Page 8 of Power Play Daddies

I shrug it off, then my shirt, and her eyes go dark as they rake over me. “You’re so fucking handsome,” she whispers.

Her bra, lacy and lavender, makes my breath hitch. “Jesus fuck,” I groan, leaning in to suck her nipple through the fabric.

She gasps, her head falling back, and I move to the other side, my tongue circling over the lace.

“Take it off,” she whimpers, her hips grinding harder against me.

I push the cups down, taking her nipple into my mouth, sucking until the peak is wet and glistening. She’s all soft gasps and frantic hands, working on the button of my jeans. Her hand slides inside my boxers, wrapping around me, and I grunt, my teeth grazing her skin.

“Fuck, Trouble,” I mutter, standing and spinning us around.

She laughs, breathless, as I lay her down on the poolside lounger. Her heels hit the ground with a soft thud as I yank them off.

She helps me with her slacks, and I realize that she’s wearing these tall, sheer stockings. They’re too much for me to handle. Something about them is beyond sexy. I hook my fingers under the band, ready to pull, but I’m too impatient.

They rip under my hands, and she gasps, her hazel eyes wide and dark as she watches me.

“You’re eager,” she says, her voice trembling.

“You’ve got no idea.”

Her panties match the bra—lavender lace. My mouth goes dry.

“Fucking hell, Daisy,” I growl. Her lips part, her breath coming quick as I mutter, “Trouble.”

My hands slide up her thighs, her skin smooth beneath my palms.

She’s already pulling me down, her mouth crushed against mine. The kiss isn’t soft or shy. She kisses me like she’s starving, her nails digging into my shoulders as I tug at her bottom lip. A soft moan escapes her, and it’s like a fucking symphony.

“Beau,” she breathes, her fingers fumbling with the button on my jeans. Her voice is low, desperate. I’m already hard, straining against the fabric.

“You in a hurry, Daisy?” My lips trail down her neck, teasing.

“Shut up,” she shoots back, laughing breathlessly as she shoves my jeans down, leaving me in my boxers.

I straighten up, staring at her flushed cheeks and that little bite mark on her lip where I tugged on it. Her hazel eyes are hooded, and damn, if she’s not the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

“I’ve gotta taste you,” I say, my voice rough.

Her breath hitches, and she nods. “Yes. Please.”

I drop to my knees, kissing my way down her stomach, over the curve of her hips. The scent of her hits me—sweet, like vanilla and something heady. My mouth waters.

“You smell like dessert,” I say, grinning as I glance up.

“Beau,” she whispers, her hands sinking into my hair, tugging me closer.

I hook my fingers under her panties and pull them to the side. She’s glistening, and I groan at the sight. “So wet for me already,” I murmur.

Her hips shift forward, a silent plea. I lean in, dragging my tongue slowly through her folds. Her thighs tremble against my shoulders, and she cries out, her head falling back.

“Fuck,” I mutter, my hands gripping her hips to hold her steady. She’s soft, warm, addictive. I circle her clit with my tongue, sucking lightly, and she gasps, her nails scraping my scalp.

Her voice shakes. “Don’t stop.”

“Hold these.” I glance up, tapping her wrist. “Keep your panties outta my way like a good girl.”

Her cheeks flush deeper, but she obeys, her fingers trembling as she hooks them around the fabric.