“Mr. Jones.” I’m too breathy, too needy. “You shouldn’t be touching me like this. It’s not appropriate.”
“Mmmm. You’re right.” He backs me toward his bed and nudges me onto it. Mr. Jones palms himself through his sweats as he stares at me. “Everyone thinks you’re a good girl, don’t they, Neveah? Good student. Good girlfriend. I bet you even volunteer at a soup kitchen or some shit.”
I blush because that’s exactly what I do a few weekends a month. “That’s not a bad thing.”
“No, baby girl, that’s not a bad thing.” His gaze goes soft and then hot. “Bet you spend a lot of time giving a fuck about what people think of you. Good girls don’t… Bet you think that a lot.”
I worry my bottom lip. “Good girls don’t cheat on their boyfriends.”
“No. They don’t.” He catches the backs of my knees and tugs me to the edge of the mattress, standing over me. He looks massive like this. Like he could hold me down and do absolutely anything he wanted to me, and there’s not a single thing I could do about it. The thought sends a dark thrill through me. Mr. Jones smooths his hands up my inner thighs, parting my legs as he does. “But you don’t have to be a good girl with me. Not here. Not now.”
The thought is more intoxicating than any alcohol I’ve ever had. All my life, I have done the smart thing, the good thing, the obedient thing. I never missed curfew, never drank or did drugs until it was legal for me to do so. I always, always kept my goals in mind and never let the reckless thing inside me loose.
I shiver. “And what do you get out of it? If I get to let loose, what are you getting?”
His grin is all wolf. “I get your sweet little pussy, Neveah. I get to make you whimper and cry and cum. I get you wet and tight and clamping around my cock.”
His filthy words thrill me. Without thinking, I cup my breasts, tugging at my swimsuit top. Desire has my mouth getting away from me. “And the fact that I’m dating—fucking—your son has nothing to do with it.”
“I’m a bastard, baby girl. I make no apologies for it. I’ve given my son everything he could ever ask for, and if he’s too much of a spoiled little shit to realize what a catch his girlfriend is, then that’s his problem.”
I arch my brows. “And it’s not because you want to compete with him. Prove you’re better.” Bold words. Words I never would have spoken before this moment.
Mr. Jones tugs on the ties of my swimsuit bottoms, his gaze going molten. “If he’s not going to take care of this sweet little pussy, then I will.”
I lift my hips so he can pull the swimsuit away from my body. “We shouldn’t.” Even as I say it, I spread my legs wider. Inviting him.
“You’re right.” He goes slowly to his knees beside the bed. I watch, holding my breath as he dips down and inhales me. “It’s not too late to stop.” His gaze flicks to mine. “A good girl would tell me to stop. She wouldn’t let me put my mouth on her. Not like this.”
I reach down slowly and sift my fingers through his hair, lifting my hips as I tug him down. “Good thing I’m not a good girl. Not with you.”
He holds my eyes as he drags his tongue up my center. Mr. Jones…growls against my pussy, and then it’s like his leash snaps. He grips my thighs wide and devours me in great, searching licks. As if he wants to taste every inch of me, from clit to ass. The first time his tongue probes that part of me, I jolt but then moan. Yes, this is exactly what I need. I roll my hips, riding his mouth as he settles in against my clit. “Yes, like that. Oh fuck, that feels so good.”
He sucks on my clit and then eases back just a little. “Look up, baby girl.”
I obey slowly, belatedly realizing there’s a mirror behind him. I fight to sit up a little, to see, and…holy fuck. “I want you to fuck me in front of that mirror,” I gasp. The words just pour out.
“Later.”
He starts to dip his head, but I tug on his hair. Hard. “Now.”
“No.” He bands an arm over my lower stomach and keeps eating me out. My attention tracks to the mirror and, Jesus, the way we look. His big body between my spread thighs, his head moving as he licks me, my breasts heaving and damn near escaping my top. It’s so hot… but I want more.
I tug on his hair again, words spilling forth. “Please, Daddy, I want to pretend I’m in my own dirty porno with you.”