But damn, it had felt invigorating to retaliate in such a manner.
Logan said he worked under a contractual agreement with the FBI... so did that mean he was something like a cop? Kind of? Maybe?
Between her fantasies of getting spanked by a cop and her vivid fantasy of fucking a mechanic in a garage—bent over a car—Charlotte was probably pretty sunk in terms of holding out and staying emotionally unattached to Mr. Logan.
Fuck!
Of course, she’d be kidnapped by someone who fulfilled both of her masturbation daydreams.
“Come with me.” Logan sauntered toward his desk, the muscles in his broad back rippling with the movement, his tight blue jeans hugging his ass and thick thighs.
No doubt that huge cock bulging between his legs would have me screaming.
Keeping a distance between them, Charlotte followed him cautiously. She still wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth, but it sure as hell made sense. Her fucking mother seemed desperate to marry her off to someone rich, and it would sure as fuck solve all sorts of problems for her. Christ, that woman had been the bane of her existence for most of her life.
Before sitting, Logan unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, his larger than life cock peeping from behind the waistband of his boxers.
Fucking hell! He’s hung like a horse.
Shoving his pants and briefs down, the massive shaft bobbled free, bobbing rhythmically, the purple head large and seeping generously.
Licking her lips, Charlotte was riveted. He could split her in two with a rod of that size. Jesus Christ!
Shuffling to his chair, she watched his cock sway with the movement, and he sat down with his immense treasure jutting upward. Her mouth would barely go around his girth. Truly this man was... blessed. And a blessing to others as well, no doubt.
“You’re gawking, girl.”
Raising her eyes to look into his luscious green pools, she couldn’t help but notice the pompous grin gracing his angled face. The man was truly gorgeous. His long fingers encircled his length, stroking himself gracefully.
“Uhm...”
“That’s right. Gotcha speechless, don’t I? You like what you’re seeing, Charlie.”
Damn him!
She tilted her chin up; she had more pride than this. “I’m not Charlie. Charlotte Anne.”
He shook his head and growled, “Kneel under my desk, Charlie.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.” His words were laced with an edge that warned, Don’t push me, girl.
Charlotte toyed with defying him but then worried about the condition of her ass if she disobeyed. “Okay.”
Logan stopped stroking his cock, raising his eyebrows at her. “Put a handle on that.”
“Yes... Daddy.”
Why does saying that phrase bring me such... joy?
Her heart leaped within her chest, hammering against her ribcage. Fear, excitement, and lust. They were a bad combo, and one she’d never had before but hoped she’d continue to feel. The racing and tumbling of emotions had her adrenaline pumping.
Staring into those emerald green eyes, with a soft rolling curl draping down the middle of his forehead along with the adorable dimple, Charlotte swore she’d let him call her anything and make her do anything as well.
I need to preserve my fucking dignity and assert my independence.
Nancy Winslow hadn’t sent her daughter to Miss Collette’s Southern Etiquette classes and debutante cotillions for her to nonchalantly throw it away, walking around naked and doing the first thing a gorgeous, chiseled, and muscular man told her to do. No. One must show grace, decorum, and fortitude in the face of danger and conflict.
“I gave you an order, girl.”
She startled at his voice and stared at his cock again, and then gazed at the little cubbyhole under his desk. His slender, work-hewn hand, stained with diesel fuel, gripped his cock tightly, stroking the silky rod, the small hole seeping the excess of his arousal.
Charlotte didn’t have trouble guessing why he wanted her kneeling before him... and she wasn’t sure she would mind the task either. No matter how much her family would have blanched at her thoughts right now.
She could hear Nancy now if she were here. Charlotte Anne, Mummy needs a long lie down on her fainting couch.
The nakedness of her body seemed more evident now, and she fought the urge to cover her sex and breasts before crouching before him. As she approached, the tops of his muscular thighs were visible, the wiry hair masculine and thick, as was the dark curly patch of hair surrounding his balls and the base of his superior length.
Before she could even bend her knees, however, his free hand cupped her bare sex, his middle finger slipping between her slit, the puffy lips protruding, and covering the digit with her pillowy flesh.
Her juices gushed within her channel, sliding over his finger and hand. Her body couldn’t hide the lust roiling within her core and belly; the pace of her breathing increased, and she gasped, her hips thrusting, her pussy grinding along with his hand.
“Kneel.” He pulled his hand away, wiping his dripping finger over his top lip, and he sniffed loudly.
Humiliation rose within her, and her body became warm with her blush. Awkwardly she dropped to her knees, the thud uncomfortable and painful, and instinctually she placed both of her hands on his knees, seeking his approval and comfort. And even though he had created this situation of unease, she still needed—wanted—his approval.
“Hands behind your back. Your defiant, sassy attitude has caused you to receive a spanking, many outfit changes, and now this.” He paused, thrusting his hips upward. “You’ll give me the best blowjob you’ve ever given and swallow every drop while I do some paperwork, closing up my day here.”
What did he just say?
“Open your mouth, princess.”
Charlotte knew she should fight. Should scream or at least claw her way out of this situation. But did she want to fight? How many other chances would she have to fulfill her fantasies?
The intoxicating scent of diesel and engine grease. Mmmmm.
What was it about the smell? She knew she shouldn’t like it. Had been trained to want the finer things in life. Was this her way of rebelling against her parents? Probably.
Speaking of which, she’d have to call her mother or ask Logan to give her proof of her mother’s financial demise. She just couldn’t fathom how this could have happened. Her father, Thomas Winslow, was a self-made rich man, having his own real estate business.
Wouldn’t that mean his finances would have kept her mother afloat, even if she had spent more than her generational money could have sustained?
“Charlie, what are you doing?” Logan’s hand lazily stroked his cock, his gaze narrowed.
“I guess I don’t remember.”
‘I guess I don’t remember.’ What kind of idiot says that—or admits it?
The corner of his mouth tipped up into a grin, and he cleared his throat, running his hand over his mouth, obviously doing his best to not laugh at her stupidity. “I believe I asked you to open your mouth so I could ram my cock down your throat.”
“Logan... Sir... Daddy?”
He narrowed his gaze a bit, tilting his head to the side. “Yes, baby girl.”
Her heart fluttered.
Baby girl.
Had anybody ever called her baby girl? Ever?
Her father was always busy at work. Thomas Winslow had married Nancy wanting a trophy wife for all his tech meetings and real estate ventures with billionaires. Taking time to be with his daughter was a low priority, and most days, Charlotte never made it on his list of things to do—even if it was a list of things he didn’t want to do, she didn’t make it on that list either.
The very thought of being someone’s baby girl... anybody’s baby girl had been a fantasy. Something she read about late at night with her daddy romance novels. The novels she didn’t tell anybody about. The books that she kept in a separate file on her e
-reader, ensuring that anyone who mistakenly picked up her e-reader would never see her secret fetishes. Nobody had an inkling that she desired somebody who would take control of her life, treasuring her, finding her adorable and cute, laughing at her antics, and someone who demanded she call him Daddy. He would be someone who would foster the little side of her, disciplining her when she was naughty, and yet someone who would fuck her senseless, bringing her numerous, earthshattering orgasms.
No, Charlotte was pretty sure that she had never been called baby girl.
“Baby, you are so far off.” His callused finger tilted her chin up, and he had stopped stroking his cock, which still stood at attention. His musky scent wafting to her nostrils, her mouth watered, and she was anxious to feel the weight of him on her tongue, the wiry hair tickling her nose. She desired his manly humid scent. The very thought had her pussy weeping.
“Tell me what’s going on in that mind, tell me why your eyes are misting with tears and, more important, tell me why you can’t focus for even twenty seconds on what I’m fucking saying.” He stroked his thumb down the side of her cheek, murmuring, “Your skin is like silk, and I’m sure my normally sensitive hands, which are now sporting some pretty intense calluses, feel very rough on your cheeks. I apologize for that, baby.”
Clearing her throat, she whispered, “It’ll take some getting used to, and I typically don’t date people in this socioeconomic class, but I’m not averse to it either.”
Logan quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, the socially elite Charlotte Anne Winslow is somehow acquiescing to a grease monkey. How can that be?” Logan’s comment dripped with sarcasm, and part of her wanted to slap the smirk off his face, and yet part of her was deeply embarrassed at how rude she’d been and how she’d portrayed her character poorly.
“Well, I won’t lie. I wasn’t raised to even think of dating a mechanic. An FBI agent or whatever you are, yes. But, even then, my mother would probably blanch.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “She’d agree to anything or anyone who would help her financial situation.”
“At some point, we’re going to have to discuss this because I can’t even fathom how this has happened, Logan.”
“Trust me when I say we’re not discussing it now. You still owe me a blowjob, and my balls need relief. However, you, my dear, will find no relief until your attitude improves.” Logan tapped her bottom lip with his forefinger. “You have a service to provide me.” He reached for his cock, and he bounced the sizeable purple head on her mouth and said, “Open wide, Charlie.”
God, she hated that name. How the fuck did he come up with that? She gritted her back teeth, glaring in his direction but smartly keeping her comments to herself. Instead, she opened her mouth wide and he pushed slowly into her, giving her time to adjust to his girth and length.
Fisting both hands into her long tresses, he eased back, growling, “Hands behind your back, girl.”
The vulnerability required to put her hands behind her back was almost too much. She wanted to do as he asked, be his good girl, but was worried about the risk as well.
Charlotte shifted on her knees and realized that overriding her anxiousness would be a huge test. Thankfully Logan waited patiently, giving her time to process and consent. Slowly she complied, reaching behind her and lacing her fingers together, preventing herself from easily disobeying.
“That’s a good girl. See? It’s not so hard, and good behavior is rewarded. You’ll see.” Logan pushed a stray piece of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, winking at her. “I’m going to push forward now, so you need to back up further into this cubbyhole. I’m going to finish doing my paperwork while you lick me. Take your time. Go slow, explore and investigate but, whatever you do, don’t let up or ease back unless I permit you.”
Charlotte scooted back until her ass pressed against the cold metal plate that at least hid her ass from anyone who would unexpectedly walk into the garage. He had told her it was the end of the day, and he didn’t anticipate anybody coming in but who the fuck knew.
The area was smaller than Charlotte would have liked, and she was crouched close to the floor, but she had to admit the cold metal gave her a modicum of relief if she pressed her hot, sore bottom against it. Trying to talk around his cock, she mumbled incoherently.
Logan pulled his chair back, slipping from the clutch of her lips. “What are you trying to say, Charlie?”
“I’m not sure I can keep my hands behind my back in this position; there’s not enough room, and I may need to be on my hands and knees.”
“See? What a good girl you’ve become in such a short amount of time. Yes, I’ll allow it. You may rest on your hands and knees.”
He shoved himself back into her mouth and continued to work, shuffling papers.
Charlotte gripped him tightly between her lips, suctioning and drawing his cock deeper into her mouth. She worked herself over his penis until she had almost, but not quite, his full length down her throat. She gagged around him, her eyes watering.
“That’s right, girl. You choke on it. We’re going to keep working on this until you can take my length. I don’t expect you to take all of it tonight, but I’m sure as fuck going to try so you better get used to it and don’t you dare vomit on me. Do you hear?”
Charlotte nodded her head and knew he could feel the movement, hoping her response would be taken positively.
But if she had to admit it, the thought did run across her mind that she could bite and injure him, escaping, but then Charlie was completely naked so that it would require getting dressed and knowing him he’d catch her before she could leave.
Charlotte had been taught and trained for years to never let a man take advantage of her, showing a bit of her courageous fighting spirit.
Pulling her lips back, Charlotte grazed her teeth along his silky skin; his cock jerked, bouncing off the roof of her mouth. She slowly and daringly scraped along his length—the full extent.
His deep, gravelly voice raked over her body, vibrating to her core. “You pull those teeth back now, Charlotte Anne, or I’ll put an open mouth gag on you and pound you like a glory hole.” And to add to his verbal warning, in case that didn’t almost make her wet herself, he fisted her hair, yanking on it until the burn had her shouting around his cock.
She opened wide, covering her teeth with her lips once again and played it safe.
Fucker.
Charlotte’s mouth grew sore, the muscles aching in her jaw.
How fucking long will this continue?
Rolling her tongue, she lolled the head from one side to the other, flopping it around lackadaisically in her mouth.
“I’m not a butterscotch drop, girl. Put a little effort into my needs and comfort or I’ll decide you need intense instruction.”
Unable to hold back her anger, and not feeling she should conceal her real feelings, she growled and sat back, refusing to comply any longer.
Pushing his chair back, Logan ducked his head, dangling his hands between his legs, drawing her attention to his heavy ball sac resting on the edge of his chair.
Charlotte’s lips tingled, numb with the activity, and she did not doubt that they were red and irritated.
“I’m done.” Sitting back on her haunches, she exhaled slowly. Exhausted. Fuck, she must have been sucking him for an hour by now.
“Brat. It’s been...” He pressed the button on his phone. “You’ve only been doing this for twenty minutes. Keep going.”
“No!” Enough was fucking goddamn enough. Charlotte slammed the heels of her hands into the center of his chest and forcefully shoved him away, the back of the chair bouncing off the concrete walls, almost tumbling over. He braced himself with the surrounding cabinets, preventing the impending disaster.
Scurrying out from the cramped space, Charlotte screamed, “Fuck you!”
Once upright, she made the mistake of making eye contact with her angry captor. His wide green eyes were only overshadowed by his open mouth, surpri
se evident on his features. Quickly the astonishment of her actions was replaced with a stern jaw, his teeth gritting, and a seething, determined dom sprang into action.
Ignoring the fact that his cock was still erect and hard, he lunged out of the chair, hiking his pants up, attempting to grab her but she was just out of arm’s reach.
Her feet scrabbled for purchase on the floor, and Charlotte decided she’d better skedaddle out of the way immediately. Pivoting, she ran, only to find he’d succeeded in snatching her by the hair, tugging her painfully backward, and then with a pinch to her ear, he dragged her back to the desk, bending her naked form over the cold hard metal. The greenish-gray desktop was covered with dust and grease.
Fuck, I’ll be filthy.
He seized the wide leather belt that had been tossed recklessly to the desk previously, gripping it tightly in his fist, and he pushed the large silver buckle aside.
“Oh, no!” Charlotte’s heart pounded within her chest. She didn’t think through her actions, hadn’t taken it to completion and contemplated what the consequences would be for shouting no and shoving him into the wall.
“Oh, yes, Charlie. You asked for this.” He snapped the leather across the meatiest part of her ass, and she clenched, screeching with the pain attached to the line of fire.
“I’m not a bad daddy. If you had asked me nicely, I would have given you a break and made sure you were compensated with your own orgasms as well. But you’ll find, little girl, that I don’t like willful disobedience and disrespect.” He pressed his warm hand into the small of her back. “Turn your head, Charlie.”
She did as he requested, not wanting to see the belt crashing to her vulnerable mounds. The hard leather smacked against her skin. The sting permeating not only the surface but to the muscle beneath, she rocked on her hips. If it hadn’t been for his firm grip, she could have avoided some of the swats, but he wouldn’t allow it. She struggled to move even a fraction of an inch. Gripping the farthest edge of the desk, her knuckles were white with the strain, her fingernails aching.
“Ooooh. Shit. Please. Please, Daddy.”
Harsh Daddy Page 3