Coaxing the Roughneck
If I thought I was shaking before, it’s nothing compared to now. My teeth are chattering and I ache so badly, so badly with this arousal that he’s inflicting on me. Oh my God. Daddy. Daddy? Is that what he called himself?
Do I like that kind of thing?
My soaked panties indicate that I definitely, seriously do.
“Butch,” I whisper unevenly.
“What?” His mouth is pressed up tight to my lips, his intense eyes boring into me. “Say what you’re thinking.”
“I don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“You want to call me Daddy?”
My sex clenches so tight that I make a pained sound. And I nod.
God help me, I nod.
“Ask me to kiss your pussy now.” Without taking his eyes off mine, he reaches down and starts to unfasten my shorts, jerking down the zipper with no small amount of force. His pupils are fully dilated, eyes almost black with hunger. Muscles flexed and sweaty and greased up. “I need to put my mouth to work, little girl. Now. The more time I spend kissing your lips, the more tempted I am to push my cock in between them and see how you like the taste.”
Emboldened by the filthy talk, so coarse, so unexpectedly freeing, I close my eyes and whisper the words. “Kiss my pussy, Daddy.”
The request is barely out of my mouth when he lurches forward, groaning, ramming his hardness into the juncture of my thighs, falling on top of me, humping me like an animal, his sweaty face buried in the crook of my neck. “Yes, little girl. I’ll kiss it so good.” And then his open mouth is dragging down the center of my body, his tongue wetting my clothing. It’s scandalous. It’s filthy, the way he’s looking at me, sliding off the bed, getting down on his knees and yanking me to the edge. The way he’s ripping the shorts and underwear down my legs, shoving his face into my heat and reveling there with nose, tongue, cheeks, chin. “Oh fuck,” he growls. “You taste like a fucking miracle. That’s what you are. Maybe you’re an angel sent to save me.”
I can’t respond. There’s no chance.
His tongue parts me on a groaning lick and I glimpse the outer reaches of the universe. My hands sink into his thick hair and hold on, my eyes staring blindly at the bottom of the top bunk, shocked at the intimacy being performed on me. He’s not just pleasuring me, he’s learning me. Paying attention to every gasp, every time my hold tightens in his hair. And he exploits those sensitive regions, rubbing his tongue on them gently, roughly, gently, flickering and sucking until I’m crying. Tears are coursing down my temples and the orgasm detonates in that place deep, deep behind my sex. Relief hits like a two by four to the middle and I wail his name pitifully, my flesh squeezing without cease, stealing my breath, coiling and uncoiling my muscles. And Butch laps at my wetness eagerly. It’s filthy the way he does it, staring me right in the eye—Daddy—and something dark and sexual unlocks inside of me, letting me know this is already an addiction.
Pleasure from this man is a new requirement.
Considering the fact that I’m supposed to be evicting him, that’s a huge problem. But when Butch climbs back into the bed beside me, tucks me into his embrace and drugs me with his warmth, problems cease to exist.
For now.
Chapter Four
Butch
Jaw propped on a fist, I stare down at the miracle that has been sent to me.
Cindy enjoys my touch.
Doesn’t seem fearful of me at all.
Her body is curled up against mine with so much trust, my throat burns at the sight of it. She fell asleep an hour ago and now her leg is trapped between two of mine, her lips parted slightly. The drone of the machines one floor down is a soothing hum, as opposed to the mechanical roar I hear when I’m in the engine room. I’m torn between the peace this girl offers me and the fear of the unknown.
I can’t keep her down here forever.
Can I?
The engine room of an oil rig is not a safe place for a tiny female. And someone would come for her eventually. Someone will come for this rig because it has a monetary value. Until she walked down the stairs and enlivened my blood, I was prepared to remain in my home no matter what. Even if they chose to detonate a bomb and implode the rig, build a new one from scratch, I would have gone down with the ship rather than face the daylight.
Now I have touched the softest skin. Looked into fathomless green eyes and tasted her come on my tongue. Her melodic voice is in my head, her innate curiosity satisfies my mind. How will I be able to do anything but follow her up to the surface if she tries to leave? A better question is, am I enough of a lost soul, a monster, that I could drag Cindy back down into the darkness with me and refuse to let her go? That possibility isn’t out of the question. Already my heart is sprinting at the thought of her disappearing into the sunlight without me.