Page 21 of Filthy Mouth (Obsessive Age Gap #2)

I slid out slowly, groaning as her swollen rim stretched and then reluctantly gave me up. A rush of my thick come leaked out of her abused hole, streaking down her thighs.

“ Don ’ t move,” I ordered, gripping her hips tight. “ Keep that filthy little arse spread for me.”

She whimpered when I pressed her cheeks apart, watching my mess spill out of her gaping hole. Holy fuck, I ’ d never seen anything so perfect.

“ Open your mouth,” I growled. She obeyed, eyes glazed, lips trembling. I scooped two fingers through the creamy slick running down her cunt and pushed them between her lips.

“ Eat it,” I demanded.

She sucked my fingers hungrily, moaning, swallowing every filthy drop I fed her. Her tongue curled around me, eager for more.

“ Good slut,” I murmured, stroking her hair while I gathered more from her leaking hole. “ We ’ ll get there, Princess. One load at a time.”

Her eyes fluttered shut as she sucked my fingers harder, grazing her teeth over them like she couldn ’ t get enough of the filth I was feeding her.

I pulled my fingers out before flipping her onto her back and dragging her down until her head hung off the edge of the bed. I jumped off the bed to stand over her. I gripped her jaw, tilting her face up to me. My cock hovered slick and messy above her parted lips.

“ That ’ s my good Princess,” I rasped, smearing myself across her mouth before sliding between her lips. “ Open wide for Daddy. Take every filthy inch you begged me to fill you with.”

Her throat bulged as I fed it to her, slow and thick, my hand stroking her damp hair as she gagged and swallowed. I watched her eyes water, pride flooding me at how beautifully she took it.

“ Perfect little slut,” I praised, rocking my hips deeper. “ Look at you—cleaning Daddy ’ s cock like you were born for it.”

I held still, cock heavy down her throat, her lips stretched around the base. My balls brushed her chin, slick with the mess we ’ d made. I pulled out just enough to let her breathe before guiding her face closer.

“ Good girl. Don ’ t forget these,” I murmured, pressing my sack against her lips. “ Lick Daddy ’ s balls clean. Nice and slow.”

Her tongue traced over me, wet and eager, before she sucked one ball into her mouth. I groaned, fisting her hair tighter, forcing her to worship me properly. My cock slapped heavy against her cheek as she worked, smearing spit and the mess we ’ d made across her skin.

“ That ’ s it, Princess. Lick and suck me clean. Show me that filthy mouth was made to keep Daddy satisfied,” I rasped, grinding myself against her face until she whimpered.

I waited until my balls were coated in her saliva before I moved back and lifted her head.

I crouched down and claimed her swollen, wet lips, tasting her, us, and every bit of filth that clung between us.

I licked around her lips and teeth before returning to her probing tongue, flicking against her, tangling together.

“ Filthy fucking Princess,” I muttered against her mouth, nipping her bottom lip before sucking it into mine. She clung to me like I was her only air, kissing me back with a hunger that set my cock throbbing again.

I finally tore my mouth from hers, both of us breathless, slick and messy. She looked wrecked, lips swollen, eyes glazed, but still my beautiful little champion.

I helped her ease down onto the bed, brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead. Then I padded to the bathroom, ran the towel under steaming water, and wrung it out.

When I returned, she was sprawled out in a star shape, arms and legs flung wide like I ’ d broken her apart.

I grinned, kneeling beside her, and set to work.

Slow, deliberate strokes over her face, her chin, her chest, between her thighs—every tender wipe a reminder that she belonged to me. My girl. My mess. My masterpiece.

She let out a groan. “ I ’ m never going to be the same again, am I? All this because I wanted to know if you had grey pubes or not.”

“ You cheeky cow,” I muttered, ignoring her giggle.

I parted her thighs to wipe her pussy before reaching her puckered hole, cleaning the remnants of come and lube.

“ Thank you, Daddy,” she said softly.

My eyes flicked up to see her leaning on her elbows, watching me.

I pressed a kiss to her messy little cunt, eyes locked on hers.

“ You ’ re most welcome, Princess.”

I was fucking doomed. Poppy was wife number three without a shadow of a doubt. Deep down, I ’ d always known.

Fuck. I needed to call Magnus.

“ You relax, Princess. I ’ ll be right back,” I said, grabbing my phone off the nightstand.

I didn ’ t wait for her response. I left the bedroom, strode into my dressing room, and jabbed at his number.

Pacing tight, heart hammering, I nearly wore a hole in the rug before he finally answered.

“ Magnus.”

“…Benedict. You sound like death warmed over. What the fuck have you done now?”

“ I ’ m fucked.”

“ You usually are. Be more specific.”

“ No, you don ’ t get it. I ’ m actually fucked. She ’ s—oh, fuck. She ’ s wife number three,” I exhaled.

“ You ’ re marrying a fake prostitute?” he chuckled. “ She sounds like a better choice than Rachelle and Cassie.”

“ Her mouth,” I groaned. “ Oh, God, the things she does with that damn mouth.”

“ Mate, I don ’ t need to know this.”

“ You don ’ t understand. I don ’ t want to become pussy-whipped like you,” I whined, remembering the way he nearly cried at his vows.

Silence.

“ Hello?”

Silence.

The bastard had hung up on me.

And to be fair…I deserved it—this time.

My phone buzzed and I read his message.

Magnus: Don't be a dickhead. She is a Winborne. Marry her .

I stood naked in my dressing room, staring at the words, thinking of the woman in my bedroom and trying not to compare her to my past.

Could I live without Poppy by my side? Could I give her up knowing what I knew? We were like a blazing fire together. I looked past my fear and knew the answer.

Poppy Sarah Blythe was mine to woo and keep. I had six months, and the clock was ticking.