Chapter 38 Do it Daddy II
Melissa's Pov
“Do It, Daddy”
His mouth was still on mine when the word slipped out again, softer this time. I didn’t know why but I felt more raw and vulnerable. Something about Gavin did that to me.
“Daddy…”
I moaned against his mouth. I expected him to be rough; instead he went perfectly, terrifyingly still.
Then his eyes opened, the ice-blue turning almost black, and I felt the shift like a storm rolling in.
His hand slid from my hair to my throat. He wasn’t squeezing it, although I wished he would, but it was just resting there, like a collar.
“Say it again,” he whispered against my lips.
My voice shook. “Daddy.” His groan was low, and reverent.
He kissed me again, slower now, deeper, like he was tasting the word on my tongue.
His free hand moved to my waist, fingers digging in, and he walked me backward until my spine met the glass wall.
We were forty floors up. The entire city was glittering below us like spilled diamonds.
He broke the kiss only to speak, his voice like rough velvet.
“Put your hands on the glass. Above your head. Keep your palm flat.”
I obeyed instantly, desperate to have his hands on me. He stepped back just enough to look at me.
My skirt was twisted high on my thighs. The black lace of my bra barely contained my breast. My chest was heavy and my eyes glassy with need, but he loved making me wait.
He exhaled, slow and shaky, like he was praying.
“Sei la cosa più bella che abbia mai visto.” (You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.)
Then he dropped to his knees. Right there on the office floor.
His hands slid up my calves, behind my knees, pushing my skirt higher and higher until it was bunched at my waist.
He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of my thigh, his teeth grazing me slightly.
I whimpered. He placed another kiss, higher. Then another small bite.
Until his mouth was hovering over the soaked panty lace between my legs.
He looked up at me, eyes locked on mine, and dragged his tongue over the fabric in one slow, filthy lick.
I cried out, my knees buckling.
He caught me, hands gripping my hips, holding me to the glass.
“Stay still,” he murmured against me. “Let me worship you.”
Then he hooked his fingers in my panties and tore them down my legs.
My gasping soaked pussy was bare to him now. He spread me with his thumbs, studying me like I was art, and groaned.
“Perfetta.”
His tongue found my clit in one slow, perfect circle.
My head thumped back against the glass.
He licked again, deeper, flattening his tongue, dragging it up my center like he was starving.
I was already shaking. But he still didn’t rush.
He took his time, long, slow licks, and flicks that made my thighs tremble.
Every time I tried to move, he pinned me harder, growling softly against my skin.
When he finally slid two fingers inside me, curling them slow and deep, I sobbed his name. But he didn’t speed up.
He kept that torturous rhythm, tongue and fingers in perfect sync. “Gavin please…” I gasped, hips grinding desperately against his face.
Only then did he stand.
He spun me, pressed my front to the glass, gathered both my wrists in one hand and pinned them high between my shoulder blades.
I heard his belt clink as he unhooked his zipper with his free hand.
I felt him behind me. He leaned in, with his lips at my ear.
“Tell me you want this.”
“I want it,” I gasped. “Please, Daddy, I need you inside me.”
He lined his dick with my pussy and sank in, slow, relentless, inch by thick inch.
The stretch was exquisite agony. I hadn’t had anyone stretch me this way before.
“Ahhh… fuck Gavin,” I cried out, with my forehead pressed to the glass, my breath fogging it with frantic puffs.
He didn’t move when he was fully buried inside me. I was already dripping wet so there was no need for a lube.
He just held there, letting me feel every throbbing inch.
His free hand slid around to my front, cupping my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers.
“You feel that?” he whispered. “That’s me owning you. Every breath you take from now on is because I allow it.”
Then he started to move.
Slow, deep strokes that dragged over every sensitive spot inside me.
Each thrust pressed my nipples to the cold glass, sending sparks shooting through my body.
He kept my wrists pinned, kept me stretched and open and helpless.
“Gavin please go faster… ahh please I need it harder.”
He kicked my leg apart, spreading me more as he leaned in, then bit my shoulder, before licking the sting away.
“Come for me, piccola. Let me feel you milk my cock.”
One more deep thrust and I shattered.
The orgasm ripped through me, violent and endless.
Clenching around him, tears streaming down my face.
He groaned, low and wrecked, but he didn't cum.
Instead he pulled out, and lifted me into his arms like I weighed nothing.
He carried me through the office to the small, private lounge attached to the office, a very exotic mini room with a deep gray couch and soft lighting for resting..
He laid me down, followed me, covering me with his body.
He took off his shirt. I saw a beautiful tattoo covering his chest, it was a tattoo of a crowned lion over his heart, it looked fierce and powerful and beautiful.
Then he stood, walked to the mini fridge, pulled out ice.
My breath caught.
He climbed back over me, held a cube and dragged the fresh cube across my left nipple, slow, deliberate, letting the ice do its things.
“Ahhh—fuck!”
The sound tore out of me as my back snapped off the bed.
He didn’t pause. He pressed harder, circling, freezing the peak until it throbbed like a second heartbeat.
“Gavin—nngh—Gavin, it’s too much, it’s—ahh!”
My voice broke into a high, desperate whine as he switched to the right, ice searing cold fire straight through me.
His mouth dropped to the one he’d just tortured, tongue blazing hot, sucking hard.
“oh God, oh fuck!” I couldn’t stop the words.
He pulled off with a wet pop and blew a cool stream of air across the aching tip.
“Mmm—Gavin, please—!”
A broken sob hitched out of me, hips jerking helplessly.
He took the half-melted cube and pinned it directly against the swollen nipple, grinding it in tiny circles.
He tossed the ice aside and latched onto the other nipple, using his teeth to tug on it.
“Fuck—yes—bite me, bite me—nnghaa—Gavin!”
My hands flew to his hair, yanking, holding him there while I thrashed around him. I was fast becoming a boob slut.
He growled against my skin and did it again—harder—then soothed the sting with slow, wet licks.
He pulled back, both nipples were dark and ruined and blew across them both.
The sound that ripped out of me wasn’t even human—just a long, filthy wail of his name.
“Gavin—Gavin—Gavin—please—”
He slid his impossibly huge dick back inside me in one slow, punishing thrust, his chest hair scraping my tortured nipples with every inch.
“FUCK—yes—Gavin—harder—rip me apart—!”
I screamed it into his mouth as he kissed me, screamed it into the pillow when he turned my head, screamed it against his shoulder when he finally let go and fucked me like the world was ending.
Every thrust dragged those swollen, frozen-burned peaks across his skin and another broken shout tore loose:
“Ahh—Gavin—don’t stop—never stop—fuck—I’m yours—yours—Gavin!”