The Way She Burns

“No one,” she agrees on a trembling exhale. “Just us.”

“Just us,” I grit out, thrusting my cock into her grip.

Pressing out foreheads together, she presses down onto my cock, that too-tight, too-slick pussy enveloping me slowly, slowly, all the way down until the lips of her cunt are stretched around my pulsing root and we’re both laboring to breathe. “W-what do I do now?” she frets, her thighs shaking around my hips.

I’m one good stroke away from coming, I swear to Christ. She’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. The dress is long gone, leaving her totally naked. Those tasty nipples are hard, expression brave but innocent, hair wild in the wind. Her pussy is tight as fuck, pulsating around me, so young and eager. I’m barely hanging on. But I bear down and hold back. Just a little longer. Make her come. “Rub that little pink berry on Daddy. Make it tingle.” Lip caught between her teeth, she does what she’s told, slowly grinding on me, moaning brokenly. “Doesn’t that feel good and right, little girl?”

“Yes!”

“No one can tell us different, can they?”

“No,” she sobs. “No.”

The more I feed the game, the hotter she’s burning. Her eyes are almost a vivid green now, sizzling with heat, just like the rest of her. She starts to ride me in a medium-paced gallop, tits bouncing for my enjoyment, her mouth wide open, but soon she loses her grip on control and starts to, quite simply, get down and dirty. And it’s fucking glorious. She whines and bucks and rakes her nails down my chest, calling me other names for Daddy. Papa. Father. Dada. An orgasm whips through her and she screams, but doesn’t stop riding me, her hips rifling up and back and driving me to a point of arousal I didn’t know existed. One so fierce I don’t even realize I’ve flipped Chloe back over and started an all-out assault.

“Tight little girl,” I growl through my teeth. “All for me. All mine to fill with come, aren’t you? Is that why you lured me out here with your baby talk and big eyes? You needed filling?”

“Yes,” she whimpers, her head tossing side to side.

Christ, her ankles are up in the vicinity of my ears, the sound of horny flesh slapping louder than the waves hitting the rocks below. I have to throw my head back and bellow, the pussy is so goddamn good. So wet and snug. I have to pin in down. Pin in down and take it violently, harder and harder until she’s wailing into the grass face down, her wrists crossed at the small of her back. When did that happen? When? I don’t know. I’m delirious with the need to come and finally, finally a relief of epic proportions rides roughshod through my system, draining my balls of boiling seed and raking me through with pleasure. So much pleasure, I can barely stand it, my hoarse pants releasing into the top of her hair, hips still slamming, slamming, my movements eventually growing sluggish. “Jesus,” I groan, planting kisses along her shoulders, her neck, the top of her spine. “Jesus Christ.”

I pitch sideways and take her with me, down into the grass, gathering her close. I can’t get her close enough, no matter what I do. But I try. I enfold Chloe tightly in my arms and rock her, saying words into her ear I’ve never said to another soul. That I need her. That I’m fucking lost without her. That I’ll never let anything or anyone hurt her again. Somehow I’m still holding back those three most important words, though. They’re roped to my chest because I’m not sure yet if she’ll try to leave me, and if she does, she’ll rip me wide open. So I hold that final part of me back, even though it doesn’t feel right. Feels fucking wrong. She should know I love her.

My thoughts narrow down to her beauty when she turns and smiles up at me, drowsy and dewy in the last rays of the sunset.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask her, desperate to know.

She wets her lips. “I’ve always been afraid what would happen if I let out what’s inside of me. Every ounce of it. But I just did, with you…and the world didn’t end. Maybe I’ve just been scaring myself. Or letting my mother’s superstitions win.”

“Of course the world didn’t end,” I say, kissing her forehead. “For us, it’s only starting.”

Her eyes meet mine, so vulnerable and hopeful that my dick gets hard as nails again. My whole body does. Because I’m the man who reassures her. And I do it in more ways than one. All ways. Every time. She’s made me her Daddy, and hell, I’ve accepted with every fiber of my being. It’s a role I never expected. One I can’t live without now that it’s mine.