The Fighter's Prize

My home was incomplete without her.

That is obvious from the moment we step in the door and rightness clicks into place in the center of my chest. Like a key turning in a lock.

I follow Whitney room to room as she explores, always the curious kitten.

I make note of the parts of my home that please her the most. The movie theater. The hot tub on my bedroom balcony, which I usually use to soothe sore muscles, but now I can only ponder fucking her in it. She doesn’t spend a lot of time in the kitchen, leading me to believe she does not cook much. And I must admit that pleases me. I would rather my chef, Gloria, do the cooking so Whitney has more time for me.

“We will go to your apartment tomorrow and gather your things,” I say, coming up behind her on the balcony and kissing the back of her neck. “This is your home now.”

Her swallow reaches my ears. “But…this is crazy, right? We only met last night.”

Immediately, my heart starts to sprint. “You said you were mine, kotik. You said you would give me babies.” I tug her ass into my lap, fitting my erection to her backside. “You came to me a virgin and called me your Daddy.”

She lets out a shaky breath, leans back against me. “I know. I meant those things. Of course I did. I’m just used to being independent.”

“No longer.”

A laugh puffs from her mouth. “You can’t just say that and make it so.”

Bolts of panic, frustration get stuck in my throat.

I will find a way to bring my Whitney her sister. That will please her and she will stop being conflicted about giving everything up to come live with me forever.

It relieves me to have a goal. A victory to work towards.

And I must get started on it immediately. I will not stand on shaky ground where Whitney is concerned. She is the most important part of my life now and I must keep her.

At all costs.

“Come, kotik.” I lift her into my arms and reenter the house. “Are you hungry?”

“No.” She yawns adorably and my heart flops over. “Just sleepy.”

Yes, she would be. I was very rough earlier when I fucked her.

Fucked her wet, eager little pussy and left my seed inside.

My breath grows short at the vivid memory, my cock hoisting higher in my shorts. I would give anything to fuck her again right now, in our bed, but I need to do the right thing and let her sleep. Also this way I can start tracking down the sister.

Gently, I set down Whitney on her feet at the foot of our bed and undress her. She has been stripped down to the tiny strings she calls underwear when she begins to nod off, her head lolling against my shoulder. With my heart in my throat, I lay Whitney down in our bed and she rolls onto her stomach, falling asleep immediately, her breathing even and deep.

I can’t stop my gaze from drifting down her back, to her two perfect buns, smooth mounds rising up among the white sheets.

Her knee rises slightly in sleep and the lips of her pussy become visible.

A shudder wracks me.

She is naked in my bed.

Where I sleep.

Surely I can’t be expected to withstand this level of need without satisfying it.

Breathing hard, I shove my shorts down to my knees and fist my cock. Her voice echoes inside my head, calling me Daddy while I conquered her pussy from behind. And I begin to stroke. My teeth bite into my lip hard and draw blood so I won’t groan and wake my sleeping kitten. She is so sexy, her pussy red from my savage treatment earlier, her ass cheeks two plump, little handfuls. Daddy, she calls me. Daddy. Daddy.

An image of her in a cotton candy pink dress bouncing on my lap fills my mind.

Her pigtails wrapped in my fists.

It’s unexpected how much this vision affects me, but it does. It cranks my arousal to the highest setting, my hand jacking up and down my steel faster, faster.

And I come all over her tight, young ass, growls of bliss trapped in my chest.

Wiping the sweat from my upper lip, I decide to leave my spend there. Right where it belongs. And I leave the room determined to fulfill my Whitney’s wishes.

It is a very long night for me.

Whitney lives up to her kitten nickname, rubbing and purring all over me. Nuzzling her face into my throat and tucking her little hands up beneath my T-shirt. I consider many, many times holding her down and shoving my cock as deep as she can take it, but the redness of her pussy stops me. Truth be told, as the minutes tick by and her sore coloring does not go away, and Whitney’s exhaustion remains obvious, I become appalled by my behavior.