The Perfect Gift
“Shhh, little fairy,” he says against my ear. “You have nothing to be sorry about.” The hand rubbing my back drops lower, his warm palm sliding up beneath my dress to palm my bottom. He kneads it lovingly, right there in front of my sisters, his erection swelling against my sex, forcing a breathless whimper past my lips. “Did you really think you’d send me this angel and I wouldn’t want to keep her?”
I cling to his shoulders, excitement buzzing in my blood when Lincoln unzips his pants. What is he going to do? Anticipation saturates my folds with moisture. Yes, I’m aware both of my sisters are standing a few feet away and they can see everything, but with my face buried in Lincoln’s neck, I’m almost overwhelmingly aware of him. His expensive scent mixed with morning paradise. The dips and valleys of his muscular chest, the skill and confidence of his hands as he tugs the crotch of my panties to one side.
The thick head of his shaft prods my opening and he grunts, powering a couple of inches inside me. With me balanced on the tip of his pulsing erection, he hooks his forearms beneath my knees and slowly lowers me down to the root, my eager squirms and sobs only making him harder, more determined.
When I’m totally impaled, I’m surprised to experience only the barest hint of pain. I’m so wet and he’s so right inside me, love and sensation and pleasure crowd everything else out.
“How is my girl?” he breathes against my temple, his middle finger tucking into my back entrance and jiggling. “You as fucking perfect as you feel?”
“I’m so good, Daddy.” I rub my breasts against his chest and flex my inner walls, working a growl from his throat. “I feel like yours. That’s how I feel.”
“They wanted you to get pregnant, little girl,” he groans in my ear, cursing me for being too tight, rolling his hips in a sensually devastating way, starting a tremble in my legs. “We don’t want to disappoint, do we? Work that ripe, young pussy up and down. Give them what they want.”
Holding on to his shoulders, I lean back and pump my hips eagerly, sobbing brokenly when his abundant thickness hits a deep, illicit part of me and exhilaration clamors through my body, head to toe, my clit swelling and tingling with delight. The sound of feet shifting on the floorboards behind me is just background noise. There’s only him. Lincoln.
“I’m putting my seed in her. Any claim you have to her is long gone.” His big hand slaps my right ass cheek hard, grips and shakes it. “All of this is mine now. Every inch.”
The bite of his spanking wakes up darker, more desperate needs inside me and I ride him for broke, hips pistoning, the instinct to satisfy us both driving me. “I’m going to c-c-come.”
“Fuck, Nova. Me too.” He clasps my buttocks in possessive hands and bounces me up and down in a blur, jostling my breasts inside my dress, ripping the reason from my mind. That hard, hot part of him plunges so deep, over and over again, I swear my femininity rearranges so I’m custom built just for one man. “Instead of putting a baby in this stomach and walking away, like they hoped,” he grits against my temple, “I’m going to spend my life spoiling you rotten. Dripping my beautiful wife in diamonds. Aren’t I, little girl?”
“Yes,” I push through chattering teeth, my climax pitching me overboard.
“Take my seed,” he says through clenched teeth, his shaft jerking inside me, flooding me with incredible heat. And still he thrusts up into me, ramming his erection upwards into my spasming flesh, again and again, the sound of slapping flesh filling the restaurant. “Get good and pregnant. That was my plan all along, too.”
A few moments later, after Lincoln has zipped himself back into his pants, he carries me from the restaurant, back toward the house on the cliff—and we never look back.
Epilogue
Lincoln
Five years later
I stand on the cliff of the lagoon, looking down at my beautiful family as they swim, barely able to withstand the pressure inside my chest.
As always, my gaze is drawn to my incredible wife.
Her mouth is spread in a bright smile as she tosses our youngest son up into the air, catching him in her arms right before he hits the water. Our daughter giggles and splashes nearby, her blonde hair in disarray. She’s a wild island girl at heart, just like her mother.
I long to dive from the cliff and come up behind my wife, wrap her in my arms—something I never thought possible once upon a time—but I savor these moments of watching them unaware. Letting my love for them permeate my bones and ground me in place.