Our satin sheets felt liquid as I slid into bed beside you and nestled against you. You rolled from your back to your side and scooped me closer.
“What time is it?” you asked, your voice hoarse with sleep.
“Did you get your painting done?”
“Yes.” My hands were raw from scrubbing, still stained from the ink I had used. But finally, after weeks of work with too much coffee and too few naps, the canvas was done. I could sleep at last.
Your hands found my hips and pulled me closer to you, and I realized you weren’t wearing anything. Your cock was already hard and pressing against my ass.
“I’m so fucking proud of you,” you murmured in my ear, nibbling it between slow, sleepy syllables. “I’m so fucking proud you’re mine.”
“Mmm… then prove it,” I whispered, moving my hips to grind back against you slowly. My exhausted mind screamed at me to close my eyes, but my body wanted you so badly. A reward for the weeks of hard work and not nearly enough play.
“Don’t start nothing you don’t intend to finish, little girl.”
“Make me yours. Claim me. If you can.”
You growled and simultaneously wrapped one hand around my neck and used the other hand to rip my panties to one side. I gasped as you plunged one finger into me, then a second. I expected you to start slowly, like you normally do, but instead you thrust them fast, curling them to perfectly meet my g-spot. I tried to moan, but you squeezed the hand around my neck, choking off the sound.
“My perfect little pussy is soaking wet already. Fuck, I love how much of a slut you are for me.” You rolled over onto your back again, and pulled me on top of you as though I weighed nothing. “Show me. Show me how much a slut you are for Daddy’s cock.”
I sank down onto you and this time we both moaned into the night. Fuck, it had been too long. Too many late nights in the studio had eaten into our relationship. I hadn’t just deprived myself of sleep. I had missed you more than I realized. I needed you, more than sleep. More than air.
I scratched my fingers down your chest and you gripped my hips so hard I knew there would still be marks in the morning. My skin was your canvas, and it was most beautiful when covered with bite marks and scratches and hand prints.
Grinding wasn’t enough. I needed more. I started to bounce, and you met every downward motion with a hard thrust upward.
Your moans told me you missed me too.
“Fuuuuuuck, baby, that’s it. Right there. Use Daddy’s cock. Ride me hard until you cum. I want to feel you explode all fucking over me. That’s my orgasm.”
“Oh fuck,” I panted, riding hard. “Right there. Right there. Fuck, don’t stop.”
You wrapped your arms around me and pulled me to you, then thrust up into me hard and fast. “Cum. Cum for me. Hard, baby. Daddy needs to feel it.”
I cried out and throbbed around your cock, screaming as you fucked me through the wave of my orgasm.
“Don’t stop,” I moaned, holding tight to your chest.
You flipped me onto my back, and slid into me again with a chuckle. “You think I’m done with you already? I’m not fucking stopping until I rip another one of those orgasms from your pretty little pussy. Mine. You’re all mine.”
I moaned again as you bit down hard on my shoulder. Every plunge into me made me gasp, and it was only minutes before I was on the edge of orgasm again. My nerves were on fire for you, tingles running up and down my spine.
“Please,” I whispered, unable to say more. I wrapped my legs around your waist. “Please, Daddy.”
You knew exactly what I needed. You pressed your forehead to mine and your thrusts became erratic.
“Now. Cum with me, babygirl. Now.”
I felt you explode in me and it drove me over the edge. We howled together again into the night, and you kept going, fucking your cum deep into me as you bit my shoulder again, leaving another dark mark on my skin.
One final thrust, and you held still in me and kissed me deeply.
“I’m yours,” I whispered into your kiss.
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