Page 6
Story: Wild Daddy
Her chin lifts, a spark of defiance in those brown eyes. "What if that’s exactly what I want?"
The breathy response catches me off guard, and sends blood rushing south. She must feel the way my cock responds, pressing her hip like a dog on a scent.
"Naughty girl," I say, my thumb tracing her lower lip. "I like that. But you’re mine now, and I don't share. You won't be kissing anyone else, following anyone else into coat rooms, or putting yourself at risk like that again. Understood? No other man will treat you the way I’ll treat you. The way you deserve."
"How do I deserve to be treated?" The question is barely a whisper.
"Like you're precious. Beautiful. Perfect. Protected. And like you're mine." I lean down until our lips are almost touching. “You’re a daddy’s girl, aren’t you?”
She whimpers, a tremor shaking her from head to toe. As I pull back to stare into her face, I find her pupils dilated, her lips parted just a little.
I take her mouth like I fucking own it. There’s a blip of tension when I touch her. A second where her body stiffens, breathing stops.
“Baby.” I hiss between her lips. “I’ll give you only what you need.”
“I—I’m not good at being touched. Earlier, the champagne helped but it’s hard for me. I don’t even let my parents hug me.” She stops as I withdraw far enough to take in every word with my ears and my eyes. “Not that they ever tried now that I think about it…”
There’s the slightest quiver in her chin as I pinch it, pressing my lips to the top of her head, letting her body soften as I stand steady, not pushing, not retreating, just being there against her.
“You thinking you like this kind of touch now?” I run my fingers through her hair, plucking out the pins that are holding what’s left in the contrived updo then untangle it with my fingers keeping my eyes on her face.
“That’s not bad.” She clears her throat. “Maybe I need to try a little more to be sure.”
Brat.
“What I have for you isn’t little baby.” I snarl, grabbing her by the ass and lifting, spinning her around and shoving her onto the little shelf that runs along the back wall, knocking someone’s Detroit Tiger’s cap onto the floor. I shove my body between her legs, the crinkling fabric rising above her knees as her calves’ drift around my waist hugging me. "That's it, little girl," I lean in and murmur against her lips. "Take what you need."
She's making these soft little sounds that are driving me crazy. I work my way down her throat, finding every sensitive spot while my hands map the curves hidden beneath the layers of fabric covering her. All the years of disinterest in touching a woman roll over me like a bulldozer. She’s got to be young enough to be my fucking daughter too. But, Jesus, there’s something about this girl that has me breaking down all the fences I’ve built around myself and inviting her in
"I have no idea know what I'm doing," she confesses, her fingers taking my hair by the root like she’s holding on for dear life.
"You know what to do, you just haven’t done it before." I catch her earlobe between my teeth, smiling when she yelps. "Your body knows exactly what it wants."
I slip my hand between her thighs, grabbing a handful of the dress with her heat underneath, and she arches against me with a broken moan. Even through the fabric, I know she’s fucking wet and I want to shove my face in her cunt and never come up for air.
"Please," she whispers and I finally understand why guys get hard from begging.
“Say please again.” I order, digging my fingers into the heat under the dress leaning back to get a better look at the way her tits are straining against the neckline of the dress.
“Pretty please,” she says, swallowing hard and I nearly blow when she mouths the words a second time silently.
Pretty. Please.
Fuck.
I shove the silk out of my way and get my hand where it belongs. She's soaked. The sound she makes when I touch her warm, damp little cunt comes down straight from heaven.
"Look at me," I command, and her eyes fly open, dark and dazed. "I want to see your face when you come."
“When I come? I’ve never—” She shakes her head, dark waves dancing on her cheeks. “I’ve never even come close.”
“Never? No one? Not even for yourself?” The idea creates a storm inside me.
This girl’s pleasure is going to belong to me. Her first, her last and the millions in between.
“I’m not like the other girls.” She says on a smirk.
“That’s for fucking sure.”
The breathy response catches me off guard, and sends blood rushing south. She must feel the way my cock responds, pressing her hip like a dog on a scent.
"Naughty girl," I say, my thumb tracing her lower lip. "I like that. But you’re mine now, and I don't share. You won't be kissing anyone else, following anyone else into coat rooms, or putting yourself at risk like that again. Understood? No other man will treat you the way I’ll treat you. The way you deserve."
"How do I deserve to be treated?" The question is barely a whisper.
"Like you're precious. Beautiful. Perfect. Protected. And like you're mine." I lean down until our lips are almost touching. “You’re a daddy’s girl, aren’t you?”
She whimpers, a tremor shaking her from head to toe. As I pull back to stare into her face, I find her pupils dilated, her lips parted just a little.
I take her mouth like I fucking own it. There’s a blip of tension when I touch her. A second where her body stiffens, breathing stops.
“Baby.” I hiss between her lips. “I’ll give you only what you need.”
“I—I’m not good at being touched. Earlier, the champagne helped but it’s hard for me. I don’t even let my parents hug me.” She stops as I withdraw far enough to take in every word with my ears and my eyes. “Not that they ever tried now that I think about it…”
There’s the slightest quiver in her chin as I pinch it, pressing my lips to the top of her head, letting her body soften as I stand steady, not pushing, not retreating, just being there against her.
“You thinking you like this kind of touch now?” I run my fingers through her hair, plucking out the pins that are holding what’s left in the contrived updo then untangle it with my fingers keeping my eyes on her face.
“That’s not bad.” She clears her throat. “Maybe I need to try a little more to be sure.”
Brat.
“What I have for you isn’t little baby.” I snarl, grabbing her by the ass and lifting, spinning her around and shoving her onto the little shelf that runs along the back wall, knocking someone’s Detroit Tiger’s cap onto the floor. I shove my body between her legs, the crinkling fabric rising above her knees as her calves’ drift around my waist hugging me. "That's it, little girl," I lean in and murmur against her lips. "Take what you need."
She's making these soft little sounds that are driving me crazy. I work my way down her throat, finding every sensitive spot while my hands map the curves hidden beneath the layers of fabric covering her. All the years of disinterest in touching a woman roll over me like a bulldozer. She’s got to be young enough to be my fucking daughter too. But, Jesus, there’s something about this girl that has me breaking down all the fences I’ve built around myself and inviting her in
"I have no idea know what I'm doing," she confesses, her fingers taking my hair by the root like she’s holding on for dear life.
"You know what to do, you just haven’t done it before." I catch her earlobe between my teeth, smiling when she yelps. "Your body knows exactly what it wants."
I slip my hand between her thighs, grabbing a handful of the dress with her heat underneath, and she arches against me with a broken moan. Even through the fabric, I know she’s fucking wet and I want to shove my face in her cunt and never come up for air.
"Please," she whispers and I finally understand why guys get hard from begging.
“Say please again.” I order, digging my fingers into the heat under the dress leaning back to get a better look at the way her tits are straining against the neckline of the dress.
“Pretty please,” she says, swallowing hard and I nearly blow when she mouths the words a second time silently.
Pretty. Please.
Fuck.
I shove the silk out of my way and get my hand where it belongs. She's soaked. The sound she makes when I touch her warm, damp little cunt comes down straight from heaven.
"Look at me," I command, and her eyes fly open, dark and dazed. "I want to see your face when you come."
“When I come? I’ve never—” She shakes her head, dark waves dancing on her cheeks. “I’ve never even come close.”
“Never? No one? Not even for yourself?” The idea creates a storm inside me.
This girl’s pleasure is going to belong to me. Her first, her last and the millions in between.
“I’m not like the other girls.” She says on a smirk.
“That’s for fucking sure.”
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