Your Girlfriend Calls Me Daddy-Chapter 74 - 75 | An Unfiled Report

The perfect class representative with her perfect grades and perfect attendance just swore directly into my ear in the middle of getting railed.

That might have been the hottest thing that had happened all week.

"Say it again," I told her.

"What—ah—"

"Say fuck again."

"I—no—that’s—ah!—inappropriate—"

I laughed and thrust harder, which made her lose whatever argument she was trying to construct. Her voice dissolved into incoherent sounds, half-formed syllables that might have been my name or might have been nothing at all.

Her body was doing all the talking now anyway. The way she clenched around me. The way her hips rolled forward even though her legs had given up entirely. The way her nails dug into my back hard enough to leave marks I’d see tomorrow.

The drain spiked, sharp and sudden, her Essentia flooding through the channel so hard I felt it in my teeth.

She came with a cry that she tried to muffle against my shoulder and failed completely. Her whole body went rigid, trembling, every muscle locked tight while the orgasm tore through her.

I kept moving through it, dragging it out, making her feel every second of it while her moans turned broken and desperate in my ear.

Beautiful.

Devastated.

Mine.

That last thought arrived unwelcome and I filed it away for later examination, specifically at any point when Cheon wasn’t falling apart on top of me.

Her body went limp, boneless, her breathing ragged against my neck. The trembling in her legs had turned into a full-body shiver that had nothing to do with temperature.

I slowed down, gentler now, letting her ride out the aftershocks.

"Rome," she whispered, barely audible.

"Still here."

"I can’t—I can’t think—"

"Good."

She made a sound that might have been a laugh or might have been another moan. Hard to tell. Her brain had clearly left the building.

The drain between us was still running, warm and constant, cycling our Essentia back and forth in a rhythm that matched our breathing. I could feel her in my chest, bright and electric and thoroughly satisfied.

I hadn’t finished yet. A fact that my body was very insistently reminding me of.

Cheon seemed to realize this at the same time because she stirred slightly, her hands moving from my shoulders to brace against my chest, trying to lift herself up.

"Don’t," I said.

"But you didn’t—"

"I know."

"I want—" She stopped, her face flushing darker, which was impressive considering how flushed she already was.

"Want what."

"I want you to finish," she said quietly, not quite meeting my eyes even though her face was two inches from mine.

There was something in her voice. Something uncertain but genuine. Like she was admitting to wanting something she thought she shouldn’t want.

I filed that away too. Lot of filing happening tonight. I’d need a bigger cabinet.

"You sure," I asked.

She nodded against my shoulder. Then, quieter, almost too quiet to hear, "Please."

Fuck.

The class representative saying please while lying boneless on my chest with her body still trembling from two orgasms was doing things to my self-control that I hadn’t adequately prepared for.

I rolled us over, her back hitting the mattress, her hair spreading out across the dark sheets like a halo. Her legs came up around my waist automatically, locking at the ankles. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

Her grey eyes looked up at me, wide and dark and completely wrecked.

"Tell me if it’s too much," I said.

"It already is," she whispered. "Don’t stop."

I kissed her, deep and slow, tasting her earlier orgasm on her tongue, tasting the way she gasped against my mouth when I moved.

Then I started building toward my own finish.

The pace was different now. Harder. Faster. Chasing something specific instead of trying to drag things out.

Plap plap plap plap.

Cheon’s moans came back, softer this time, broken up by sharp gasps every time I hit deep. Her fingers tangled in my hair, her other hand pressed flat against my back, holding me close.

The drain opened wider. So wide I felt it in every nerve ending, her Essentia pouring through in waves while mine pushed back just as hard.

"Rome—ah—it’s—too much—I’m—"

"Again?" I asked, because apparently she had a third one in her already.

Overachiever.

"I don’t—I can’t—ah!"

She could. Her body was already climbing toward it, tightening around me in a rhythm that was going to push me over the edge whether I wanted it to or not.

I dropped my forehead against hers, my breathing as unsteady as hers now, everything building toward the breaking point.

"Hae-Won," I said.

"Don’t—ah—don’t say my name like that—"

"Like what."

"Like you—ah—fuck—"

There it was again. I grinned against her mouth and she kissed me hard enough to bruise, swallowing whatever smartass comment I’d been about to make.

The drain spiked. Her Essentia flooded through so hard I saw white. Her body clenched around me, trembling, and she came again with my name breaking apart in her mouth.

That did it.

I followed her over, my vision whiting out, the drain cycling our energy so fast I couldn’t track it anymore. Everything dissolved into sensation and heat and the sound of Cheon’s voice in my ear, saying my name over and over like a prayer or a curse or both.

When I could think again, I was collapsed on top of her, most of my weight braced on my forearms to keep from crushing her completely.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath mine. Her arms were still around me, holding on like she wasn’t quite ready to let go yet.

"That," she said eventually, her voice hoarse, "was significantly more intense than I expected."

I laughed. Couldn’t help it.

She swatted my shoulder weakly. "Stop laughing at me."

"I’m not laughing at you."

"You are."

"I’m laughing because you sound like you’re filing a report."

"I’m processing," she said with as much dignity as someone completely naked and thoroughly debauched could manage.

Which was surprisingly a lot, actually.

The class representative never fully left.

I rolled off her and dealt with the condom situation, which involved getting up and finding a trash can and returning to find Cheon had pulled the sheet up to her chin and was staring at the ceiling with her hair everywhere and her expression somewhere between satisfied and mortified.

"You good?" I asked.

"I’m fine."

"You sure."

"Yes. I’m fine. This is fine. Everything is fine."

"You said fine three times."

"Because I am."

"Hae-Won."

She turned her head to look at me. Her grey eyes still dark, her face still flushed, her mouth still swollen from kissing.

"I should probably go home," she said quietly.

"Your overnight bag is sitting on the chair."

"That doesn’t mean I have to use it."

"No," I agreed. "But you want to."

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

"Yes," she admitted.

"Then stay."