Wanting Mr. Cane (Cane 1)

I kept wondering what it would have been like to replace my fingers with my cock. Would I be too big for her? Would she whimper? Get teary-eyed as I stretched her? I knew she was a virgin. By how tight she was, there was no way in hell she'd been broken in yet, and that thought alone pleased me much more than it should have.

When did she become so goddamn sexy? She was eighteen years old and I knew she was too damn young for me, but I kissed her, touched her, and fingered her tight, slick, virgin pussy anyway. She was so damn wet, and her touch alone set my blood on fire. She'd hardly touched me when it all started, and I was already rock solid.

I couldn't lie and say I didn't find her attractive. She was a beautiful girl, and she was developing in plentiful ways. I noticed so much more after touching her. How her hips had filled out and how perky her tits were. She was gorgeous and any guy her age would have killed to have her.

I knew she had a crush on me. I could always tell. Her teasing, the jokes, and the way she tried to get a reaction out of me by doing and saying any little thing to annoy me, was proof of it. And the way she'd look at me with those big, maple-brown eyes, like the only man she wanted was me—fuck. I knew she wanted me. I knew it, but never thought too much of it. I ignored it because, before tonight, it was irrelevant.

I'd given her what she wanted, but at what cost? This was going to change everything between us. She wasn't going to be a kid to me anymore. She was going to be Kandy Jennings, the virgin who craved my cock.

I had to pull my shit together. I couldn't keep thinking about Derek's daughter like this. I stripped out of my clothes and hopped in the shower. After washing clean (as if getting clean would rid me of the wicked, dirty shit I'd just done to Kandy), I put on a pair of boxers and tried to get some work done at the desk in the corner of my bedroom.

It was damn near impossible.

I couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened.

About her.

She was downstairs, most likely thinking about it, too. Knowing she was so close—that I could easily just go down there and bury my head between her legs, just to see if she tasted as sweet as she smelled—left me hard all over again.

I couldn't sit around being this hard, knowing the only result would be a sad case of blue balls. I needed to fuck something...so I went with the only option I had.

My fist.

I picked up the lotion on my dresser and sat in the chair again, rolling my briefs down and then squirting some of it in my hand. Wrapping my lubed palm around my cock, I blew out a hard sigh, tossing my head back and squeezing my eyes shut.

My muscles flexed as I pumped, slowly at first, breathing deep as I remembered her soft moans, the silkiness of her pussy around my fingers. How she told me she wanted me.

Her sweet, warm, wet pussy.

Her slender body bucking, going wild with just my fingers inside it. The way tendrils of hair fell over her face, and her mouth gaped with each gradual thrust I provided.

I couldn't stop staring at her.

Watching her come undone.

Watching her come for me. I bet it was her first orgasm. Powerful. Delicious.

My body didn't give me much of a warning. My cock had a mind of its own that night. I pumped faster, feeding the hunger, grunting when I realized how close I was—how fucking hard I was.

"Oh, shit," I grunted, using my other hand to massage my balls. They were tight, my dick so thick and swollen in my hand, ready for release. With only three more smooth, quick pumps, I came.

Most of my muscles locked and before I knew it, my whole hand was soaked with white ropes of cum. I slowly rolled my thumb over the tip and then down to my shaft, relieved...for now.

I opened my eyes and looked down at the mess I'd created. Pearly streaks were all over my lap, a few droplets in the patch of dark hair surrounding my pelvis.

There was so much cum—too much cum—and all of it was meant for her. All for little Kandy Jennings.

12

KANDY

I woke up before Cane did the next morning...at least, I think so.

I didn't get much sleep. I tossed and turned and sent text messages to Mom for updates, but she didn't have much information to give. She said he was in critical condition and was still in surgery. The good thing, though, was that he was still breathing. For now, at least.