Page 2 of Shifted Desire

It helps that I’ve learned to sense when someone has darker urges lurking behind their desires. Whoever Daddy is, he holds no dark secrets, just a fondness for this flavor of consensual kink.

If we had time to develop our relationship, I bet I’d end up with Daddy begging me for forgiveness while I chastised him for how much of a pervert he is.

That could be fun.

Except this is a one-night thing and there’s no relationship to deepen, and those kinds of wandering thoughts only invite trouble.

Daddy’s gaze softens behind his mask, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Mmm, I know, sweetheart. But that doesn’t change the fact that Daddy’s been aching for you all day. I couldn’t get any work done because all I could think about was you.”

“Oh no, Daddy, that sounds painful,” I coo.

His dick twitches, pressing against the confines of his pants. “It is, Princess. So be a good girl for me and open your mouth.”

I part my lips, my clit sparking with arousal as his hand goes to his fly. If I didn’t think it’d ruin the scene, I’d have my fingers between my thighs already.

“Stick your tongue out.”

I extend my tongue eagerly. All the talk is fun, but I’m ready to get this show on the road.

Daddy pulls his cock out with a rough grunt, and it’s as nice as I thought it’d be. Not too long, but thick and ruddy. There’s a prominent vein I’d like to trace with my tongue, and he’s already leaking precum.

He palms the back of my head and uses his other hand to guide the tip of his cock to my waiting tongue. I close my lips so I can suck him, but he shakes his head.

“Keep it open,” he rasps, and when I stick my tongue back out, he taps the head of his dick against it with a satisfied smile. “That’s it.”

He strokes his cock in leisurely motions, despite his earlier mention of aching, teasing us both as he leaves the head of his dick on my tongue to collect the precum dripping from the slit.

Saliva pools in my mouth, and a familiar, delightfully debauched pleasure rises in me as it spills down my chin.

“Such a messy girl,” Daddy murmurs, heat flaring in his eyes as he no doubt feels the arousal pouring off of me in waves.

“Ssorree.” The apology is barely comprehensible with my tongue out, but gods, he loves it. I bet if I wrapped my lips around him, it’d take Daddy less than a second before he makes even more of a mess of me.

As if he senses my thoughts, he pulls back, his dick bobbing in the air between us. I chase it with my mouth with a frustrated huff, and there’s that sexy as hell laugh again.

“Patience. You made me wait all day for this, so it’s only fair I get to tease you.”

I pout, the expression genuine. After the week I’ve had, I was hoping for less teasing and more nonstop, hardcore fucking that makes me forget my name and all the bullshit rattling around in my head.

He reaches down, his hand ghosting across my breast. Unbidden, the memory of my asshole ex-boss flashes in my head, him leaning over my chair, breath hot and unpleasant as he reaches for the stack of papers on the desk and “accidentally” gropes the side of my tit.

I stiffen, and Daddy stills his wandering hand. “What’s your color, Princess?” he murmurs.

It should make me relieved to know he’s paying attention to my reactions, and that he’s being a responsible scene partner, but something sour churns in my gut, pulling me further out of the moment.

I don’t want him to check in on me.

I can handle my shit on my own.

“Green.” My reply is missing the sweet affect I’ve been putting on, further harshing the vibe of what we were building.

He pinches my nipple with a roughness that shocks me back into the scene.

“Don’t be a brat.”

I blink up at him, a little impressed by the command in his voice. “O-okay.”

He frowns. “You don’t want to make Daddy look bad in front of his boss, do you?” he hisses, gripping my chin. “He’s here because he wanted to see what had me so distracted. Take your dress off and show him.”