~Lyra~noveldrama
I smiled, innocent as pie, even though I was sitting there without panties and still tasting him in the back of my throat from last night.
Then he squinted at me like something just clicked.
“Hold up. You’re going to school like this?” he asked, voice rough, a little louder now. “If any boy so much as looks at you… or breathes near you… or thinks about talking to you tell him I’m going to rip his fucking eyes out.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, grinning now because I loved it. I loved the way he said it. I loved the way he looked at me like I was his little problem and also his favorite fucking thing in the world.
“Hmmm,” he growled, dragging his eyes over me like he was trying to figure out what was real and what was just his dirty imagination. “You’re calling me Daddy. You naughty little girl. What’s going on in that filthy head of yours, huh?”
I blinked up at him with my best innocent smile, heart pounding, lips curling just enough to tease.
“Nothing, Daddy,” I said sweetly. “I just wanted to give you a little something… a thank you. For defending me. For being the only man who’s ever made me feel like I’m worth fighting for.”
And before he could say another word, I was moving.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and slid toward him, slowly, deliberately, my skirt riding up higher with every inch. His eyes dropped immediately. His fingers flexed on the steering wheel. His chest stopped moving like he forgot how to breathe.
I crawled right into his space, leaned over the console, and whispered in his ear, “Let me make it up to you.”
He turned his head to look down at me, his hand already moving to adjust the seat backward. His smirk was pure filth now, eyes narrowed, voice thick with hunger.
“What are you doing, you naughty ass little girl… fuck,” he growled, and the sound of it made my whole body clench. His voice dropped to that dangerous level again, the one that made me forget my name, my age, my responsibilities, and every rule in the universe.
He looked down at me like I had just turned into his favorite addiction. His hand moved to adjust the seat back, his legs spreading slightly, and I could tell he was already hard. Already ready for me. And we hadn’t even left the driveway.
I looked up at him with the sweetest, most innocent expression I could fake, even though my mouth was watering and my pussy was already twitching from anticipation.
My skirt had slid up just a little from how I shifted in my seat, and I knew he could see the tops of my thighs and maybe just a glimpse of how not innocent I actually was. I didn’t care. I wanted him to see. I wanted him to break.
“I told you,” I said softly, my fingers already moving toward the waistband of his pants. “I just want to thank you, Daddy.”
The second I said it again, he groaned. His jaw clenched so tight I thought it might snap. His eyes dropped to my mouth, then to my hands, and then right back to my eyes like he was trying to decide whether to pull me into his lap or rip the seat out entirely.
His voice came out low and rough. “You think you can just crawl over here and suck my cock like a thank-you and get away with it?”
I smiled up at him like the smug little whore I am. “Yes, Daddy. That’s exactly what I think.”
His hand slid into my hair. Not hard. Not rough. Just enough to let me know that the second I opened my mouth, he was going to take it from me.
“You’re out of your mind,” he said, even as he leaned his head back against the seat, eyes burning into mine. “But go ahead. Be a good girl. Thank me.”
I moved closer, my heart pounding so fast it felt like it was going to explode. My hands worked fast-unbuckling his belt, pulling down the zipper, freeing him from his pants—and when I wrapped my fingers around his cock, I felt it twitch in my hand like it had been waiting for my touch. It was so hot and thick and ready, my mouth watered all over again.
I leaned down and licked the tip, slow and soft, just to tease him. I could feel his muscles tighten. His grip on my hair twitched. His breath caught in his throat.
“Fuck, Lyra,” he hissed. “You’re going to make me crash this fucking car before we even leave.”
I looked up at him, eyes wide and glassy and needy, and whispered, “Then don’t drive. Just sit back and let me ruin you.”
He didn’t argue.
I took him into my mouth, inch by inch, letting the warmth of him fill my throat, my lips stretched wide as I sucked him deep. His groan shook through his entire chest.
His hand pressed against the back of my head. He didn’t force me-he didn’t need to. I wanted it. I wanted every inch. I wanted him to feel how much I needed to please him.
I used every inch of my tongue as I dragged it along his cock with deliberate pressure. I wanted to tease him, make him twitch, make him curse under his breath like he had no control left.
I could feel how hard he was pulsing in my mouth, thick and hot and already leaking, and that just made me hungrier. My spit started to coat him, dripping down my chin and onto my fingers as I held the base, keeping him steady while I sucked him in deeper.
I moaned around him, not just because it felt good-but because I wanted him to feel it. I wanted my mouth to vibrate around his cock, to make him groan and grip the seat and tilt his head back with his eyes shut like
I was the best fucking thing that had ever touched him. And I knew I was. I could tell by the way he cursed again, low and strained, one hand tightening in my hair as the other flexed against the leather of his seat.
“Just like that,” he growled, voice wrecked. “Fuck, you’re so good at this. You’re going to make me cum before I even get the car started.”
Total Responses: 0