Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 146666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 587(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 587(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
“He didn’t take care of you first?”
“Um, no. Do men really do that?”
“Baby girl, I would be happy to make you come as many times as I could, and I wouldn’t give a shit about my own pleasure.”
Holy. Crap.
“You said you still feel desire . . . that you make yourself come. How do you do that?”
“How . . . you don’t know how?”
“What? No! I know how . . . I mean I . . .”
She burst into giggles, unable to help herself. Hack looked flustered that she’d implied he didn’t know how to make a woman come.
“You are such a brat. I think it’s time for a punishment.”
“What? Nooo! It can’t be.”
“Yep, and since you can’t do lines, I am going to swat your ass for your sassy brat mouth.”
“Daddy, no!”
He froze for a moment as he reached for her. Satisfaction and desire filled his face.
Because she’d called him Daddy?
“Yeah . . . nice try, brat.”
“What? What was?” she cried as he lifted her over his lap.
“Trying to distract me by calling me Daddy. It’s not going to work. Two swats for teasing your Daddy.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.” She thought he was joking. Maybe.
Then the first swat landed. Okay, not joking. It didn’t exactly hurt. It was just a light sting. However, it was still a solid smack and her entire body lit up.
Desire flooded her.
Yikes. She really liked this, huh?
Another swat. Then he lifted her so she sat on his lap, facing him. “Now, I hope you learned your lesson about teasing your Daddy.”
“That Daddy doesn’t have a sense of humor?”
“I do have a sense of humor. And for that, we’re going to also buy two things off the wishlist at LittleLand.”
“I don’t have a wishlist.”
“That’s okay, I made one for you.”
“Hack!”
“Uh-uh. Daddy.”
“Daddy!” Damn, Greer really liked saying that. “You can’t keep buying me things.”
“Sure, I can. Your Little doesn’t have anything. We need to get her some things to make her feel more comfortable.”
“She really doesn’t need anything but you.”
He froze. “Damn, baby. That might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Really? So you won’t buy me anything else?”
“Oh, hell no. I like buying you things. That won’t stop.”
She groaned. He was terrible.
“We need to talk about your Little and what she needs. But first, your limits . . .”
She tried to climb off his lap, but he gave her a stern look and placed his hand on her leg. “Where are you going?”
“Uh, to sit next to you.”
“Nope. You stay where you are so I can watch over you. Back to sex. No penetration. But is other play okay?”
“Maybe,” she whispered. “I don’t like the idea of being held down. No pinning my limbs or cutting off my air.”
His face grew darker. “He did that?”
“Yeah . . . several times. I think he got off on me trying to fight him so I could breathe.” Panic started to fill her.
“Hey . . . hey, baby girl. I will never do that. I promise. Some people like having their air cut off . . . but that’s not something I will do with you.”
She nodded, trying to take deep breaths to calm herself.
“That’s it. Good girl. This is why we talk about these things. We can go as slowly as you need, I just want to be clear on what scares you.”
“Okay.”
“So orgasms are still on the table as long as I’m not holding you down or cutting off your air. If you sit on my face while I eat you out, would that would be okay?”
Holy heck. He did not just say that.
And now her body felt like it was on fire. Was she expected to just sit here? Still?
Seriously?
“I don’t know. Maybe eventually.”
“How did you get yourself off, baby? Toys? Your fingers?”
“I can’t talk about this.” She put her hands over her face.
“Sure you can.”
“How do you get yourself off?” she demanded. “Your hand? Toys?”
This went both ways.
“My hand. And I can tell you that I’ve been jacking off far more in the last week than I have in the last two months.”
“You . . . you . . . Really? Holy. Heck.” She felt kind of smug about that. She’d turned him on.
“Oh yes. What do you use?”
“A clit tickler. Or my fingers.”
“Not a vibrator?”
“No . . . nothing that penetrates . . .” Christ.
“I understand,” he told her. “What do you say we take things in stages?”
“What does that mean?”
“Like the first date is kissing . . . the next is touching your breasts. The third is me kissing your breasts. The fourth is me fingering you to a release. The fifth is you sitting on my face.”
“And the sixth?” she asked, her voice strangled with desire.
“I’ll leave that up to you. What do you think the sixth should be?”