He moves back just enough to let me pull off the tank top. My skin pebbles under the cool air. His eyes roam over me as if he’s seeing me for the first time. “Perfect,” he says, and relief washes through me. My Daddy wouldn’t lie to me.

He touches me again, cupping my breast as if I’m precious. It makes me push my shoulders back and thrust my breasts into his touch.

He makes a sound low in his throat. “That’s right. And I’m going to look at these while you lick my cock.”

I eye the erection jutting up from his pants. “Lick your c-c—”

“My cock,” he says patiently. “You see that drop right there on the tip? That means it’s ready for you to taste.”

“It does?”

“You’re going to drink a lot of it,” he says, a hint of wryness in his tone. “Good girls always swallow.”

“Oh.” I lean forward and breathe in the salty musk of him. Both of my hands grasp his cock, as if I’m preparing for something huge—and well, I am. He’s a lot bigger than I expected when he’s close to my face. The prospect of fitting him in my mouth is daunting. And this is a big step, maybe bigger than when he fucked me into the bed last night. Because this isn’t something he’s doing to me. It’s something we’re doing together.

The first taste is sharp and shocking, and I gasp as I swallow down the salty come. He’s doing that thing again, where he watches me fumble. I think he likes watching me be awkward and clumsy while I try to please him, fumbling around with more submission than skill.

“Is this right, Daddy?”

“You’re doing great. Lick it again.”

So I do, licking him again and again until his thighs are rock hard with tension and his cock is streaming precum. I almost can’t keep up drinking it. If this is how much he can produce before he comes, I have no idea how I’m going to swallow it all down when he finishes.

“Ahh, that’s good. Now suck me, little one. Take me in as far as you can.”

It feels natural to slide him between my lips—more natural than licking him, even. I coast along the curved edge marking the head of his cock. My tongue flicks at the slit that produces all that precum for me to drink. I can’t go very far, but he doesn’t seem to mind—for now.

I wrap my hands around his legs to support myself and give me leverage. His muscles are completely taut underneath my hands, trembling with the strain of…what? Holding back? Or giving in?

His gaze roams over me like a caress, from the crown of my head to my stretched lips to my exposed breasts. My nipples are hard under his gaze and the open air.

“I’m going to finish.” His voice sounds rough, almost pained. “You’re going to hold my come in your mouth. Don’t swallow. And don’t let any slip out. Understand?”

I nod without releasing him. It’s almost a shock when his hands close behind my head. I jerk away and then catch myself. He doesn’t reprimand me, just holds me inexorably while his hips pump faster than I had done for him.

Then his grip tightens even more, and he slides in farther than before.

His cock nudges the back of my throat, and I struggle not to gag, struggle not to fight him as he holds me in place. “Ah fuck,” he mutters between clenched teeth. “So fucking good. Hold it. Hold it in.”

Hot liquid fills my mouth, almost spilling out of my lips as his cock continues to pump in and out of me. I seal my lips as hard as I can, struggling to keep it in. The urge to swallow it is strong now that my mouth is full. It’s too full, with his come and his cock still pulsing.

As his climax fades, he relaxes back in his chair. “Perfect,” he says, sounding relaxed, almost drugged.

I make an urgent sound, still holding all of him in my mouth.

He looks at me from beneath heavy lashes. His smile is knowing and almost mischievous. “Hold it, girl. Don’t make me spank your ass tonight.”

The sound I make is pure frustration.

It only seems to please him, and he settles into the chair, leaning back, looking supremely comfortable as his cock softens in my mouth. “I know it’s hard,” he says, only sounding a little sympathetic. “But I think you can hold it. Just until I’m hard again. Once you have two loads, you can swallow.”

I know my eyes must be wide as saucers, because I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Two loads? My lips are already trembling with the effort of holding in one.

He doesn’t bother arguing the point. He just sighs with obvious pleasure and caresses the hair at my temple.

The strain of keeping all of it in my mouth, of not being able to swallow, begins to break me apart. It hurts in a way that his rough hands and hard cock couldn’t pierce me last night. I feel my will begin to wear down. I didn’t even know I’d been holding on to something stubborn, something prideful before this, but I feel it crumble now.

My own body works against me, producing saliva to combat the salty, sticky flavor of him. It only produces more liquid for me to hold. Some of it dribbles out of the side of my mouth. I must look dirty. I must look pathetic.

His expression is nothing short of admiring. “You’re beautiful like this,” he says softly.

I can only blink up at him in response. My eyes fill with tears—a physical reaction to the stress of holding my mouth like this. And an emotional reaction to the vulnerability of it. I’m subservient to him in a way I had never imagined I could be. And I realize I was wrong before, to compare him to Leader Allen. Leader Allen may have touched my body. He may have made me kneel. But he would never have dominated me like this, so intensely it feels like I’m ripping apart just to please him for one second longer.

My lower lip is trembling now, almost violently with the effort. I feel the first twitch of his cock, and I realize that it’s my strain, my suffering, that’s getting him hard again.

The first time he came was a long buildup, steady thrusts and tender touches. This time he starts fucking my mouth almost right away. His hands lock behind my head. Short, fierce thrusts take me by surprise, and I can’t keep the come inside anymore. It spills out of my lips and down my chin. I don’t have time to wipe it or even feel embarrassed because he’s going too fast. I can only kneel with my mouth open as he finishes himself off.

In the end he presses deep—deep enough that swallowing isn’t a choice. Thick, hot come pulses at the back of my throat, and I swallow to keep from choking.

He holds me that way, cradling my head until he’s finished. When he pulls away, I move to wipe my face, but he stops me with a soft negative sound. “Wait here,” he says.

He returns in a minute with a warm washcloth, which he uses on my breasts, where drops dot my skin, and on my chin. He finds a clean corner of the washcloth and presses it into my mouth. “Suck,” he says, and I suckle the fabric until warm water trickles down my throat.

Only then can I ask him the question I’ve been holding in. “Ivan…tell me you weren’t serious about visiting Leader Allen.”

Okay, so I don’t really phrase it like a question. But I need to hear him say the words. I need him to reassure me that he’ll never confront Leader Allen—especially on his home turf.

Surprise flashes over his face, followed by understanding. He crouches down so we’re at eye level—almost. “You think he’s terrorizing my club. My girls. You have to know I can’t let that stand.”

“But I thought you said it wasn’t him,” I say hopefully, knowing it’s useless.

His expression conveys disapproval. “And you said it was him. The only way we’ll know for sure is to find proof. Since whoever this is covered their tracks very well, the second-best option is to confront him.”

“You can’t—” I struggle for how to say this. “You can’t go there. You can’t trust him. He’ll hurt you.”

That amuses him. “No, little one. That’s not how this will go down.”