My Boyfriend’s Boxer Daddy Read Online Lena Little

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
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All the sensations combine, and I feel like my head is spinning. It's overwhelming—the feeling of his cock pistoning in and out of my back hole, his fingers on my clit, the blindfold covering my eyes, the handcuffs keeping me restrained, unable to see or touch.

"Oh, Porter!" I'm teetering on the edge. Just a little more and I'm going to explode.

"Come for me, Bailey." Porter's hips slam into my ass, and his breath is hot and ragged in my ear. "Come all over Daddy's cock, baby girl. Come on."

I open my mouth to answer and the most powerful orgasm of my life crashes over me, Porter's name becoming a shout in the air. My knees go weak, and Porter's hand closes around my throat, squeezing gently and holding me up as he keeps thrusting into my ass.

"Fuck, Bailey," he groans, his cock twitching as he fills me up. "Oh, fuck."

We stay like that for a minute, both of us catching our breaths. Porter's fingers run through my hair, and he pulls the blindfold off my eyes. He looks completely debauched and incredibly sexy, his black hair tousled, his whiskey eyes practically glowing with lust.

"Bailey..."

"Porter…"

We both speak at the same time and I laugh, wrapping my bound hands behind his neck. He kisses me tenderly and unlocks the cuffs, setting me gently back on my feet. I lean against the table, watching him clean himself up before coming over and wiping me down as well. He's so gentle with me. My big, strong, older man is always so careful, so protective.

I've never felt safer than when I'm in Porter's arms, and he's showing me all kinds of things about myself that I didn't know. But how do I say something that big?

"Bailey?"

I jump, realizing I spaced out. "What?"

"You zoned out for a second, sweetheart. Are you okay?"

"I'm good." I smile, but I can feel that it's a little nervous. I adjust my dress and pull my panties back up, wincing just a little from soreness.

Porter hums in disapproval. "Sore? We can't have that. Let me run you a bath."

In minutes, we're in the master bathroom, and I'm sitting nude on the side of the jacuzzi tub as it fills with water and bubbles, sipping champagne that had been chilling in a bucket on the bathroom counter. How convenient.

"You had this planned all along," I tease, remembering our first date hiking up to that beautiful view. "You are so full of surprises, Porter Brooks."

"Only the best for my girl," Porter answers, stripping down and climbing into the tub with me. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into the warm, sudsy water, my back pressing against his chest. My body relaxes and melts into him, the aches of being thoroughly fucked fading away into nothing.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he whispers in my ear.

"Of course." My heart swells with affection, and the words are right on the tip of my tongue again. I bite them back. "Why would you ask?"

Porter kisses behind my ear. "It's just...I know you've been wanting to talk to me about something, and you keep holding yourself back. If you don't want to, Bailey, you don't have to, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. Whatever you need."

His hands massage my shoulders and back, and I sigh in utter bliss. There’s nothing else I want in the world because Porter provides it all and then some. I've never been happier. Never felt more adored.

I'm going to say it. To hell with my nerves. I'm going to tell him!

I turn in Porter's arms and take his handsome, angular face in my hands. He's staring at me intently, and I swallow, steeling myself for his response.

"Porter, I lo⁠—"

Bang bang bang!

There's a loud pounding at the front door of the house, and we both jump. Porter swears and gets to his feet, quickly pulling his clothes on before he heads out of the bathroom. "Stay here."

I sink back into the hot water, listening to the sound of his footsteps crossing the living room and the muffled voices as the door opens and whoever is there comes inside. Whoever he has let in is a man, and Porter's tone goes from annoyed to surprised. Then, I hear something I've never heard from him. He sounds confused. Maybe uncertain?

There's something about the other masculine tone that pokes at something deep in my gray matter, a memory that I've tried to forget, but I brush it off. It's probably just someone from the gym. But Porter is confused, and that's setting off all kinds of red flags. I need to see what's going on.

I wrap the fluffy pink robe Porter bought me around my body, brushing my wet hair away from my face and making sure I'm totally covered. The last thing I want is Porter wringing some guy’s neck because I come out looking scandalous.



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