Daddy PI: Book 1 of the Daddy PI Casefiles by Frost, J (reading comprehension books .txt) 📕

“Come here, Princess!” Logan roars, lifting his sword and flexing his biceps.

Shit! There goes Buttercup again, fleeing into the hills. I knew I’d have been better off channelling Tamar.

I grab my skirts and Mikaela’s hand again and drag her with me as I scamper away from Logan, hurtling Shaan’s outstretched legs, ending up in front of my throne. Behind me, chaos reigns as knights pour through the archway and grab wenches.

Logan skids to a stop behind my throne and glowers at me over the backrest. “Surrender, Princess,” he growls.

“Jacknape! Poxy-ridden cur! Princess Amber will die before she surrenders!”

“That can be arranged.” Logan’s eyes under the brim of the helmet are burning hell pits. Another trill of hot adrenaline shoots through me.

“Black heart!” I yell at him. “Never give up, never surrender!”

To my right, Gabriela begins laughing. Traitor. Never trust a Domme.

Logan grips the back of the throne with both hands, tossing aside his sword. I grab for Mikaela’s hand again, preparing to bolt in the other direction. My hand closes on empty air. I do a double-take and see Mikaela being dragged off by Paul and a surfer-Dom.

“Toadying varlets!” I shout after them, before whipping back around to face the threat behind the chair.

Only to find myself nose-to-chest with Logan as he stands directly in front of me, my former throne tossed behind him like a matchstick.

“Eek!”

He grabs me before I can bolt and throws me over his shoulder. His arm closes around the backs of my legs like a clamp. That damn granite slab blisters my rear again.

“Ow!”

Logan bounces me on his shoulder. “Thinking twice about surrendering, Princess?”

“Never, you boorish churl!”

“I’m keeping track of these insults, Princess. You’re going to pay with flesh and tears for each one. No one besmirches the Black Knight’s honor.”

Wow, besmirches, good word. I’d compliment him on it, but the only compliment Princess Amber would pay the Black Knight is spitting on his grave.

“Honor!” I yell. “You know nothing of honor, you mannerless, base-born wretch! Put me down and quit my father’s castle before King Henry descends on you in all his righteous fury—oof!”

Logan bounces me hard on his shoulder, knocking the wind out of me before I can even finish threatening him. So rude! I pound on his back with my fists.

Chuckling, Logan strides across the dais, bouncing me and spanking me with each step. Behind us, Gabriela rises regally from her chair, puts her velvet-slippered foot into the saddle of a knight’s cupped hands, and lets him lift her to his shoulder. She perches like a queen in a palanquin. She ducks neatly to avoid bumping her head on the archway, as her knight staggers after us. When she straightens, she surveys the room like an empress looking over her empire. Dang, she has the whole royal-‘tude down pat. She should have been Princess Amber. She’d never have gotten dragged out of her castle over some ruffian’s shoulder.

I haven’t used that one yet.

“Put me down, you pigeon-livered ruffian!”

“That’s nineteen, Princess,” Logan growls with an even harder swat across my stinging backside. “Want to go for an even twenty?”

“It hasn’t even been a dozen,” I protest. “You count as ill as you fight, lack-wit!”

“Twenty,” Logan says, with another swat. “Your mouth is creating a debt that your ass is going to have a hard time paying, little girl. But first.” He swings me off his shoulder and dumps me onto my knees between his feet. As I begin to push up off the floor, his hand descends and clamps the back of my neck. He wraps my braid around his hand like a leash, and holds me still with an iron grip on my hair. “It’s time to service your conqueror. Open up.”

He thumbs my lower lip, staring down at me with eyes that have gone absolutely demonic. Not even Princess Amber in the middle of a blizzard could resist the power in those eyes.

I whisper, “melting,” before I open my mouth.

In one smooth motion, he drags down his zipper, pulls out his furiously hard, red cock and shoves it into my mouth.

I lick and slurp because I know I only have seconds before he goes down my throat and there’s nothing more uncomfortable than a dry cock down your throat. I’m not wrong and before I can even glare an insult at him, he’s pushing hard to the back of my throat and then down. I swallow-swallow-swallow to avoid gagging. Both of his huge hands sink into my hair and he pulls me back off him for a second so I can gasp in a breath. Then he drags my head in again, driving down my throat. It burns and I have to swallow like I’m chugging a beer. As I begin to float, the discomfort fades. My chin lifts, and my throat opens, and I find the angle where it’s just a perfect slide in, in, in, and out.

Logan hits his rhythm, pulling my face all the way in so my nose brushes his stomach, holding for a count of three, before dragging me backwards so I can gulp a breath. While he’s holding my nose to his groin, he goes up on his toes so he’s actually driving the last inch down my throat. Oh, wow, so domly. My eyes roll back in my head until he growls, “Eyes,” and my gaze snaps back to his. My lips and chin grow wet with spit as he thrusts but I don’t care. All I can see is those burning, dark eyes, controlling and commanding my every move, my every breath. All I can feel is the pump of his firm flesh along my tongue, deep in my throat. All I want is for my daddy to come in my mouth.

He gives me a warning. A slight increase in speed, and a growled, “Swallow every drop, Princess.”

I drag in a deep breath and hold it before he powers into my throat a half-dozen times. Each