Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“I’m warning you now, Ayla, I’ve been too miserable to beat off.” Pain and pressure build between my legs, making me groan. “My plumbing is so backed up, I won’t be able to tear myself off you for a week. If you weren’t already pregnant, we’d fix that real fast.”
Her eyes turn a sultry shade of blue that I recognize well. It means she’s horny.
“Maybe I won’t be able to tear myself off of you,” she teases, reaching down and fisting my dick, dragging it through her wetness. We take a few seconds to moan, to kiss and reunite with each other, then her expression turns serious. “You told me you loved me, Flynt.”
“There is nothing truer in this world, Ayla.”
“I love you, too,” she whispers against my lips, tears making her eyes shine.
Then, because she’s utter perfection, she sinks her tongue into my mouth and lowers herself onto my cock at the same time. Twisting her hips as she kisses me.
“Ayla,” I groan, breaking free of the kiss, already panting. “I wasn’t kidding. I’m already about to flood you.”
She shakes her tits at me. “Do it, Daddy.”
I almost black out. “Oh. Fuck!”
Outside in the front yard, a car door slams and I know it’s her father.
The knowledge in her eyes says she knows it, too.
“Do it. Come inside me,” she repeats, starting to buck her hips frantically. “And then take me away from here and never let me go.”
I’d promise her the moon, the sun and the stars any time she asked, but especially right now when she rides my cock like she’s trying to win a contest. My balls are in my fucking throat. Jesus Jesus Jesus. I hear the front door of the house open and surge to my feet, slamming her bedroom door closed and keeping it shut with my left hand, using my right to ride her up and down, faster, faster, biting down on my lip to keep my grunts from turning into bellows of pleasure.
“Ayla!” He pounds on the door. “That convict better not be in there with you.”
Her head falls back and she exhales shakily, tightening her pussy muscles until I can do nothing but grind her up against the door roughly and ejaculate, gripping her ass in my hands. Somehow, I manage to stay silent during the best climax of my life, even while I’m shaking and my eyes roll back in my head. I don’t stop thrusting until the insides of her legs are dripping with my spend. And I’m still hard as a rock for her.
“You trust me to take you away from here, baby?” I ask in between deep breaths. “You trust me to take care of you and this child?”
Her eyes shimmer with love. “I trust you, period.”
My throat cinches up so tight I can hardly speak. “I’ll never let you down.”
We keep the door locked long enough to pack Ayla’s most important things and clean myself off of her thighs. Then we walk straight past her father out the front door, the knowledge that Ayla is eighteen and he can do nothing to stop us plain on his face.
We walk out the door a little uncertain of our future…
But totally confident in each other and our love.
And I know it’s going to be a beautiful ride.
epilogue
Ten Years Later
Ayla
I watch from the upstairs office as my husband rolls out from beneath a Mercedes, his shirtless, muscular torso covered in sweat and grease. My palms slide slowly up my inner thighs, dragging my skirt to my hips. I’m alone in the office—that’s how Flynt likes it. We bought the auto body shop a couple of years after graduation and I took over the administrative side of things while Flynt remains downstairs in the shop. We tried hiring employees upstairs, but it didn’t work. Me and my husband need to be alone too often to have people around. As it is, we’ve already been caught making love by several customers over the years. We were already a source of fascination for the community after what happened a decade ago, but now everyone blushes when they pass us on the street.
Yes, we’re something of a folk tale in this town. The convict who impregnated the good girl, stole her out from under her father’s nose, marched her back into school the following day so she could finish degree. By the end of senior year, I was visibly pregnant, but I didn’t care about the whispers in the hallway. I had my soul mate to hold my hand.
And we had plans.
We married at the courthouse the day after we graduated and lived above the garage for two years while scraping money together. Then we bought the garage. I put my academic prowess to good use and adjusted some old business practices, started advertising and found us another garage under foreclosure. We fixed it up and made it our second location.