Page 147 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection

“Oppa!” She turns and throws her arms around me. When she jumps up, I get my arm under that wonderful, round ass and haul her up onto my hips. She wraps her legs around me.

She buries her face in my neck, hiccupping on her tears.

“Baby, do you not like it?”

“I love it,” she sobs.

I smile into the soft cloud of her hair. “My Fairy Queen Bee needs her hive. Crawl in and see what you think, huh?”

She nods but clings to me. I carry her over and sit on the edge of the bed, which takes a bit of maneuvering, given how high the bed is now and with an adorably emotional little wrapped around me.

I stroke her and when she finally lifts her wet, red face from my neck, I kiss her. When the kisses get heated and she tugs on the button-down I’ve worn to dinner, I strip off for her, but don’t undress her.

“Would my Fairy Queen Bee like to christen her hive with some worship from her drone?”

Her eyes swim as she looks up at me. “You’z do that, Oppa?”

“Baby, just because I love chasing you and catching you and fucking you silly doesn’t mean I won’t go down on you. I love tasting my bumble.Muchsweeter than honey.”

She blushes. “Iz not.”

“Is, too.” I lift her off my lap and squat down at the entrance to the underbed cage. “Come see your hive, Queenie, and let your drone eat up all your royal jelly.”

“Oppa!” She scrubs her palms over her flaming cheeks, but scrambles into the cage. She spreads out one of the fleeces under her as she scoots in and lies down on her back, rocking from side to side and hugging stuffed bee after stuffed bee. “Oppa, iz so good in here. My own hive!”

“It is. Can your drone come in?”

“Yes! Yes! Come in!” She reaches out of the cage, grabs my hand, and pulls me in. I crawl in on my knees and elbows and even then, I bump into the thick wooden slats overhead. I sprawl next to my Queen Bee, leaving my calves and feet jutting out through the cage’s open entrance. I’m glad I’ve set this up as Cynnie’s special place, because there’s barely room enough for me to squeeze in, much less move around.

She cuddles up to me as I stretch out, running her palms over my chest and shoulders. “Oppa, thank you so much for this. I loves it. My special place.”

I tip my head to bring our mouths together, but let her close the last inch, only giving her what she seeks. Letting my little queen dictate to her drone for once.

She wraps her arms and legs around me as soon as I our lips meet. My enthusiastic bee.

I kiss her for a long, lazy time, exploring every angle, every little spot on her lips and tongue, teeth and palate that makes her wriggle and hum happily. She gets increasingly restless under me, wriggling, arching herself against me, rubbing.

She finally breaks our kiss, tugging on my hair. “Oppa.”

“Yes, my queen?”

“Don’t like being in charge.”

“You don’t?”

She shakes her head.

“Would you like me to be in charge?”

Her face lights up and she nods. “Always.”

“Then turn over, my little queen.”

She rolls onto her elbows and knees as soon as I lift off her. I slide her dress up over her round ass and slowly peel her lace leggings down to her knees. Grasping her hips, rubbing my thumbs up and down her sweet cheeks, I spread her.

“What do you have here for your drone, little queen?”

“Nuffin’,” she mutters into the mattress.