Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 17724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
“Is that—how it—works?” she whimpers.
“For us. Yes.”
She bucks her hips even more wildly.
I pound into my good girl so hard the couch protests. Whines like it might break.
Minutes pass. Or maybe hours.
Time loses all meaning as I dominate and please her passage.
She buries her face in my neck to catch her scream.
But that’s not what tells me she’s cumming. It’s the grip-then-loosen of her slit, her tunnel milking my cock. Massaging me so that cum rushes up my shaft.
I bite down, tangle my fist in her hair. Breathe in the scent of her as I try to hold back, try to let her finish before I fill her with my cream.
She whimpers in my ear. “Won’t I get pregnant if you cum in me, Daddy?”
I lean up again. Stare down at her. “Maybe that’s what I want,” I snarl.
“Wuh-what?”
“Nobody else. Deserves you. Nobody else—will ever touch you. Just me. A baby will make sure of that. Will… bind you… to me …”
She pouts, shaking her head. “Lex…”
The fact she’s using my name is a sign. She’s serious.
I pull out of her. Frantic, gasping, hardly able to breathe.
“Taste your horny slit,” I snarl. “Suck Daddy’s dick. I want to see your little throat shifting as you swallow every last fucking drop.”
“Oh, Daddy …”
We’re back under the spell.
I stand and she leans forward. Takes my end in her mouth again. The fact she’s sucking her own release drives me feral. I fist her hair with both hands and drive forward.
My cock slams into the back of her throat. She makes a sexy choking noise, then I explode.
A waterfall of cum explodes out of me, gushing into her mouth.
I stare at her throat. Shimmering as my cum flows down her neck.
Finally, I stumble back. “Fuck,” I whisper. “I’ve never lost control like that.”
She wipes her mouth. Looks at me with a mixture of confusion and awe. “Me neither,” she murmurs. “That was … I think you should go.”
“Go?” I snap.
She reaches for her clothes. “I need time to think. Please, don’t make this hard.”
“You wanted it as badly as me.”
She throws her hands up, clothes forgotten. “I didn’t say I didn’t! But I need time to think. Can you give me that?”
I don’t want to leave her. But if there’s one thing she deserves, it’s respect. Even from me.
Getting dressed and walking out is not what I wanted to do. A first for me.
When the door closes behind me, I know I’ll never be the same again.
6
ROSE
This is what I wanted. Time to think.
I try to listen to the voice in my bed as I toss and turn that evening. Sleep seems a long way off.
I never dreamed I’d let myself go like that.
When he called himself Daddy, something woke up inside of me. A breed of lust I never knew existed. A species of want I wouldn’t have imagined before he laid his inked hands on me.
I told him to go because I wanted to clear my head. But the hours since he left have only made me more confused.
Tossing and turning isn’t fun, but what else am I going to do? March next door and wake Mr Mystery in the middle of the night? Tell him losing my virginity to him was the most magical experience possible and I’m thirsty for round two already?
Just let it go. It was a bit of fun. Move on.
I think of the face he made when I mentioned Russian organized crime. I’m naïve in some ways—I won’t lie—but I’m not an idiot. Those tattoos and his general demeanor should be setting off alarm bells … gigantic fucking bells.
But honestly?
It just makes me want him more.
He spoke to me like I was his already. Like we went from never to forever in record time.
I close my eyes. Try not to see Lex …
And, of course, I fail.
The next day, I go into the backyard and get more work done. I’m pretty sure I see his curtains twitch once or twice. But that could be my mind and mood playing tricks on me. Giving me what I want and shouldn’t want.
I keep thinking about him coming around here again. Leaping the fence like he isn’t north of a ripped two-forty pounds and taking the shovel from my hands. I imagine lying in his arms after we had sex, talking about a future I shouldn’t even care about.
He doesn’t come outside. Maybe he’s giving me what I said I wanted.
Space.
Time to think.
But all I can think about is how badly I need him again.
I go to bed early, trying to lose myself in a book on my Kindle. I like fast-paced thrillers these days, short chapters, punchy and distracting. Ever since Mom passed, these are the only kinds of books that have been able to drag me away from the abyss.