Page 172 of Daddy's Pride
“Desperate?”
“Desperately drippy for Daddy,” was the answer.
Damn if her girl didn’t know how to get her wet. Slowly, she nudged at Rachel’s entrance, using her hand to guide it in place. It felt like an assault on her own senses, let alone Rachel’s. The strap moved deeper inside her, just as she pushed into Rachel, and as she bottomed out, her pelvic bone flat against Rachel’s, she thought she might come again.
Looking at Rachel, Isla realized that her girlfriend was close to coming too.
“Hey babygirl,” she said, her voice soft.
“Hey Daddy.” Everything about Rachel felt coiled, anticipatory. So much so that it colored her words.
“What is it you do when you need to stop and you forget your words?”
Rachel looked confused. “I can traffic light, Daddy.”
“Oh darling,” Isla thrust and Rachel’s mouth dropped open in a wordless gasp. “I intend on fucking all of the words out of you, so I need to make sure you know how to say when you’ve had enough.”
“I can take it, Daddy.”
“I know you can, princess. You took my fingers so so well before, and you come so prettily for me. But I want to check anyway. What will you do to show me that you’ve had enough?”
“I’ll tap out,” said Rachel, confirming what their agreement already was. “I’ll tap out on the bed.”
“Well done, angel. Now, hang on.” And after a slow withdrawal that they both felt, Isla slammed back into her princess, and Rachel gasped.
This wasn’t the controlled fucking that Isla usually engaged in, where all the focus was on her girl, and barely any thought given to her. She was so full, so wound tightly, that letting lose, letting that concentration break even for a minute, was enough for her control to snap.
She drove into Rachel again and again, never even pausing as she gasped out, “This good, babygirl?”
“Don’t. Stop. Fucking. Me. Daddy.” Her Rachel growled out the words, her register deeper than Isla had ever heard it, and when she met her girl’s eyes, she saw the dazed desire there. “More. Give me more, Daddy. Please.”
And Isla did.
Fast movements, in and out, only once pausing to grab Rachel’s hand and press it against her clit. “Play with yourself, baby.” She was holding herself up with both hands so that she could get the angle perfect, and also not crush the woman beneath her. “You show me what a big girl you are, coming for Daddy.”
And as she sped up, moving harder and faster, her own cunt clutching at the strap inside her, Rachel spilled over the edge and into an orgasm, screaming as she did so.
Watching her girl lose control like that, seeing her release all of the stress and the tension that she’d been holding on to, was the final straw for Isla.
She lost it. Fucking her girlfriend so completely that each time Rachel came down from those heady heights, Isla fucked her right back up there again.
Somehow, Rachel managed to get her thumb beneath the criss-cross of the strap’s harness, and brushed her thumb against Isla’s clit and then Isla was coming again, crying her pleasure into Rachel’s shoulder.
It was Rachel who eased the strap out of her, undoing the harness, placing it to the side. It was Rachel who rolled Isla onto her side, and held her in her arms.
It was Rachel who looked after her whilst she cried.
Afterwards, Isla asked why.
“Because you needed me. You may be my Daddy,” said Rachel. “But you’re my girlfriend too. And as much as you look after me, I look after you too.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The week after the market, Rachel walked around in a haze. Isla and Cat persuaded her to take a few days off from work, and so she spent them mainly sleeping. But each day she tried to go out for a walk.
There were walks by the sea—which were always delightful, because frankly who didn’t want to hear the sound of waves shucking pebbles along the shore?—but also, Brighton sat at the foot of the South Downs, which meant that if Rachel got a bus, she could walk along Ditchling Beacon.
It was slightly muddier than she was entirely comfortable with, but the views were spectacular. Huge rolling hills as far as the eye could see, with little clusters of homes here and there.