Chapter 4 - DADDY...

A wave of heat washed over me as he shifted, his body aligning with mine. I felt the blunt tip of his cock pressing against my entrance, and a mixture of fear and anticipation coursed through me. He was so big, and I was so incredibly inexperienced.

“Daddy,” I breathed, my voice trembling slightly.

He paused, his gaze locking with mine. "It's okay, baby," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through me. "I've got you."

He leaned down, his lips brushing against mine as he began to stroke himself with his hands, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency. Each stroke brought him closer, the tip of his cock teasing my entrance, sending sparks of pleasure and a hint of delicious pain shooting through me.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his breath hot on my skin. "So fucking good." I guess he was imagining it was me.

Then, without warning, he slammed into me, filling me completely or so I thought. A cry escaped my lips, a mixture of pain and pleasure so intense that I wasn't sure which emotion was winning.

He held himself there, buried deep inside me, his chest heaving as he fought for control. I could feel the rapid beat of his heart against mine, and the heat radiating from his body seemed to envelop me completely.

"Fuck, princess," he groaned, his voice rough with desire.

And then, he began to move.

He moved slowly at first, mindful of my virginity, his thrusts shallow but deliberate. A sharp pain shot through me with each thrust, but it was quickly overshadowed by a deeper, more primal kind of pleasure that left me gasping for breath.

He held my hands pinned above my head, his grip surprisingly gentle despite the raw intensity of his movements. His lips trailed fire across my skin, kissing away any hint of discomfort. His mouth moved from my lips to my jawline, down the curve of my neck, and then lingered at the sensitive skin beneath my ear. He nipped and sucked at the delicate flesh there, drawing a surprised moan from my lips.

"Relax, sweetheart," he murmured against my skin reassuringly. "I've got you."

His words, combined with the intoxicating rhythm of his movements, slowly began to work their magic. The pain subsided, replaced by a building pressure, a delicious ache that seemed to spread from the core of my being. I found myself moving in sync with him, my hips meeting his thrusts, my body craving more.

"Daddy," I gasped, my voice breathy. "Faster. Please, go deeper."

He hesitated, his gaze searching mine as if gauging my sincerity. "You sure, princess?" he asked, his voice husky.

I nodded, unable to speak past the knot of desire tightening in my stomach.

“You need to answer me in words, love”

“Y-yes”

The look in his eyes darkened, and with a low growl, he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt. I cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure escaping my lips as he stretched me in ways I never imagined possible.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming deeper, more insistent, driving me closer and closer to the edge. His name became my mantra, a prayer escaping my lips with every breath, every thrust, every surge of pleasure that ripped through me.

And then, I shattered.

My orgasm hit like a tidal wave, washing over me, consuming me in a white-warm explosion of pure sensation. I cried out, my body trembling uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through me.

But Daddy didn't stop. He continued to slam into me, his movements relentless, his breathing ragged in my ear. "Fuck, princess, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice raw with desire. "So fucking incredible."

He was close, I could feel it. His body, normally so controlled, was taut with anticipation. He paused for a moment, his gaze meeting mine. "Can I?" he asked, his voice husky. "Can I come inside you?"

I knew I should say no, that this was already so much more than I had bargained for. But the words that escaped my lips were different. "Yes," I breathed, my voice trembling. "Please, Daddy."

He groaned, a deep primal sound of pure male satisfaction, and with a final, powerful thrust, he spilled into me.

The feeling of him filling me, warm and thick, was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. A wave of contentment washed over me, chasing away the last vestiges of the orgasm that still lingered in my limbs.

He slowly withdrew, collapsing beside me on the bed. We lay there for a moment, our chests heaving, our bodies still intertwined. The silence was broken only by the sound of our breathing, gradually returning to normal.

When he finally turned to face me, his eyes were filled with a mixture of tenderness and something else… something that looked suspiciously like awe.

“That,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, “was… incredible. But” he stopped for a moment his eyes dark “Just know you didn't get to be tortured because this was your first time” he said and my face burned with embarrassment.

“Can we go again?” I asked, there was amusement… hope in his eyes but immediately it died down and his voiced turned monotone once more.

“Go to sleep princess” he said and I was already tired, I would probably collapse if he put his dick in me again so I didn't argue.

I snuggled myself closer to him and his musky smell of sandalwood and leather enveloped my senses and hesitantly he wrapped his arms around me and I drifted off to sleep.

Luca's POV

The faint glow of the sunrise was beginning to paint the sky a pale shade of pink as I carefully, almost reverently, unwrapped myself from her sleeping form. Her head rested on the pillow, her lips slightly parted as she breathed softly. She looked peaceful, innocent even, a stark contrast to the wild woman she’d been just a few hours ago.

My gaze lingered on her, taking in the curve of her hip, the swell of her breast peeking out from beneath the rumpled sheets. She was beautiful, captivating. The memory of her surrender, the way she’d whispered “daddy” with a mixture of fear and yearning, sent a jolt of something unfamiliar coursing through me.

I’d never stayed with a woman past sunrise. Hell, I barely remembered what their face looked like, One night, maybe two, was my limit. Always had been. Keeping women at arm’s length had become as ingrained in me as breathing.

But she… she was different. There was an allure about her, a vulnerability that went beyond her lack of experience. It was in the way she looked at me, the way she trusted me, even when she was terrified. The fact that she was the first virgin I’d ever been with probably didn’t help matters.

A muscle ticked in my jaw as I pulled on my clothes, my gaze still drawn to her sleeping form. The urge to wake her, to spend the entire day tangled in the sheets, was surprisingly strong. But the familiar voice of caution, the one that had kept my heart frozen for so long, whispered warnings in my ear.

I wasn’t good at relationships. Hell, I was downright terrible at them. My life was a whirlwind of business deals, late-night meetings, and fleeting pleasures. Tying myself to someone, even someone as intriguing as her, would only complicate things.

And yet…

I found myself reaching for a pen and paper from my suit jacket pocket, scribbling a note on the bedside table. The words felt foreign, cringe-worthy even, but I couldn't bring myself to leave just like that. Not this time. She trusted me annd let me have her.

“Princess,” the note read, the nickname feeling oddly natural despite the unfamiliar pang in my chest, "I'll be gone before you wake. Have a nice rest and think about Daddy."

I stared at the word “Daddy,” a humorless laugh escaping my lips. What the hell was I doing? This was insane. I made her call me that, and it felt so good. I crumpled the paper in my hand, ready to toss it aside and walk away like I always did.

But something stopped me. Some invisible force, a pull I couldn’t explain, compelled me to leave the damn note. So I did.

The cool breeze of the pre-dawn air hit me like a slap as I walked towards my car. 5:36 AM. The city was just beginning to stir, its usual energy muted by the pre-dawn light. It was left with a very few people in the club.

As I drove towards my penthouse, the image of her sleeping face, her hair fanned out across the pillow, filled my mind. The memory of her touch, her taste, lingered on my skin. It was intoxicating and terrifying in equal measure.

I didn't learn her name. I'll just stick with princess.

And then, another image, unwelcome but persistent, forced its way to the forefront of my mind: my mother’s face, etched with pain and disappointment, her voice a broken whisper as she uttered her dying words: "Don't end up alone, Luca. Don't make the same mistakes I did."

I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. The weight of her words, words I’d tried so hard to ignore, pressed down on me.

She, princess. My mother. Two women, from different worlds, both capable of stirring emotions within me that I thought long dead.

The conflict raged inside me, a tempest threatening to consume me. And as I drove towards the cold, sterile sanctuary of my penthouse, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was standing at a crossroads. The question was, did I have the courage to choose a different path?