Nurturing Britney (Surrender Book 7) by Becca Jameson (best books to read fiction .TXT) 📗

his free hand and strokes up and down the length of it across his lap. It feels good. It’s like two different sensations are bombarding me. The soothing tug on my pigtail every time he runs his fingers through it and the slowly growing arousal from the way he’s teasing the sensitive skin under my breast.

We swing in silence for a while, and his thumb gradually migrates closer and closer to my nipple. I stay as still as possible, feigning indifference, though I’m sure he knows. I will him to close the distance and touch my nipple. The hardened bud is rubbing against my cotton dress.

My panties are wet, and no matter how hard I squeeze my thighs together, nothing stops the growing need between my legs. My dress is disheveled and not even covering my bottom. The only thing between me and the cushion is my wet panties. I’m sure if anyone could see they would think I peed myself. I’m that wet.

All of my focus is on Davis’s thumb, easing back and forth, hitting the edge of my areola now, but not the tip. I need him to touch my little nipple so badly, but I won’t tell him this. I’m not that bold, and I’d be humiliated if he turned me down. I’m certain his every move is calculated. If he wanted to touch my nipple he would. He knows I’m hot and bothered.

The change is infinitesimal as he comes so close to my tender bud. I hold my breath for the last few strokes, anticipating the moment he will give me what I crave so badly.

Three things happen nearly simultaneously. Davis finally flicks the edge of my nipple, I whimper out loud, and I’m suddenly lifted off the chair and set on my feet.

I sway, unable to convince my legs to hold me up. I’m sure my eyes are wide. “Sir?”

“Time to go in, sweet girl. We need to see about dinner, and then you need to get to bed earlier if you’re going to join me in the gym in the morning.”

My mouth is dry. I’m so aroused I can’t think. My nipples feel like they are going to poke through the front of my dress. My pussy is pulsing.

The world is spinning out of control as Davis stands and takes my hand. “Ready?”

I’m not at all sure I can walk, but I nod and force my legs to move.

When we get inside, Davis leads me to the island. When we get to my usual stool, he comes around behind me, pulls my back against him, and flattens a palm on my belly. He slowly slides his hand downward until he reaches the hem of my dress. He gathers it up out of his way and then cups my pussy.

I gasp and rise onto my toes as he palms me, pressing my soaked panties against my clit. He grinds his hand there for several seconds while I imagine myself coming at any moment. He releases my pussy right before I’m certain I would have orgasmed. His lips come to my ear. “How do you like being my little girl so far, sweetie?”

I can’t breathe, but I somehow manage to respond. “I love it, Daddy.”

Chapter 25

Britney

It’s still dark when Davis sits on the edge of my bed and rubs my back. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he whispers. “You going to join me in the gym?”

I groan as I blink my eyes open.

He chuckles. “I don’t think my little girl is a morning person.”

I struggle to roll over, brushing my hair from my face.

“Up and at ’em, sweet girl.” He pulls my covers down, and I don’t even care that my nightie is not covering my bottom. He’s seen every inch of me.

I close my eyes again, remembering how he stroked me back to full arousal in the tub last night and then the way he teased my breasts before parting my thighs and rubbing my clit until I cried out from the orgasm that had been building for hours.

I’m smiling when Davis swats my bottom. “This was your idea, sweet girl. I’m going to give you about five seconds to get to your feet and then I’m going to spank your bottom hard enough to bring you fully awake.”

I jerk my eyes open and scramble out from under the covers. I’m swaying as I stand before him, a little lightheaded from moving so fast.

“Good girl.” He pulls my nightgown over my head and then leans down in front of me. When he taps my ankle. I realize I’m supposed to step into my panties.

It’s not until I’ve stepped in with both feet and he’s pulling them up my legs that I realize it’s not panties. I glance down to see black spandex shorts. He pulls them over my hips and pats my bottom. “Perfect fit.”

I’m not sure I agree. They are tight and very short. My cheeks are barely covered and without panties, the seam is between my labia.

“Arms up.”

Luckily, I’ve regained some equilibrium and manage to release his shoulders to lift my arms.

I’m not sure why I didn’t consider this part of asking to work out. I hadn’t thought about what he might have me wear. The shirt he’s now tugging down over my breasts is a tiny, tight, pink tank top. It would be too revealing for the beach, especially in combination with the tight shorts. It reaches my shorts but it hugs my breasts and nipples tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination.

I can’t imagine working out without a sports bra, especially jogging. Lucky for me, it’s not entirely necessary. My boobs are small, super-small compared to the ones I’m used to seeing on dancers at the club. Apparently, I didn’t get much breast tissue in the genetic gene pool.

The fact that a bra isn’t strictly necessary doesn’t change the fact that I’m used to wearing one and I feel oddly naked and exposed in this shirt.

I decide to speak up. “I’m not