But the bulk of our time together was spent in bed, always naked, always ravenous.
“Fuck, I’ll never get tired of watching you grind on my cock,” he growled, his fingernails digging furrows into the flesh of my hips. “You’re gonna make me come, baby girl.”
“No, don’t,” I said. “I want to suck you off so I can taste both of us in my mouth at the same time.” Hands braced against Mason’s chest, I glided my pussy along his erection. I was so fucking wet—I was always so fucking wet when he was around. There was no help for it. Only surrender.
“Sweetheart,” he said through gritted teeth, “you can’t tell me not to come and then say stuff like that.”
I laughed and then yelped as he reached around to slap my backside.
“Sorry, Daddy.”
“Yeah right,” he rasped. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
He raised his head to catch my nipple in his mouth. The wet warmth of his tongue sent currents of need zipping through my bloodstream. His back arched as I ground my clit against his sensitive cockhead. I was used to masturbating on my back. Riding Mason like this took a lot more effort, but the view was definitely worth it. It reminded me of humping a stuffed animal, only hotter and slipperier, with way more direct pressure on my clit.
“I’m close.” I rocked my hips, letting the tension build. “Just one more minute.”
“Whatever you need, baby girl.” He teased my nipple with his tongue. The coalescing of pleasure from above and below made my stomach flutter.
“Oh, that. Keep doing that.”
I closed my eyes. He sucked on my nipple until I was almost crying, then trailed a line of kisses across to my other breast. His cock throbbed beneath me. It must’ve been torture, holding back his own release while I used him to get myself off.
Clit pulsing and pussy dripping, I held his face in my hands and kissed him, recalling that first kiss and how it had changed everything. I rubbed my clit against him and thought about his cock, how close it was to my opening—
How all it would take was one miscalculated thrust to force it inside me...
My orgasm zapped through me like lightning. I whimpered into Mason’s mouth. He slipped his tongue between my lips and tasted me, his hands clasping both sides of my ass, holding me even tighter to his hard body. He trembled with the effort it took to hold off on coming. I swallowed hard and took a moment to catch my breath.
“Okay,” I said. “Your turn.”
I slid down his body and grasped his cock, slick from my efforts and impossibly hard in my palm. I painted my lips with the drop of precum at the tip, then took the head into my mouth. He tasted salty and a little tangy, a flavor I’d come to recognize as my own. I bobbed my head, taking as much of him as I could fit without gagging.
“God, I love fucking that beautiful mouth of yours,” he growled, his fingers grasping at my hair.
I responded by cupping his balls the way he liked them to be cupped. He made a sound that was like a moan and a snarl combined. I tongued his urethra, and his whole body trembled.
I was getting good at this.
“Careful,” he said, “or you’ll get a facial instead of a mouthful.”
I flashed him a wicked smile. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d lost control all over me.
Gripping his shaft, I wrapped my lips around him and resumed sucking him off, relishing the salt of his precum mixed with my own essence. I loved the sounds he made and the musky scent of his body. I knew exactly where he liked to be licked and how hard to suck.
As with everything else involving my daddy, I couldn’t get enough. It was like I’d been born to do this. And I supposed, in a way, I had.
Mason’s cock was thick. I had to be thoughtful about my positioning so I didn’t end up with a sore jaw. His eyes never left my face. Sometimes he admitted to wishing he were a photographer, so he could instantly capture these moments without having to pause. More than once, I thought about suggesting we take pictures, but I was afraid mentioning photography would remind him of my mother. It would be like summoning her presence into the room, and I didn’t want her here any more than I wanted to move back home.
His hand tightened in my hair. He was close. I could tell by his shallow breathing and the way his hips bucked with each swipe of my tongue. This was my favorite part, watching and hearing and feeling him lose his composure in the seconds before he was about to blow.
I sucked harder and faster, using my hand as an extension of my mouth. I listened for the helpless panting, felt the sudden swelling of his cock.
Hot, salty cum gushed over my tongue and splattered my throat. I swallowed. He loved it when I swallowed, and I loved anything that allowed me to take pieces of him inside me.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “That was fucking intense.”
I held him in my mouth as he softened, then let him slip out. Quiet as a cat, I crawled up the bed and settled into t