Page 19 of Filthy Mouth (Obsessive Age Gap #2)

Poppy

All my belongings arrived tomorrow, and his house had plenty of space. I ’ d decided to rent out my apartment on a short-term lease. Fed with proper food and not just Daddy ’ s come, we ’ d made our way into the shower. It was long and leisurely, but apparently, I was a sucker for more filth.

I pumped some body-wash into the palm of my hand and dropped to my knees, facing the beast of my dreams. I glanced up at Daddy, but he only looked amused.

“ You ’ re welcome to try,” he chuckled.

“ Challenge accepted,” I said, determined, as I started to lather his cock with one hand while cupping his balls with the other.

When my slippery fingers traced towards his asshole, he hissed, but didn ’ t stop me.

I let the water rinse off his cock before sucking him into my mouth.

I massaged his hole while running my tongue along his length, the palm of my hand rubbing his balls.

A deep, filthy satisfaction bloomed when his cock began to harden.

“ Fucking hell. I thought that was impossible,” he muttered.

I pulled off with a wet pop. “ I want everything your cock can give me,” I whispered, licking the tip, swirling my tongue around the thick head. “ Everything.”

“ Poppy…are you sure?” he asked, almost wary.

I wasn ’ t stupid. When he insisted his red room needed to be waterproofed, I knew. Researching the furniture only confirmed it. Given his obsession with me swallowing his come and squirting for him, it was a reasonable assumption.

“ I dare you,” I said, sliding back on my knees and opening my mouth wide for him.

“ Is that right?”

His cock dragged across my lips, hot and heavy, smearing precum and water over my skin. My whole body shook at the shift in his voice—low, commanding, dangerous. That was the sound of him taking control.

“ Open wider,” he said, and I obeyed instantly, tongue out, mouth aching. I felt like a slut kneeling in church, praying for his filth.

He tapped the thick head against my cheek, then my chin, and I whimpered. The weight of him, the taste of him, the promise of what he was about to do made my pussy clench so hard I nearly cried.

“ Good girl,” he murmured, and my stomach swooped. “ You ’ ll take it all. My cock. My come. My piss. Every filthy drop. And you ’ ll be grateful for it.”

I nodded, eyes wide, unable to look anywhere but up at him. My heart was racing, and yet the thought of him using me like that made my thighs press tight together. I wanted it. I wanted everything.

“ Keep those eyes on me, Princess,” he warned, one big hand stroking his cock, the other cupping the back of my head. “ Don ’ t you dare look away. You asked for this.”

My mouth watered, my tongue trembling as I held myself open for him. My chest rose and fell with sharp breaths, nipples tight from the heat of the shower and his filthy words.

Fuck, I could already feel it—the humiliation, the devotion, the nasty thrill curling between my legs. I wanted to choke on every drop of him.

He pressed the swollen tip against my bottom lip, and I opened wide. The first hot stream rushed over my tongue, scalding, salty, his. My throat worked frantically, gulping it down before it spilled too much.

But it still overflowed. Heat streaked down my chin, splashing my breasts before dripping to the shower floor. The spray of water couldn ’ t disguise it—the humiliation, the filth, the fact that I was drinking him.

My eyes watered as I swallowed more, my tongue thick with the taste, my belly warming with every gulp. I clung to his thighs, whimpering low in my throat as the endless stream kept coming, pouring straight from his cock into me.

He groaned above me, fingers tight in my hair. “ That ’ s it, Princess. My hot little whore. Drink my piss. Don ’ t waste a drop.”

Tears blurred my vision. My pussy gushed as he fed me, as if my body craved being reduced to this—his filthy little drinking cup. The heat kept flooding my mouth, burning, humiliating, but intoxicating.

When I couldn ’ t take another swallow, I let it spill freely, dripping from my lips, running in hot rivulets down my chest. My breasts glistened, smeared with spit, water, and the mess he poured into me. I arched my back and let him shower me with his cock.

And heaven help me—I ’ d never wanted him more.

Hot water streamed down my back as he hauled me up, his hands firm and commanding.

My lips were raw, messy, and he didn ’ t hesitate—his mouth crashed against mine, tongue forcing its way past my teeth.

I could still taste him, still taste the filth he ’ d given me, and he kissed me like it was the sweetest thing in the world.

“ Good girl,” he growled against my lips, nipping them before kissing me again, slower, filthier, like he wanted every trace of himself back on his tongue. My body melted into his, the steam, the spray, the heat all blurring until the only thing I felt was him.

His cock was pressed hard against my belly, thick and hot, nudging as if demanding more. My fingers curled into his wet hair, pulling him deeper into me as his praise rolled through me, raw and possessive.

“ Mine,” he rasped, his lips slick and unforgiving against mine. “ My filthy, perfect Princess.”

He crowded me back against the slick tiles, water pounding over us, his kiss turning hungrier, wetter, filthier.

His tongue pushed deep, tangling with mine, stealing every breath I had.

My hands slid over his shoulders, nails raking down his back before I grabbed fistfuls of his wet hair, tugging him closer, begging for more without a word.

His cock ground against my belly with every shift of his hips, thick and heavy, leaving trails of slick heat against my skin.

I whimpered into his mouth when his hands moved lower, one gripping my ass, kneading me possessively, the other sliding up to palm my bare breast, teasing my nipple until it stood hard beneath his touch.

“ Can ’ t keep my hands off you,” he muttered between kisses, biting my lip before sucking it hard. My hips bucked against him, desperate, matching the needy press of his cock.

“ Touch me,” I begged, the plea breaking against his tongue as he swallowed it whole.

“ Oh, I ’ ll touch you everywhere,” he promised, his hand slipping down between us, pressing into the heat between my thighs, fingers finding me soaked in more than just water.

His fingers slid lower, parting me with sinful skill, stroking through slick folds until I was trembling against the tiles.

Every twist, every curl inside me was deliberate—he knew exactly where to press, exactly how to make my knees weak beneath me.

I clutched his shoulders for balance, whimpering as the water cascaded over us, masking the filthy sounds of my arousal.

“ Look at you,” he murmured against my mouth, thumb circling my clit with ruthless precision. “ Soaked for me, begging in my shower.”

My head fell back against the wall as his fingers pumped deeper, curling into that wicked spot that made my vision go white. I cried out, but he swallowed the sound with a hard kiss, tongue pushing in as though he wanted to taste the exact moment I shattered.

The orgasm ripped through me, hot and fast, my thighs trembling around his hand. He held me through it, groaning as I clenched down on his fingers, as if even my cunt was desperate to keep him buried.

By the time I blinked back into focus, I was half-limp in his arms, panting, water and sweat mingling on my skin. He pressed his forehead to mine, smiling dark and hungry. The water stopped abruptly.

“ Bed. Now,” he rasped, hooking his arm under my thighs. He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me from the steam and water with his cock still hard against my belly. “ I want you screaming into my sheets this time.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, playing with the wet ends of his hair as he lay me on the bed. He stood back for a moment, stroking his cock, thick and gleaming, his eyes locked on me.

“ I love you like this—wet, spread, and ready. And that filthy mouth, Princess… it was made to take everything my cock has to offer.” His hand slowed as he reached for the drawer beside the bed. “ But Daddy still has one hole left to feed, doesn ’ t he?”

My throat went dry. I nodded, trembling at the thought of his cock breaching my ass. He ’ d teased me before with his fingers, but I ’ d never taken anything close to his size back there.

“ Don ’ t worry,” he murmured, holding up a bottle of lube that looked comically large. “ You ’ ll be begging for me to ream you before I ’ m finished with that tight little arsehole.”

“ Use that a lot?” I asked wryly, eyeing the bottle.

“ More than you ’ d imagine,” he chuckled.

The words hit like a bucket of cold water. After all, he had picked me up thinking I was a prostitute. My chest tightened. “ How many women do you have hookups with?” I asked, cautiously.

He tossed the bottle on the bed and lifted his hands in surrender. “ I ’ ve not been in a relationship since my last ex. Yes, I ’ ve had hookups with women I knew, but they knew the score. It was casual, clean and mutual, but all temporary. And one thing I ’ ll never do, Princess—never—is cheat.”

His ex-wives were a subject for another day. But this? This felt important. The way he highlighted his views on fidelity made me wonder about his past.

“ Are you jealous?” he asked, crawling back over me, his shadow falling across my body.

I met his gaze. “ Would you be jealous of my previous hookups? I went through a rebellious period.”

His lips flattened, jaw ticking. His whole face went darker, and I melted back into the damp sheets under the weight of it.

“ Yes. I damn well would,” he snapped. “ I ’ d ruin them.”

My eyes widened as he leaned down, slow and deliberate, his tongue tracing across my lips before he crashed his mouth against mine in a brutal kiss. I rubbed my thighs together, arching my back to press my breasts against his wet chest.

A moan escaped when his tongue plunged deeper—hot, wet, tasting faintly of coffee and sin. He hooked a hand under my thigh and dragged it up, forcing me open, his cock sliding along my slick folds.

I spread my other leg wide, gasping when he brushed across my clit, sparks shooting through me.

“ Fuck, Poppy,” he growled against my lips, breath ragged, eyes blazing. “ I can ’ t get enough of you. I ’ ll never get enough.”

This man could ruin me in ways my family never could.

Fuck. This was not in my carefully laid out plans.

“ I ’ m placing a great deal of trust in you, Daddy,” I whispered, swallowing the thick lump in my throat.

His eyes softened, and he brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers, touch achingly gentle for a man so brutal in bed.

“ I ’ ve been cheated on. Used for my money.” His voice was low, steady, but edged with bitterness. “ That ’ s why I never got into another relationship after my last divorce. I ’ m too old for games, Princess—and I ’ d never intentionally hurt you.”

I guess we were both battered by untrustworthy people.

“ I ’ d never take you for granted. Not when your filthy mouth is always so ravenous,” he murmured with a low chuckle, his thumb grazing my lower lip.

I grinned, heat curling in my belly despite the weight of his words. Good thing I ’ d saved him in my phone as Baddy. It suited him perfectly. He was a very bad, nasty Daddy—dangerous in all the ways I craved, but I wouldn ’ t have it any other way.