderfully thick, stretching me as he pushes deeper. My whole body fires white-hot with the burn of his entry. I whimper and reach for him, then hug myself since I’m not sure if he wants me to touch him.

  “Baby girl,” he groans. “You feel so good. Look at me. Let me see you as I get right down inside.” He leans over me, supporting himself on his forearms and looking down into my eyes. “Touch me, baby.”

  Oh, yes! I reach for him eagerly, running my hands up and down his chest, then curving my arms around the firm barrel of his ribs and lifting myself to rub my breasts against him while he pins my hips to the bed and thrusts, slow and deep. There’s so much sensation. I’m tender from the slapping. He’s all the way in, bottoming out with the deepest strokes. I can’t keep still. My legs clasp his hips restlessly. I shiver and shudder with each thrust. My pussy’s already fisting around him and he just got inside me.

  “What a squirmy little thing you are,” he murmurs to me, which only makes me wriggle harder.

  “Daddy, please can I come?” I whimper.

  “Yeah?” He pushes up on his forearms so he can look into my face. I’m sure I’m a red, sweaty mess, but I don’t care. I’m about to come for the second time tonight and all I care about is the sensation that keeps lifting me, winging me upwards. “Already?”

  I nod so hard my hair flops into my face.

  Logan chuckles as he brushes away the tangles and lowers himself like he’s doing a press-up to kiss me. “Yes, you can come,” he says against my lips.

  I’m not quite to the point of coming on command, although I have no doubt Logan could get me there. But it doesn’t take long. He thrusts hard, giving me bright spikes of pleasure-pain as he bumps my cervix. The friction against my inflamed pussy-lips, the harsh rub of the towel against my abused ass, the prickle of his leg-hair against my stinging calves, they push me over the edge in a few dozen strokes and I’m soaring, spinning, shaking and only his body enclosing mine anchors me. His feral dark eyes hold mine as I come and he growls deep in his chest.

  “Baby doll.”

  I finally lose his eyes when mine roll back and I grab his neck, afraid I really will fly off the bed, I’m convulsing so hard. His growls turn to grunts as my body milks his. He plants himself deep and stops moving, holding me down while I continue to shiver beneath him.

  “Jesus H. Christ, little girl,” he rasps in my ear. “You’ve got me right on the edge and it’s been five whole minutes.”

  “Sorry, Daddy,” I mutter, although I’m not sorry at all, and I’m really glad he’s stopped moving because my bones have turned to jello.

  He chuckles. “You need a minute after that, sweetheart?”

  I nod and loosen my hold on him. I’m clinging to him like a koala baby to its mother and although that’s cute during sex, I haven’t met a guy yet who likes it afterwards.

  Until Logan.

  “Where are you going?” He holds himself up on one forearm while he pulls my legs back around his hips and my arms back around his neck. “Hold on tight because the next ride’s the Big One at Blackpool Pleasure Beach.”

  Having sampled Blackpool’s dubious delights during one of my trips to England, I know he’s talking about a huge roller-coaster. I’m totally fine with him riding me like that, so I squeeze him with my jello-bones and wriggle happily.

  “Can you come again, baby?” he asks, after he’s given me a minute to recover.

  Multiple orgasms are not my best thing, but I don’t care in this moment. I want him to fuck me raw, until I can’t sit down and have to stand the whole way back to Syracuse. “Yes, if you do it hard, Daddy.”

  The wolfy growl works up through his chest again. “Brace yourself, baby, and remember your safe word if it gets too much, because Daddy’s not stopping for any-fucking-thing else.”

  I’m sure I hear my pussy squee, and then I can’t hear anything but the slapping of his skin against mine, his harsh breaths in my ear as he hammers into me.

  I cling tighter to him, trying to take his brutal thrusts. He was not kidding. The pounding he’s giving me makes the first five minutes seem slow and measured by comparison. This is Master Logan, fucking the beejeezus out of his subbie. I hold on to him, lift my knees as high as I can, and let him ream me with his cock. With him pistoning this hard, what were spikes of pleasure-pain become carving daggers in my belly. I howl and beat my heels against his ass, but I wouldn’t ever ask him to stop because thrust by thrust, the pain is tripping that crossed wire in my brain and ecstasy is rising, shimmering, simmering, up through my blood and bone
s to dance right at the surface of my bruised, abraded skin. It’s unbearable, unendurable, and I never want it to stop. Finally, the battering ram tears me open, spills all that sensation over and out of me. I scream with the profound release of it, throwing myself up against his body, forcing his cock even deeper. With a guttural growl, Logan collapses on me and I lie shaking under him, lost in the white haze of my orgasm.

  An evil chuckle in my ear brings me back up from a place I have no name for. It’s not subspace. It’s not little space. It’s silence and white noise and brain fuzz, overloaded nerves and over-stimulated tissues. Except for my heart beating in my ears and deep in my pussy, I can’t feel my body. I’m floating somewhere far above where I lie on his bed, crushed under his hot, sweaty, suffocating weight.

  My foot twitches at his chuckle, the first part of myself I feel connected to. I wriggle a little, and feel his cock like a giant rebar still buried in me.

  “Hard enough for you, naughty baby?” he growls.

  “Yes, Daddy.” My voice is so small compared to his.

  “Good. Turn over. I’m not fucking done with you.”

  Omigod. More? I’m so floppy I don’t think I can even twitch. After two false-starts where I just manage to flail my arms around, Logan takes pity on me, lifts my leg in a way that would be painful if I wasn’t so limp, and rolls me over. He slides his arm under me and grabs my mons. The pressure reignites the stars bursting behind my eyes and I curl against his too-much touch. “Daddy, no.”

  “So sensitive. I love how sensitive you are, Emmy. I adore this needy little cunt.”

  That needy little cunt is pretty crazy about him, too. So much so that I’m totally fine with him calling it a cunt. I’m also totally fine with it when he starts up again without giving me more than two minutes to recover, rolling his hips so he slides within me. He has the most amazing hip action. No wonder his ass is so firm. The motion makes my eyes roll back in my head.

  He starts thrusting, not the insane, agonizing hammering of the last time, but a measured snap of his hips against my ass. He pins me face-down on the bed, his hand in my hair pressing my cheek into the towel beneath me, his other hand gripping my pussy. I thought I couldn’t feel any more mastered than when he held me down in that sixty-nine position, but I was wrong. He’s even more dominant in this position. He’s holding himself up on his elbows and knees, but most of his weight is on me. He’s so much bigger than I am that I’m completely enveloped by his body. He spreads his knees, forcing my legs apart, lifting my hips with the pressure of his palm against my mound. My ass rises and with the next thrust, he’s banging against my cervix again. I wail with the intensity of it.

  Logan grunts, deep and pleased. His hand slides from my hair, under my head to cup my face in his hand. I expect him to pull my head back so he can kiss me, but he doesn’t. He just holds my face as he begins to pump, fucking me hard and deep again. “Don’t touch yourself,” he growls. “Just feel me, Emmy.”

  I wouldn’t touch myself without his permission anyway, and I don’t need any clitoral stimulation, because he’s shoving across my G-spot with every thrust and the unbearable, delicious tension is building again.

  Keeping his hand on my face, Logan releases my pussy, reaches up and grips my hair. Hair-tugging, done right, makes me absolutely wild. Logan knows exactly what he’s doing, pulling hard enough to be perfectly painful without making me feel like he’s tearing my hair out. I writhe under him and he takes that as a signal to unleash on me. His hips hammer against my ass and I go over the edge again, without even reaching for it, making a high whining sound that doesn’t sound human as my whole body shakes, shoulders to toes. As the first wave passes and I think I’m done, Logan grabs my hair tighter and pounds even deeper, drawing out my orgasm into a series of impossible waves that crest and roll as I draw up against him, pushing back against his chest and belly. He groans, again and again, his body flexing deep within me. I feel his hot surge right up into my belly.

  He drops his face against my temple and settles onto me. He leaves his hand on my face, which somehow feels more intimate than having him inside me. Where he remains, softer but still sunk deep, gentler but no less in possession. The energy pulsing between us is almost tender in the aftermath, a licking flame that soothes instead of consuming, but I can still feel it with each ragged breath.

  “Forget something, baby doll?” he whispers after several minutes of quiet, punctuated by our breathing and his playlist, currently Christina Aguilera’s cover of “Beautiful.”

  “Muh-uh?” I can’t think of my own name, much less something I’ve forgotten.

  “I didn’t hear a ‘please’ before, or a ‘ta’ after.”

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” I whisper breathlessly, in part because I’m still remembering how to breathe normally and in part because he’s really, really heavy. “Ta very much for my orgasms.”

  “Little late, sweetheart, but I think we’ll save your punishment for the morning. Thank you for the osso bucco sex, baby doll. You ready for a cup of tea?”

  I twist my neck so I can peer up at him, confused by the non sequitur. At my owl-eye, he chuckles and lifts off me, slowly withdrawing. The touch of cool air across my sand-blasted skin makes me whimper. I draw up into a sticky puddle on the towel, blinking up at him, while he strokes my arm.

  “Tea?” he asks again. “I got you peppermint.”

  He did? “Yes, please, Daddy.”

  “You want to wait here while I make it or do you want to come downstairs with me? I can carry you if you want.”

  I inch over and hold my arms up as much as I can, which gets them just to wrist-height above my chest.

  Logan chuckles and kisses the tip of my nose. “Someone is very cute when she’s covered in afterglow.”

  That’s a game I can play. “You, Daddy.”

  “Two guesses, and neither of them is me.”

  “Still you, Daddy,” I tell him.

  “Still not me, you silly baby. Stay there. I’m going to get my robe.”

  He slides out of bed. How does he have so much energy after that deranged werewolf sex? His neck and chest are a little flushed, and his cock is redder than if he’d been jerking off with sandpaper, but otherwise he doesn’t even look like he’s sweating. It’s not fair. I’m a puddle of goo and he could have just come in from a refreshing stroll.

  “I don’t like you, Daddy,” I tell him.

  He lifts an eyebrow. “You seemed to like me a minute ago.”

  “I did like you then, but I don’t like you now. You’re unfair.”

  “Am I?” He shrugs into his robe. “Let’s see how unfair you think I am when I paddle your ass for breaking my rules.”

  “Unfair.” I stick my lower lip out at him. “And a giant meanie.”

  He tosses the edges of the towel over me like he’s folding up a burrito, pulling up one edge between my legs so I feel diapered. Then he scoops me up, tight against his chest, my legs around his waist, holding me like a baby koala. Just like he let me cling to him during sex. My brain short-circuits.

  “Why am I unfair?” he asks.

  “You’re not so unfair right now,” I manage, melting into his hold.

  “No, you like being held this way, don’t you, fluffball?” He slides his forearm under my butt, holding me securely, and strides out of the room. “I’ll ask one more time and you can be sure I’ll be adding licks to your paddling for each time you fail to answer me, why am I unfair?”

  I blow a raspberry in his neck, which has him barking with laughter and nearly dropping me. I squeal and cling tighter.

  “You fucking naughty little monkey. You won’t be able to sit down for a month. Answer my question.”

  “You’re unfair because you’re not even hot and sweaty after all that and I’m gross and covered with stuff.”

  He chuckles and squeezes me so tight I gasp. “Covered with stuff, huh? I like you covered with stuff. In fact, next time I might pull out at the end and really cover
you with stuff, see if that makes you a little less lippy afterwards.”

  “Ick, Daddy.”

  He turns onto the stairs and takes one hand from my back to grip the banister. I smack wet kisses on his neck to thank him for being so careful with me.

  “Speaking of stuff, baby doll, I should have asked before fucking you bareback and coming in you. I know you’re clean and you know I am, but if you want me to use a condom, for any reason or no reason, now or ever, don’t even think twice before telling me so.”

  “Ta, Daddy.” I assumed after he asked for my test results, and showed me his, that he’d want to have sex without a condom. Pretty much all of my Doms have, except Matthew, of course. Until this year, I haven’t been able to: birth control was a struggle for me until my Ob/Gyn recommended the progestin implant I have now. I’m glad I’m able to with Logan.

  “I don’t want you to use a condom,” I reassure him.

  “Okay, but if you change your mind, don’t be shy about telling me, Emmy.”

  Emmy? I love it. Even better than Kitty, which I really liked him calling me and was sorry that he stopped after I told him my real name.

  “Can I call you Logie?”

  “Fuck no.” He releases the banister at the bottom of the stairs, adjusts me in his arms and hugs me tight to him again. “I think I’ll just carry you around all the time like this. I’ll get you one of those baby-carry things.”

  “I can walk all my myself, Daddy,” I huff at him.

  “I don’t think you want to put that to the test right now, noodle-legs. Besides, I could cut a hole in the bottom of the carrier and stick my dick up through it and then I could fuck you all the time. I could carry you around impaled on my cock.”

  “Okay!” I agree wholeheartedly with that suggestion, bouncing in his arms.

  Logan laughs and squeezes me. “See? Daddy has some good ideas.”

  “Daddy has lots of good ideas. I like Daddy’s ideas about mandatory condom use in porn, and Daddy’s ideas about my freaky rape fantasy, and Daddy’s ideas about pink towels and purple butt plugs, and Daddy’s ideas about not sharing me, and Daddy’s ideas about giving me all the orgasms.”

 

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