Relief hits me like a ton of bricks. “Thank God.” I crush a fistful of tulle. “The tutu makes you look younger.”
“I…could pretend,” she murmurs against my mouth, before leaning back to study my reaction. As if to make sure she didn’t say anything bad. Or wrong. Do I know if what we’re talking about and doing is wrong? No. I just know it’s happening. It’s our bodies and minds meeting and running their own show, no logic or ethics involved. “Can we pretend?” she rephrases shyly, hiding beautiful green eyes behind her lashes.
Christ, my cock and balls are as hard as stone now, heart hammering in my ribcage. I’m connecting to her on a level I never could have anticipated. Have I really known her for such a short time? My soul knows hers. “Pretend,” I grunt, nodding with our foreheads pressed together. “I should start by apologizing to your pussy for what I did. Being so careless.”
She has no idea what I’m thinking. It’s obvious in the way she blinks up at me.
There is nothing pretend about her innocence and that becomes even more clear when I kiss down the center of her body, taking careful bites of her supple flesh, belly, hips, thighs. I come to the core of her and groan over the little wisps of strawberry-blonde hair that she tries to hide by crossing her legs. Not having that, I press her knees open and continue kissing and licking up the insides of her thighs, the fresh fruit scent of her making me salivate. I can see a dried trickle of her virgin blood on her parted flesh, my tongue licking it up like a feast after forty days of famine—and hell breaks loose in my head.
Mine.
Mine.
MINE.
I almost prowl back up her body and pump my cock inside of her, then and there. Something about her virgin blood hitting me in the back of the throat is exhilarating. Like a baptism or a rebirth. “Tastes like fucking sugar,” I growl with my nose buried in her cunt, my hands shaking where they continue to keep her knees pried open. “Ask Daddy to lick it.”
He fists the sheets. “I…I don’t know…”
Is her bashfulness for show? Part of the game we’re playing? I don’t know. I’m already getting too lost in the role. So lost that it’s not a role at all. “I’m licking it whether you ask or not, little girl. But I’ll spank it if you don’t give me what I want.”
I watch the tremor course down her body, her nipples peaking even tighter. More of that fresh fruit scent hits my nose and I know, I fucking know she likes the idea of being spanked. Which is definitely why she denies me again. She wants it. “I just don’t know…”
Using only three straightened fingers, I slap her pussy, dead center.
She chokes on a gasp. And I do it again, harder, then I use those three fingers to rub her cunt open, my face an inch away, watching the wetness grow beneath my petting fingers, her beautiful flesh becoming less and less of a secret to me. Revealing itself. When my middle finger strokes over her clitoris, she bucks off the bed, her fist tearing a hole in my thin sheet. “Oh. Oh, please. Please d-do that again.”
Of course, I give her what she begs me for, but I use my tongue this time, lapping the swelling nub long and thoroughly, her body growing instantly restless. Flushed. Witnessing her pleasure and knowing I’m responsible makes me feel alive, makes me feel forgiven for how roughly I treated her earlier. Never again in my life do I want to be anything but deliberate and careful when I touch this female, but there is an intuition gripping my spine that tells me it’s a pipe dream. That it’s only a matter of time before I go feral.
How can I be anything but crazed when I’m tasting heaven, looking up her writhing body, her face partially obscured by the pink tutu. Her hands leave the sheets, one of them palming my shaved head, the other lifting to fondle her left tit. Jesus. How has this creature existed all along without me knowing? There is no one more hypnotic and sexual and sweet and everything on the planet. I’m not going to last very much longer before the next part. Raking my tongue over her clit, teasing it with the tip and tasting it fully is nothing short of incredible and I plan to spend decade after decade with my mouth between her thighs, but I’ve got to get my cock inside of her. Now. Yesterday. I’m going to die otherwise.
Knowing she’ll need to be soaked as fuck to take me, I press my whole thumb inside of her pussy, pushing deep and stretching her insides, all while flattening my tongue to her clit hard, harder, moving it side to side—
“Yes, Daddy!” she screams through her teeth, struck by her orgasm.
Feral?
That doesn’t even begin to describe what happens to me when she comes while calling me Daddy. Labeling me for life as her guardian. Her fuck. The only man in her life for the rest of her life. That vow is all packed into one gigantic word and tweaks something in my brain. Locks my possession of her into a position where it can never be carved out.
She’s shaking, sobbing, getting my lips soaking wet and I keep licking, licking as long as I can, my dick throbbing with agony. Anticipation. When I’ve kept her climax going as long as possible and she’s gone limp on the bed, head lolling to one side, I slide higher on her rosy body, growling like a goddamn beast, cock in hand.
“You make me need to fuck you. Violently,” I rasp, capturing her mouth in a twisting, panting kiss. “I don’t know what to do about it, except give in and hope you love it as much as you loved me slapping that cunt.”
“I will,” she hiccups, eyes locked on mine. “I’ll love it.”
“Why?” I demand, biting her jaw. As lightly as possible when I’m in this fevered state. “How do you know?”
“Because I want to see you…I n-need you to feel what just happened to me.” She’s running her hands all over me, her touch like an antidote to all the ugliness that I lived through before I met her. Before I knew such beauty could exist. “I need you to feel that incredible, too. Does that make sense?”
“It makes sense coming from you,” I say hoarsely against her mouth. “Because you’re perfect. Because you’re fucking perfect.”
Oh God, I can feel the animal inside of me taking over the reins.
I drop my head to the side and snarl into her dewy neck, rubbing the head of my prick through her soaked folds, pausing at her tight little hole. Rubbing my stiffness there to ease it open. “God help any man, besides me, who fantasizes about getting between these legs. I’ll see it on their faces and I will snap their spines for it.” This vow is delivered right up against her ear. It’s etched onto my soul. “Daddy needs to bang now, baby. You ready?”
Her pulse is going wild. “I don’t know,” she says, a little pouty.
Playing with me?