Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
He looks chagrined when we stop at our corner room, only to discover his room is the one next door. Right next door.
I should go down to the front desk and have us switched to another floor. Or hell, another hotel entirely. I’m going to do exactly that, until Haylo takes the keycard out of my pocket and taps it to the sensor, making the little green lights flash. Phil enters his room without another word, and we enter ours, the cool, crisp air beckoning.
Nothing beckons to me as much as she does, though, this gorgeous girl who toes off her shoes and strips off her tank top against the silhouette of the Barcelona lights visible through the giant picture window. I don’t bother turning on any lamps, because those distant twinkling lights of the city are enough for me to see Haylo press her bare back up against the wall. No…
It's the locked adjoining door leading to the room next door.
Tipping her head back on an audible breath, she draws up her skirt with one hand, pressing two fingers to the slit protected by her panties, rubbing herself through the purple silk. I get undressed while I watch her, taking off everything but my briefs, approaching her with the fierce ache hanging thick and urgent between my thighs. As I come closer, she tucks those fingers inside panties that have become sodden, playing with her clit using those same two digits.
I go down on my knees in front of her, pulling her panties down so I can get a better look at what she’s doing, my chest expanding on a groan to find that her wetness abounds. She’s a horny, dripping little sexpot, for my eyes only, my cock only, and I can’t restrain myself from licking my personal property. Relishing in the freedom of having her as mine.
Solely mine.
“Put your pretty legs over Daddy’s shoulders,” I order her, licking her essence off my lips, moaning over her unparalleled taste. “Let’s open you up.”
Tits puffing up and down with excitement, she does what she’s told, the backs of her knees molding to my shoulders. Taking a moment to revel in the texture of fragrance of her smooth, little cunt, I roll my face in it, side to side, scooping her ass up higher in two hands, pinning her hips to the door and giving her head like I’m in a fucking pie eating contest.
“Oh. Oh. Ohhhh.” I figure eight my tongue over her clit, her legs jerking closer together, muffling my hearing, before rifling open again. Keyed into her needs more than I’ve ever been aware of anything, I continue that treatment, my thumbs tickling her entrance, stretching it open, stroking the delicate flesh there, all while I draw those eights atop that delicious swollen berry, her pussy enjoying itself so much that her body starts to shake the door on its hinges. Quick little tremors that rattle the door in its frame.
It's dead silent in the room adjacent to ours.
But is it?
Because Haylo is beginning to whimper and shift against my face, her fuck hole starting to shrink against the pads of my thumbs. Her orgasm is so close—and I need it, goddammit. Food, water, Haylo’s come. Those are my three necessities now.
“Daddy,” she whispers, arching off the door. Then louder, “D-Daddy.”
The television goes on in the next room. Volume high. Pacing footsteps.
I press down harder with my tongue, growling with possessiveness that riddles my bones and always will. She reacts like a cornered wildcat, twisting and clawing at me, the wall, her pussy blessing my lips, chin and tongue with that sugary moisture, her hips undulating as she struggles through the climax, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, titties quivering like they can feel the beautiful strain between her thighs, too.
There are two sides to me now.
To the world, I’m a gentleman. A trusty pilot. Admirable.
To Haylo, I’m her loving boyfriend, her caretaker and confidante. I’m also the aggressor she didn’t know she needed. That’s the role I embody now when I slide her limp body down onto the carpeted floor in front of the adjoining door and flip her over, yanking her up onto her hands and knees.
I wrap her hair around my left fist, pulling her head back slowly while I lean forward to analyze her incredible face. Seeing that her glazed eyes are locked on the sliver of light beneath the door. The stationary shadows within.
“Still confused about who is in charge, angel?”
“No,” she whispers.
I almost believe her. She’s right on the verge of leaving the past behind and seeing only me. Only us. But these issues of hers are the kind that run deep. They can’t be solved in a matter of days. They require a firm hand and a concerted effort, both of which I’m going to give her in spades.