Page 25 of Filthy Business (Obsessive Age Gap #1)

Iris

I waved at Marcie as I walked toward the glass door, pausing when I saw Daddy standing there waiting for me. He usually stayed in the car. I smiled as he began walking toward me. The man did not give a single fuck when he grabbed me and slapped his lips over mine. He must’ve missed our lunchtime delight as much as I had.

When he let me breathe again, I held onto his arm until I regained my composure.

“Okay then. So we’re doing this at work now,”

I said lightly, my eyes darting around to see if anyone had seen us.

Marcie’s smug smile said I was fucked.

“Of course we are. People should know what a lucky bastard I am. Plus, I get to rub you in people’s faces. The old man and his sexy young fiancée,”

he said, taking my hand and rubbing his thumb over my ring.

“You’re not an old man,”

I snorted, laughing.

“I can barely keep up with you.”

“I have fucked you into a coma a few times,”

he agreed as he guided me outside.

Nick was standing beside the car—tall, smiling, and opening the door for us. There was something weird about both of them today. Nick wasn’t usually smiley, and Daddy didn’t kiss me at work or in public.

I didn’t think about it for long. Daddy had me on his lap with my feet on the leather seats.

He said nothing at the start of our journey, just holding me, my head pushed against his chest.

“Daddy’s always going to be here for you, sweetheart,”

he murmured before his hand settled on my stomach.

“Did you feel sick today?”

“No, I was fine. I bought some crackers,”

I said, placing my hand over his heart.

“And they helped?”

“Mmm. So far. Did you get Connor transferred?”

“Ah, yes. I forgot to tell you. His choices were to resign or relocate. Why? Has anybody said anything to you?”

“No, I think they’re too scared of you,”

I smiled, remembering Daddy punching Connor until his face was a bloody pulp.

“I’m glad you didn't get into trouble.”

“He should never have put his fucking hands on you,”

he said vehemently.

I hooked my arm around his neck.

Saying no all the time wasn’t easy for women, especially when men’s egos were so fragile. The nervous laugh or okay, just one drink to pacify them—I’d seen it all. It was why I never went out at Uni. It caught me by surprise in a work environment.

If Daddy hadn’t punched him, I would've.

***

“Can I take the blindfold off?”

“No,” he said.

“Why do I feel like I’m being kidnapped?”

“Because you are.”

“That makes sense. It would be more authentic if you tied my hands and feet up,”

I suggested helpfully as he placed me on a padded seat.

Mmm. This was comfy.

“I’ll take note for your next kidnapping.”

I lifted my head, but he’d tied the blindfold too tightly. I couldn’t see a thing. There was some shuffling before I felt a cold glass pressed against my lips.

“I’m not sure I should accept a beverage from my kidnapper,”

I said, trying not to smile.

“It’s only cranberry juice,”

he whispered in my ear.

“I want you fully hydrated before I fuck you so hard you scream my name while coming on my dick.”

“Oh,”

I said, squirming on the chair—but I opened my mouth.

The cold, sweet liquid was refreshing. The glass was placed on a table, and Daddy put my seatbelt on.

“Actually, you don't need this,”

he murmured and the belt opened again. L

I wasn’t in a car. When the engine fired up, I gasped. I was on an aeroplane.

“Oh my God. You really are kidnapping me. Taking me to international waters.”

Daddy snickered and untied the blindfold.

I blinked against the low lighting as the blindfold slipped away, my vision adjusting to soft leather seats and mahogany panels. Everything was sleek, intimate, expensive. And utterly empty. Just us.

A private jet.

Of course it was.

“Holy shit,”

I whispered.

“We’re actually flying somewhere?”

“I told you. You’re being kidnapped,”

he said, already unbuttoning his cuffs as he sank into the seat across from me.

“I needed you all to myself for a few days. No staff. No work. No interruptions.”

“Where are we going?”

“I’ll tell you after you’ve come at least twice.”

I opened my mouth, then promptly closed it. My thighs clenched under the soft throw draped over my lap. He’d planned this. Every detail. Right down to the throw.

“You’ve got that look,”

he murmured, watching me with dark, hungry eyes.

“That soft, flushed look you get when your cunt starts to throb.”

“Daddy,”

I warned, shifting in my seat.

“Oh no, sweetheart. That’s not how this flight’s going to go.”

He loosened his tie, sliding it off with slow precision.

“Get up and come here.”

I hesitated half a second too long.

“I said get up.”

My pussy clenched. Hard.

I stood.

He turned his seat slightly and patted his thigh.

“Climb up and straddle me. This jet has one rule. My cock is in you during take-off.”

“That’s a very specific aviation policy,”

I said, breathless as I stepped between his legs.

“Trentham Air. We like to provide premium service.”

My thighs were soaked before I even sank down into his lap, guided by those strong, greedy hands. He kissed me like he hadn’t in weeks, tongue stroking deep as his hand slid beneath the throw and found me already dripping.

“No knickers?”

“They didn’t match the dress.”

“God, I love you,”

he groaned, dragging the tip of his cock through my slick folds.

The jet engines roared to life.

So did we.

“Sit on it, sweetheart,”

he whispered darkly.

“Let Daddy keep you plugged nice and deep while we ascend.”

I was too startled by his declaration of love.

I’d thought about it, repeatedly, but he just said it. Just like that. No warning. No hesitation. My heart kicked like a startled doe in my chest, even as my pussy clenched around nothing.

“Well? What are you waiting for?”

he said with an arched eyebrow and a filthy smirk.

“I’m going to ruin your trousers,”

I murmured, voice shaking slightly as I gripped his shoulder and slowly lowered myself onto the thick, rigid length of his cock.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just held my stare while I sank down inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside me.

“You’ve already ruined me,”

he growled, hands gripping my hips like he might never let go.

“Might as well fuck the suit too.”

I gasped as he thrust up sharply, my nails digging into his shoulders. The cabin lights flickered as the jet began its ascent, but I barely noticed. I was full. Stretched. Owned.

“Fuck,”

I whimpered, clenching around him as he rolled his hips.

“You’re so deep.”

“That’s the idea,”

he grunted, one hand sliding up to wrap around my throat.

“Now ride me like a good little captive. Earn your freedom. Let me feel that tight cunt squeeze while the world disappears beneath us.”

I rocked into him, my movements clumsy at first, overwhelmed by sensation.

But his gaze didn’t leave mine—not for a second.

Not when he whispered I love you again under his breath, and not when I shattered all over him with a strangled moan and his name on my lips.

“Good girl,”

he rasped, grabbing my hips and starting to thrust up into me properly.

“But we’re just getting started.”

I didn’t move. I just sat there, flushed and full, every inch of Daddy’s cock buried so deep I could feel him in my throat.

He didn’t let me lift a finger.

His hands gripped my hips like he owned them—because he did. Like I was something to use, something to keep full and dripping.

“Look at you,”

Daddy murmured, his voice velvet-wrapped sin.

“Pregnant, stuffed, dripping around me. This is all you’re good for, Iris.”

I whimpered, clutching his shoulders. I couldn’t form words. Just tiny, breathy sounds as he rocked up into me—slow, deliberate thrusts that punched all the air from my lungs.

“You were made for this,”

he growled, fingers digging in.

“To sit there and take my cock while I fuck you like the perfect little breeding pet you are.”

“D-Daddy…”

I moaned, unable to think through the stretch, the burn, the heat pooling fast and low.

“That’s it. Let Daddy fuck you. Let me feel how tight this little cunt gets when it’s already full of my baby.”

My walls clenched hard. I gasped. He hissed.

“God, you’re greedy,”

Daddy rasped, thrusting harder now, pace brutal and controlled.

“You wanna be ruined every time, don’t you?”

“Yes,”

I sobbed.

“I want you to break me. Please—please, Daddy—”

He slapped my ass, hard.

“You don’t beg for mercy, Iris. You beg for more.”

I sobbed again.

“More—more, Daddy—use me—fuck me—fill me again—”

“You’re not getting off this cock until I’ve come so deep and you cream all over my cock.”

He didn’t stop. Not even when I came apart with a cry so loud I was sure the pilot heard. He just held me tight, fucking me until the sweat dripped. Each deep, hard thrust made me clench and quiver for more.

“Fuck, Iris. Oh fuck. Your tight little cunt—”

His fingers bit into my hips as he slammed me down. His trousers rubbed against my pussy. He growled as his hot come filled me up—again.

“Iris,”

he whispered against my neck.

I held onto him for dear life. He breathed my name like I was the only one in his world.

Fuck. I loved him.