The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection Frost, J (good beach reads .TXT) 📖

out his cock, and shoves it into Pence’s mouth. “I rather prefer it, actually.”

I’ve been watching Emily’s face during this exchange. The worry in her eyes has grown to fear.

“Javier’s not harming Pence,” I whisper to her. “He’s going to have a sore throat and a sore ass. That’s all. Focus on me.”

The line between her brows disappears and she sucks me a little deeper.

“That’s my girl,” I say, pitching my voice so Pence can hear. Javier’s blocking Pence’s view of us, but I want him to hear me praising Emily while he’s being choked and reamed. “Take me down and hold, sweetie. We’ll start with a count of five.”

She gives me a little nod before she sucks me to the back of her throat. I draw her hands to my thighs and let her work at her own pace. Although she trains for five minutes every night before bed with her toothbrush to suppress her gag reflex, she still gags when I hit the back of her throat during the first minute or two of a blow job.

Her nose is nearly brushing my trimmed pubic hair before she gags for the first time, which is further than she’s gotten before. I praise her lavishly, stroking her brow and cheeks, while she swallows. I give her a moment, and when she seems on top of it, push all the way in.

She holds my eyes, hers glittering with sweet tears, as I start the count. “One, baby doll. Two, baby doll.”

She holds it to five, good girl that she is. She coughs a little as I pull back, but manages a smile before I push forward again.

“You’re doing well. Daddy’s very pleased with you. All the way down again.” She takes my wet length a little more easily, making the first of those delicious, slurping noises as her cheeks hollow. When the tip of her nose touches my groin, I start the count. “One, wonderful baby. Two, wonderful baby.”

Happiness glazes those teary eyes as she starts to sink. Perfect. She often drops into subspace during a blow job, but with everything going on, I thought she might struggle. I fist my hand in her hair so she still feels my control even when I reach the end of the count. She doesn’t draw back or try to take a breath, so I keep counting. I reach fifteen before her shoulders jerk. That’s a sign she’s about to gag. I ease her back and let her take a couple of breaths while I praise her. The muscles of her face and throat are relaxed and her eyes are dreamy. I don’t take my cock out of her mouth and she holds my crown cupped on her tongue. Air whispers coolly along my wet shaft with each of her breaths.

“Count of seventeen this time.”

She tips her head up slightly in affirmation and I draw her mouth down my shaft again. Her throat is a furnace. Glorious, gripping heat. I sink all the way to the root and start the count. “One, sweetie-heart. Two, sweetie-heart.”

She coughs at fifteen, her throat squeezing, tears spilling, but she swallows in time to avoid gagging. Two more and I pull out so she can swallow and recover for moment.

“Excellent, my good girl. I’m so proud of you.”

She beams up at me through her tears. I stroke her chin, wiping off her spit, but leaving those lovely tear tracks that show exactly how hard she’s working to please me.

“One more time to twenty and then I’m going to fuck your mouth and you can gag whenever you need to.”

She nods eagerly. Such an angel. She licks my tip, drawing a groan out of me, before opening her mouth. I push firmly to the back of her throat. She’s more open now, even though her throat still grips and clutches deliciously as I go in. “One, angel baby. Two, angel baby.”

She makes it all the way to twenty, her throat squeezing me beautifully as she swallows to keep from gagging. Just as I’m about to call time, she pushes her head forward, pressing her nose into my skin. She wants to give me that little bit more. “Twenty-one, twenty-two, oh my perfect girl.” I ease her back. “Enough, enough. Don’t hurt your throat when there’s more to come. I’m so pleased with you, Emmy.”

Emotion shimmers in her eyes. She licks my tip as I draw my cock all the way out and give her a minute to breathe, stroking her head down onto my thigh. Her little hands steal up my hips. She wraps her arms around my waist and I give her a long moment of connection before moving on to the part that’s harder for her.

“Ready, baby girl?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispers so softly I can barely hear her over the squeals and choking noises coming from behind her.

“Hands behind your back, sweetheart. You can gag whenever you need to. Hum if you’re struggling.”

She moves straight into position. Immediate, unquestioning obedience. My heart swells so full it pushes all the air out of my lungs. I need this. I need her, just like this, every day for the rest of our lives.

When she opens her mouth, I fist her hair again, cup her cheek, and pump into her mouth. Tip to root, root to tip, warmth and wetness and wonderful, slick friction from her tongue and hard palate and throat. She gags while I’m pumping and I drive down to enjoy the squeeze and jerk, then pull back so she can get a breath before plunging all the way down and starting the count. “One, my fuck-baby. Two, my fuck-baby.”

She gags continually from twenty onward but gamely holds my eyes even while hers stream. Her hands stay clasped behind her back and she never once fights my hold on her hair. Unlike Pence, who is struggling against his bonds so hard the heavy wood creaks. I release Emily at twenty-eight and praise her loudly and lavishly, so that Pence