Reckless Promise
“How was lunch?” he asks softly, orbiting close to me like he can’t bring himself to move away.
“Good. Your mother’s got a lot of opinions about our love life.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “I keep telling her not to talk about it with you.”
“No, I’m sorry, that sounded bad. I mean, your mother’s a really smart woman, and I just—” I stop talking and give him a big smile. “I made a decision back there.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“No matter what happens now, I’m not going to knock down this house. I want your mother to live here as long as she wants to. This is her house and her life, and I’m not going to kick her out just because I want to plant more bushes.”
We reach the bottom of the steps and he pauses, frowning at me, head tilted. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, of course.” I blush slightly at his attention. “I should’ve thought of it sooner, but everything’s been so busy that it just slipped my mind. I’d never force your mother to move somewhere else, that’s just not fair. This is her home. And maybe I can live here too for a while, and you can too if you want, and maybe—”
He grabs my wrists and pushes me back against the wall and buries my mouth with a deep and rough kiss.
I yelp and kiss him back. I melt into his body as he smothers me with his lips and taste. I moan into that kiss, every inch of my skin buzzing and tingling for his touch. He drives me crazy with nothing more than his mouth, and I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking, trying to pretend like I want a life without him.
“Have I told you yet that you’re a good person?” he whispers in my ear.
“Well, no, but you can start now if you’d like.”
“You’re a good person, Tara. You care about people. Even people you pretend like you hate. I doubt very many decent humans have walked through these halls, but you’re one of them.”
I tilt my chin up and stare into his eyes. “You’re not so broken. You think you’re ruined—but you’re not.”
He smiles sadly and shakes his head. “Sweet of you to say, but you’re wrong.” He kisses me again gently. “I made peace with that a long time ago. Now come on.” He leads me away from the steps and to the first door we come across. It opens into a dusty sitting room with a piano and bookshelves and a long couch. He shuts the door and pins me up against the old baby grand, hefting me onto the lid. “I want to reward you for your generosity.”
“And how will you do that, Mr. Hayle?”
“Mmm, don’t call me that,” he says as he slowly peels off my jeans. “Call me something else.”
“Kellen?”
“That’s not bad.”
He kisses my inner thigh. I bite my lip and stifle a moan. “Daddy?”
“Oh, I like being called daddy, but try again.”
He bites me softly as he takes off my panties. I gasp and toss my head back. “Sir?”
“There it is,” he says, and I don’t know if he means my glistening, wet pussy, or that word—and I don’t care. He licks me top to bottom and I moan in response, digging my fingers into his hair.
“God, yes,” I groan. “I love it when you do that, sir. Keep going.”
He licks me faster in response, sliding fingers inside, going fast. I whimper, breasts shaking with each gasping breath. “Sir, Kellen, oh, god,” I moan. “Keep going.”
He doesn’t stop. Kellen never does. He fucks me deeper with his fingers and nibbles on my clit until I come in a wild firestorm of pleasure, my eyes blinking rapidly to try to clear away the encroaching black spots.
But he’s not done with me. He pulls me down from the piano and turns me around, lavishing praise on my body. “Gorgeous legs, perfect ass, beautiful lips and breasts. I love your thighs and your hips and the way you walk and the way you sit in my lap. I love the way your pussy clenches down on my thick cock and clings to me. God, I love when you drip down my shaft. I love when you suck my cock and gag and keep going because you know how much I love it when I hit the back of your throat. I love every inch of you, Tara.”
I lean back and kiss him over my shoulder as he presses his thick tip against my gaping, wet entrance, and he slowly slides inside. He goes deep and I gasp, whispering, moaning as he fills me. He fucks me from behind like that, taking me slow at first, then hard and savage. I’m bent over the piano, my hair pulled, my ass slapped and spanked. “Leave a bruise,” I moan. “Leave a fucking bruise, Kellen.”
He spanks me hard and growls in response. I work my back, bucking along his shaft. “Come on, asshole, spank me.”
His eyes gleam as he spanks me again and again, fucking me hard, hand fisted in my hair and pulling rough. I groan and grunt in response and take him deep and yes, fuck, yes, the pleasure and pain mingle to create utter and wild ecstasy in my brain, euphoria rips down my spine and builds in my core, and I swear I’m ripped away into rapture. His hard palm on my soft skin and his thick cock stretching me out drives me to oblivion.