Gentleman Sinner

I don’t remove my wonder-filled eyes from Lola’s angelic face, navigating my way to the nursery without needing to look up. Gently laying her down, I tuck her in tightly and spend a few moments watching her sleeping, once again silently trying to come to terms with the fact that she is mine. ‘Goodnight, princess,’ I whisper, dipping low to kiss her baby skin.

Making my way back to the lounge, I head for Izzy. She must hear my footsteps, because her head turns on her dainty neck to find me, her take-me-to-bed eyes hitting me with force. My cock lunges behind my jeans, virtually stripping me of breath. I say nothing and scoop her up from the couch. Her arms go around my neck and cling on as I pace towards our bedroom and lay her gently on the bed. ‘Time for you to unwind,’ I declare, pulling my T-shirt up over my head and tossing it aside. Her eyes drink me in, her exhaustion disappearing and being replaced with a longing I appreciate every day. My body’s reaction to her is as strong now as it was the moment I found her. Blood rushes to my cock and pounds its presence, and I groan in response, slipping my thumbs into the waistband of my jeans and drawing them slowly down. Her panting breaths become shallower with every inch of myself I reveal, until her eyes are glossy with lust. ‘Take your clothes off, Izzy,’ I order, stepping out of my jeans and kicking them to the side.

Her eyes drag over my torso, up to my eyes, a sliver of her wet tongue gliding across her bottom lip. Pushing herself to her knees, she holds my eyes while she slowly, purposely slowly, unbuttons the front of her blouse. The physical battle I’m having to stop myself from lurching forward and ripping it open is painful. There’s no bra underneath. That gets discarded the moment she’s through the door, and though the reason for her relieving herself of the material that keeps her swollen breasts secure during the day is pure relief, for me, it’s like a red flag to a bull. It enhances the torture of having to wait for this time at the end of our day for us to reunite. It’s plain . . . fucking . . . agony, made just about bearable by the knowledge and reason that my daughter needs Izzy more than I do. Only just, but she does.

Waiting with bated breath for Izzy to put me out of my misery, I gulp down some restraint, and she smiles, knowing the willpower it’s taking me. Then she slides her blouse off one shoulder, giving me a painful peek of one swollen breast. Beads of sweat form on my brow, my hands twitching at my sides. ‘Stop messing with me, Izzy,’ I warn, stepping forward. Her lips curve and she drops the shoulder on the other side. I let out an audible moan, talking some reason into my desperate bones. I mustn’t grab them. Gently does it with the boobs.

‘Tell me,’ she whispers, ridding her arms of the shirt and slowly pushing her jeans down her legs. Tossing them across the room, she reclines to her back and opens her legs, pushing her fingers into the tops of her knickers. ‘Are you going to fuck me like a whore?’

I smirk, reaching forward and grabbing her knickers, yanking them down her legs. She squeals and squirms, laughing, as I wrench her knees apart to make room for me. I settle between her legs, holding her arms above her head, but I’m sure not to rest too much of my weight on her tender breasts, though I make damn sure my cock is pushing into her core. Her breath hitches at the contact, so I circle before lifting my hips and letting my solid dick fall to her opening. The slickness of her combined with the dripping head of my erection has her shouting despairingly. ‘How the tables have turned,’ I whisper, leaning down and biting her lip, pulling the swollen flesh through my teeth.

‘Let go of my hands,’ she begs, fighting against my hold.

‘No.’ I swivel and drive deeply into her, our connection sending my world into a spin.

‘Theo!’ Her hips thrust upward, meeting mine, sending me oh so fucking deep. ‘Release me.’

I smile through my paralysis and force my hands to surrender her wrists, giving her what she wants.

And, most significantly, what I need.

Her touch.

Slipping over my skin, grabbing viciously, and forcing my body closer to hers. The feel of her all over me is out of this world.

The hands of the woman who touched me and refused to let go.

The hands of the woman who cured me.