Highest Bidder (Salacious Players’ Club)

Daisy

I’m standing outside Ronan’s room, the black card in my hand. All I can think about is how deep I’m falling, knowing the further I go, the more it’s going to hurt. My throat is tight, aching with the pain of unshed tears. If this is what love feels like, I hate it.

I love him. Sitting in Eden’s room was the first time I voiced it, but not the first time I realized it. This is not a crush or an infatuation or an addiction. I care about this man more than I care about anyone else.

And I think he feels the same. When he walks into a crowded room, he looks for me. I am special to him. That’s all I ever wanted.

Ronan leads with his heart. So, I know this is not a fling or merely a hookup to him.

Surely, we can work this out. We’ll get through it. He might be angry about the secret I’m keeping, and it might take him time to get over it, but I have faith that we will overcome this.

We have to.

I press the black card against the panel on the door, and it beeps before I hear the lock click. When I step into the room, I see him sitting across the room in a large chair, staring down at his phone. As he spots me, he moves to get up, but I hold up a hand.

“Don’t,” I say is a soft command. “Just stay there.”

His head tilts in confusion, but he doesn’t move.

I could tell him everything right now…or I could savor this moment, indulging in what I have in my grasp right now. It’s not a hard choice to make.

“Just let me look at you,” I say in a slow, sultry tone.

His expression melts into a soft half-smile as he leans back in his chair, staring across the room at me with a hooded gaze. He’s so perfect, I want to worship him. I want to fall into his arms, give myself to him, make his pleasure my only purpose on earth. If only for tonight.

Slowly, I drop to my knees near the door, and his eyes darken at the sight. As I start crawling toward him without a word, his tongue peeks out to wet his lips before he tugs the bottom one between his teeth, biting down hard as he watches me move toward him on all fours.

When I reach him, I rest my cheek against his thigh, gazing up at him with adoration.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispers, brushing his fingers through my hair. I could stay like this forever, but I’m desperate for his pleasure. I need to make Ronan feel good.

Sliding my hands up his legs, I reach for his zipper. He catches my hand and holds them in place.

“What are you doing, Daisy?”

“Let me, Ronan,” I plead softly.

“You don’t need to do this.” There is no inflection in his voice, so I know he’s serious. It’s clear he’s not used to letting other people spoil him. Ronan is so used to taking care of others that he’s uncomfortable letting others take care of him. It makes me want to do it that much more.

“I know,” I reply. “I want to. Let me make you feel good, Daddy.”

There’s something intoxicating about using that term in a way that’s not playful or for the sake of being sexy. When it comes out of my mouth, it’s genuine, and judging by the sincerity in his eyes, he feels that too.

After a moment of hesitation, he loosens his grip on my hand, still touching me as I slowly peel open his pants. His cock is already hard behind his boxer briefs. Dragging down the elastic, I find his solid length and gently ease it out until I’m holding him in my hand.

His breathing grows shallow and labored as I stroke him slowly. I love watching the effect this has on him—grunting, squeezing, trembling. I’m desperate for more. Leaning forward, I run my tongue along his shaft, and immediately, he hisses, sucking in air between his teeth. So I do it again, teasing him and noticing the way he’s holding himself back. I’m drunk on his reactions.

Then, I take his swollen head between my lips, and he loses an ounce of control, digging his fingers in my hair and darkly muttering, “Fuck, baby girl.”

He keeps up his hissing and groaning as I suck, bobbing my head up and down on him. I think about everything through his perspective. How he gets off on my pleasure. Playing with my body to make me come. Finding my climaxes like little hidden pieces of gold.

With that, I suck harder on the head of his cock, watching his reaction as I do. He lets out a long, loud groan, his head hanging back, so I do it again and again. My thighs grow slick with arousal at the sight of him slowly coming undone.

After picking his head back up, he watches me as I suck and lick and play with his cock, enjoying his reactions to every little thing I do.

“Jesus, baby. Look at you,” he murmurs. “You’re my filthy, little girl, aren’t you?”

With a sweet hum around his cock, I gaze up at him as I nod. He’s losing control, like my very own sexy Jekyll and Hyde, letting out his vulgar side when he’s usually so sweet and kind.

“You love Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” he grits out.

Arousal tickles its way down my spine, spurred on by his dirty words, and I pick up my speed, humming my response. Clearly, I love Daddy’s cock.

His shaft is slick with saliva now as I wrap my hand tightly around him, stroking eagerly as I suck on the head. One of his hands grips tightly to the arm of his chair while the other holds gently to the back of my head.

I wish he’d push me down. I want him to choke me on his cock.

But he doesn’t. So I take him so far into the back of my throat that I gag, coughing as I come up, and he grunts in response. Then I touch the hand holding my head and show him how I want him to push me down.

“You want me to fuck your throat, baby girl?”

Gasping, I pull my mouth off of him. “Yes, Daddy.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mutters through clenched teeth.

“I trust you,” I reply, affectionately rubbing my hand up his leg. I watch the muscles in his jaw tic as he grinds his molars. Then his hand guides my mouth to his cock again, and I relax my throat as he shoves my head down. I gag again, saliva coating his cock, and I feel his head swell against my tongue.

His raspy groans and grunts fill the room as he holds my head in place, fucking my throat. My core pulses with need. I wish I understood why I love letting him use me like this. Maybe it’s a form of penance for my guilt. Or maybe it’s because Ronan is wholly perfect, and I love feeling him use my body for his own pleasure.

But I know what it costs him to let go like this. How much he’s going to pamper me later to make up for it, more for himself than for me.

More than anything, I want Ronan to know that I crave this as much as my own pleasure. I want it all. The good, the bad, everything.

Suddenly, he moans loudly before trying to pull me off.

I swat his hand away from my head and I grip his cock in my hand, stroking him until I feel his body stiffen.

“Daisy, I’m going to fucking come.”

I moan louder, my lips vibrating around him. My stroking picks up speed, and when I feel the head tighten even more, I know he’s there.

With my mouth open and my tongue out, I let him unload all over me. Salty jets of his cum land against the surface of my tongue and face.

“Oh fuck,” he mutters as he shivers out the rest of his orgasm.

He tears off his tie and uses it to clean the mess off my face, caressing my cheeks and chin as I close my mouth and swallow what landed on my tongue. His gaze darkens as I do.

“You really are Daddy’s girl, aren’t you, Daisy?”

I respond with a smile as he drags me up onto his lap, so I’m straddling him. Then he kisses a pattern around my neck and chest and up to my mouth. It’s not heated, it’s not leading anywhere. He’s literally kissing me to worship me.

Making him feel good quiets the shame and guilt, but only temporarily. Because feeling his love for me has it rising to the surface again.