Page 41 of More, Daddy (Bluebell Bruisers #3)

She’s taught me loyalty.

I jerked her around and played with her so much at the start. Bending her over the training table, then forcing her out in silence. Breeding her and obsessing over her, then calling her over with a Plan B and making her leave.

She stayed.

She kept showing up.

She never stopped proving her love.

She’s taught me loyalty, and now, because of this… I slip the nearly empty blister pack back into her purse, and move through the house, toward the hall. My home has life in it now, because of Briar, and our love.

But once she realizes what I’ve done… everything I’ve been fighting to keep, I’m going to lose it. All over my temper and my pain.

At the bedroom door, with socked feet, jeans, and my white undershirt, hair a messy heap from being tucked into a Cattleman all day, I take a deep breath .

She once told me that she believed we could love our way out of her little lie.

Maybe she will feel the same about what I’ve done?

I push the door open, and see her curled into a ball in the center of the bed– our bed –in nothing but white panties and a white tank top. Her blonde hair spills over the pillows, and the TV flickers silently against her bare feet, playing some rerun she put on for comfort.

Lifting her pink blanket—she always cuddles up with it—I slide under, and curve my body against the back of hers, smoothing one palm down her naked hip and bare thigh.

Briar groans as she stirs, but doesn’t fully wake.

I press my lips to the side of her throat, and refuse to think about what I’ve done.

Not yet.

“Mm,” I murmur, loving the sweet taste of her skin after a long day at school.

A little tangy from sweat, traces of vanilla and berries because that’s her—it’s beyond arousing.

I reach down, freeing myself from the prison of my jeans, finding my boxers have taken the brunt of my all-day on-and-off arousal, thanks to our continual text messaging.

My hard, sticky cock rests against the top of her ass as I slip two fingers beneath the elastic.

Slowly, I smooth my fingers around her panties until I’m pulling them aside, pressing my chest to her back, guiding my cock into her wet little slit.

She moans, yawns into the pillow, then twists, giving me her profile. Sleep still in her eyes, lips swollen, cheeks pink, she murmurs, “Daddy, is that you?”

Fuck. The fact that she wakes in that mindset has my eyes snapping shut, my fingers sinking into her hips. Urgently, lacking finesse or foreplay, I thrust into her, feathering a feral groan over her shoulder as I bask in her tight warmth.

“You feel so good to Daddy right now. I need you so much.” I smooth my hand over her shoulder, down into her tiny tank top, filling my palm with soft breast. She moans when I pinch her nipple, then drag my tongue along the back of her ear.

“Daddy’s been thinking about his girl all day. Nothing makes me feel as good as you do, baby, did you know that?” I roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger as she pushes her ass into me, searching for more inches, more connection.

“Daddy,” she whines, and I have to pinch her other nipple to sate her slightly, fucking her harder now, the bed squealing.

“I know, baby, Daddy’s gonna take away that big ache you have between your legs. You feel it, don’t you? That ache?” I breathe out, the sultry, naughty words lengthening my spine, making my cock grow impossibly harder inside of her.

She nods, and she whimpers, and I would burn the entire world down to be able to hear that sexy whimper whenever I wanted to. I’d pay with my soul to bottle her whimper and pour it down my throat whenever I needed a hit of her.

“Your body is aching for Daddy’s cum, that’s what you’re feeling sweetheart.

” My balls tighten as my own words shove me nearer to the edge, to the brink of white-hot eruption.

“You want Daddy to make you a mommy; you need Daddy to breed your little cunt, put a baby in your belly, then you’ll feel all better, baby. Trust Daddy.”

She nods, whining, whimpering, writhing, begging for my cum now. “Yes, Daddy, please, please give me your cum. Make me your girl, Daddy, I wanna have your baby, please.”

The bed squeaks, and I glance down at our entwined legs, my many inches encroaching on her from behind, and spot her toes curling. Her cries echo in the room, the sound of my cock driving into her and my groin slapping her ass, severing my ability to hold off.

“Your little pussy is making Daddy come,” I warn her, though as she spasms around me, coming hard, whining and moaning unintelligible nonsense, I can’t quite make it.

“Fuck!” I groan as my release detonates, my cock pulsing and throbbing inside of her.

She melts against me, coaxing me for more as her body absorbs everything I give her.

“More, Daddy. Please, I need more. Give me enough for a baby, Daddy. Please .”

When I’ve grown soft and slipped out of her, Briar flips around in our bed, ducking beneath the covers, slipping me into her mouth.

I stroke my fingers through her hair, and peer down beneath the blankets at the sight of her cleaning up my cock, streaked with our cum.

“Clean Daddy up good, alright?” I whisper down to her, nearly getting hard again at the sight of her. She licks up my shaft, sucking my balls into her mouth one at a time, lapping at my slit, tracing my crown with the tip of her tongue.

I watch her, chest full of adoration and love. She’s been letting me take her cunt bare, ride her without protection, fill her up without concern. She thinks her pill has been keeping her safe.

Reaching down, I slip my hands beneath her arms and pull her up to rest next to me, kissing the wetness from her swollen lips. She smiles at me, so gorgeous and innocent in her white tank, tiny on the huge bed next to me.

The nagging feeling that I’ve taken my revenge too far, that I’m going to lose her—it crashes into me, roping and stealing the breath from my lungs. I can’t come clean right now. Instead, I stroke my hand down her cheek, and think of what Leah said .

“You know, months ago, when we were talking on Veiled , I told you a little bit about my ex-wife,” I say slowly, speaking past the nerves.

Briar pulls herself up on the pillow, propping her head up on an elbow. “A little. We mostly just talked about how she was surprised when you shared your needs with her, that she claimed you… what? Baited and switched? Then she just couldn’t get into it.”

I nod, tucking flaxen strands of hair behind Briar’s ear as the sun outside melts to something more mellow.

“She promised she’d try to understand it.

And honestly, Briar, if she didn’t understand it, I could understand that.

I was willing, like I said, to walk away from that side of myself forever, potentially. ”

She licks her lips, mindlessly playing with my hands, trapped between us beneath the covers. I love when her knuckles graze my belly unintentionally. “You never told me what happened, I mean, not in any detail.”

I nod, and find myself kissing Briar, needing a moment of swallowing her sweet noises, soaking in her gentle touches, and her approval of me. She smiles when she peers up at me, not asking why I stopped my story to kiss her, or why kissing her makes me so happy.

“It wasn’t just that she didn’t… she couldn’t understand what I needed.

That would’ve been hard, but okay, ultimately.

” I smile down at her, and tell the story I’ve only told one other time.

“I came home from work early one night, brought roses, just wanted to tell her thank you for even listening, and considering, you know? Turns out, she got home early, too. She had some of her girlfriends over. They’d been drinking.

She didn’t know I was home. And… I overheard her calling it gross.

Calling me gross. Accusing me of being secretly incestuous—” I stop there, because Briar’s mouth is on mine, her hand s smoothing down my face, thumbs playing at my lips, words of adoration pouring from her lips to my heart.

“You’re perfect. We’re perfect,” she assures softly. “She just didn’t get it.”

I nod my head. “I know. I know she didn’t.

But the betrayal of hearing her pour those innermost thoughts out in front of strangers…

I mean, they were her best friends, sure, but it was my thing.

My big secret. And she just… gave it to them, and then hurt me with it.

It was… denigrating and devaluing and… it was the ultimate pain. ”

She sits up, crossing her legs, still playing with my hands. Bringing them to her lips, she kisses my palms, under and on top, and kisses my knuckles, too, before pressing them to her cheek. “That’s cruel, and small-minded, and I’m sorry that happened to you.”

I swallow thickly against the sudden rock of nerves and fear in my chest. “I told myself when that happened that I would never be lied to again. I’d never be someone’s joke. So when I realized your deceptions, it hurt. It made me question myself. Do you know what I mean?”

She nods her understanding, but I continue. “It’s why when I found out that you’d lied about who you were, well, it hurt.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” she whines, sadness making her pupils wide and dark. “I’ll spend forever apologizing if you let me, West.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to punish you forever.

I know why you made the choices you made.

” My heart rate skyrockets as the admission fills my mouth, the vile words loaded on my tongue, bumping painfully against the roof of my mouth.

They don’t belong, they don’t fit, and I want to purge them from me, to shove them in the space between us so we can start the process of acceptance and forgiveness .

This isn’t like her lie, though.

“You can punish me, though,” she says, suggestively dancing her brows.

I mirror her position, sitting up in bed. Our knees press together. “I wanted to punish you, though, Briar. I don’t now, because time has eased the pain and… I believe what you’ve told me. I don’t think you meant to hurt me or deceive me.”

She lets me speak, and I don’t know if it’s because she senses something heavy coming or not, but her lips form a thin line, and her blues settle on me. But I don’t get the chance.

Someone knocks on my front door. Our gazes idle, a rumple of confusion in my forehead. “Dean, maybe? To talk about Tanner? I don’t know.” I slide out of bed and tug on my t-shirt, then hold one finger out to her. “Hang on.”

More loud thudding as I pad down the hall, toward the front door. When I pull it open, I find Austin Reeves on my porch, chest puffed, angry eyes set on me.

“Where is she?” he asks, sounding like a protective father. I almost want to laugh.

I clear my throat, stroking a hand through my hair, glad that I put a shirt on.

“Who?” I know who he’s asking about. And he knows I know who he’s asking about.

But fuck this kid, breathing and touching all over what’s mine.

I don’t care if he knows it or not. When he leaves this porch here today, he’ll more than know.

He peers around me. “Briar.”

I turn to see her wearing my pajama pants, arms wrapped around herself in comfort, blonde hair now up in a messy bun. She looks past me, directly at Austin.

“Austin.”

He glares at me, then looks back at her. And suddenly, with the woman I’m obsessed with, head over heels, madly in love with, I feel like I’m intruding on their moment, that I’m the odd man out. I hate how it feels, and I hate more than anything that he’s known her longer, had access to her longer.

“You rode your bike here after school… but I didn’t…I didn’t know you lived here, Dupont.”

The Mr. has been shaved off, a casualty of Austin’s moral compass. I am no longer worthy of a title in his eyes.

He continues. “I waited until someone came home, so I could figure out, you know, whose house this is…” he looks at me, speaking to Briar. “Why you’re here .”

His focus is only on her when he asks, “Are you sleeping with Dupont? Is he why you can’t be my friend anymore?”

She doesn’t answer, so I reply for her. “She is mine, yes.”

Austin laughs, even going so far as to press a hand to his stomach, as if his laughter knows no bounds. “Yours?” he says, rubbing a tear from his eye. “She’s a person. She isn’t yours. ”

I step onto the porch, and my movement makes Austin step back, moving down one of the old wooden stairs.

Both of us still enveloped in the shade of my old house eave, I reach out, and cup his shoulder.

Between our normal height difference, adding in the porch step, I tower over Austin as I grip him.

“Briar is mine. I own her. I own her lips, I own those perky fucking tits that you probably think about when you’re alone in the shower at your mom’s house every night.

I own her sweet, plump little ass, and that cunt, that hot, drippy, horny, swollen, desperate slut cunt of hers?

Fucking mine ,” I say, throwing my thumb between my pecs, enunciating every syllable to eliminate any possibility of confusion.

“Get right with that this second, or I’ll help you get right with it. ”

I take another step down, but Austin doesn’t move, so we come as close to eye to eye as we can, considering he’s not nearly as tall as I am.

I move my hand from his shoulder, to cup the side of his cheek, then, I smile.

“Don’t put me to the test.” I pat his chest gently, then leave him there, on my porch, swallowed up by the shadows of my house.

I close the door, and turn to find Briar with her hands on her hips.

She looks pissed, but she’s here, and that I can work with.