Daddy PI: Book 1 of the Daddy PI Casefiles Frost, J (acx book reading txt) 📖

anywhere and the stairwell’s filling up with people moving towards their boats anyway. “I think he looks like a Viking.”

Logan chuckles. “Character inspiration, sweetheart?”

“Always.”

Logan leads me down the stairs, out on the deck and to our lifeboat, B-11, which, to my surprise, is a real boat, suspended a few feet above the deck on ropes. I’d assumed it would be a rubber raft. Logan and I join the ten other people in our boat and form a loose semicircle around it. Logan pulls me toward the back of the group and leans against a red container bolted to the deck labeled “life preservers.” He tucks me against him, my back to his chest, and crosses his arms over me.

“Pay attention,” he whispers into my hair.

“Yes, Sir.”

While I listen to the lifeboat drill, he tortures me. First by rubbing his erection over and between my ass cheeks, then by reaching under my skirt from behind and fingering me while tugging on the string of the Ben Wa balls.

“Keep them in,” he growls when the balls nearly slide out. I squeeze to pull them back in and desperately swallow my moans.

Once the drill is over and the insanely perky cruise director stops perking over the PA, he compounds the torture by holding me tight, his arm across my chest, while the other guests file away. He whispers to me, “I think every guy’s got a little Viking in him, don’t you, baby? You know what my inner Viking wants?”

I shake my head. I have no idea what his inner Viking wants, but I know what the Viking’s victim wants pretty desperately, as his fingers continue to tease. What she’s going to start screaming for in another second.

He works the Ben Wa balls, pulling them against my clenched muscles, pushing them back in when they slip too far, while he rubs his fingers all over, now teasing my clitoris, now tickling my sphincter. I have to clutch at the arm he’s got across me to hold myself still and bite my cheeks to keep silent.

“My inner Viking wants to raid a coastal village,” he growls to me. “Once the raiders finish plundering, you know where my Viking’s thoughts turn?”

I shake my head again, trying desperately not to whimper as he works the balls. My pussy, already well-fucked today, is burning and raw. The Ben Wa balls have kept me primed for hours and now he’s igniting all that simmering need. I’m not sure if it hurts or feels explosively amazing, only that I don’t want him to stop.

“There’s a nunnery on the hill above the village,” Logan continues in that deep rumble. “Run by a sweet little abbess with dark hair and hazel eyes. She resists the invaders. Bars the abbey doors. Fights back with fire. My Viking sacks the nunnery and drags her into the middle of the village and ties her to the whipping post. What does he do to her, do you think? Can you imagine, Emmy?”

My mind shoots in fifty directions, all of which crank me higher.

“My Viking flogs her modest habit right off her sweet little tits and saucy ass and then fucks her virgin holes, right against the post, in front of the whole village while she comes, again and again, screaming his name. That’s what my inner Viking wants. I think that’s a scene we might act out, don’t you? But first, you’re going come for me. Right here. Now, Emily.”

With a gasped “please,” clinging to his arm, arching up onto my toes and biting the insides of my cheeks until I taste copper, I come, spasming around the slipping, shifting balls.

He holds me tightly through the shaking aftermath, cupping his fingers over my pussy, whispering hot and sweet in my ear. “Such a good girl. Love seeing you come apart. Love feeling you shake. And you barely made a sound. Daddy’s so proud of his little girl.”

“Tuh-ta very much, Sir,” I manage to gasp.

“Give yourself a minute to settle and then I’ll walk you back to the cabin. It’s your free time from now until five, but if you’d give me an hour now, I’ll make it up to you tonight. I want you on my cock.”

“You don’t—” My voice comes out a squeak. I clear my throat and try again. “You don’t have to make it up to me. You can have whatever time you want, Sir.”

He nuzzles my temple. “Thank you, baby. We’ll do better with the schedule tomorrow. I’ll be respectful of your time. I know you have things to do.”

I couldn’t care less about the things I have to do. Despite coming a minute ago, the thing I most want to do right now is him.

* * *

At five o’clock, dressed again, grinning like the Cheshire Cat from the six—count them, six!—orgasms Logan’s given me today, we join what must be every other passenger on the ship in the embarkation lounge for the orientation session. The perky cruise director is even more bubbly in person, bouncing up and down a spiral staircase leading from the lounge to the casino mezzanine above. Boing, boing, boing. She’s like a blonde Energizer Bunny.

Watching her exhausts me and I lean into Logan. He takes my hand and draws it across his waist. I slide both arms around him, enjoying the muscled firmness of his body under the tweedy waistcoat he’s put over a blue button-down shirt. He’s rolled up the sleeves to show his corded forearms, and the open collar of the shirt frames the strong column of his neck. It’s his headmaster look, a very butch headmaster, and I want nothing more to be the naughty schoolgirl he bends over his desk.

I lean into him while we listen to the cruise director’s presentation. She explains the difference between public and private scenes, punctuating each point with a shake of the pom-poms that accessorize her pink cheerleader costume.

Her excessive enthusiasm sucks all remaining energy out of me. Between the time change and the