Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“Come here.”
He pulls me back and into his lap, onto his waiting cock. My pussy is slick, but the burn of fast penetration makes me gasp. His finger finds my clit and taps rhythmically. “That’s it. Sit on Daddy’s knee. Take my cock.”
I gasp, the forbiddenness of his words so wrong in theory but so arousing in practice. They’re an insight into this closed man and the need he can’t conceal when he’s trying to remain in control.
I shift my hips, needing to move. His hands work me up and down, handing me as though I weigh nothing, thumbs digging into my flesh. For a second, I wish there was a mirror so I could see what I look like being manhandled by this big, dominant man. Little ol’ Taylor. The one all the boys looked past at school, put off by the whiff of poverty and deprivation I couldn’t erase with cheap vanilla body spray.
“You’re so beautiful,” Jesse says. “So perfect… oh yeah… don’t stop.” His thrusts increase in tempo and depth. “Touch yourself, princess. I want to feel you come. That’s it. Come on my cock, sweet girl.”
When I press my finger between my legs, I’m shocked at how swollen I am. The pads of my fingers meet the place where our bodies are joined, and I squeak at the stretch and power of his body inside mine.
“That’s it. Oh yeah,” he growls against my ear. “Use that finger, baby. Make that pussy sing.” With only a little pressure, I’m there, clamping down and then fluttering around Jesse’s cock. He grunts with surprise and then swells inside me, pulsing his release.
Both times we’ve done this, he hasn’t worn a condom, unlike Clint and Maverick. We haven’t had any conversations about birth control, so maybe he’s not bothered about the risk of me getting pregnant. The way he stiffened when I asked about his son flashes into my mind. Does he want to impregnate me? Is that what this is about? Do the others know?
The little implant under the skin on the inside of my arm will put a stop to anything like that, but the realization that Jesse’s either cavalier about making children, or purposefully trying to make one with me without a discussion, makes my throat tighten.
He eases me from his softening cock, pulling me onto his lap but sideways, kissing me with a laziness that seems to only feature after sex. There’s no urgency now, only softness. His fingers graze my cheeks and pet my hair.
“Thank you,” he says, surprising me.
“What for?” I ask stupidly.
“For being the kind of person who doesn’t dig in after a fight.”
“I hate confrontation,” I admit.
“I’m sorry, too,” he says. “For being a controlling ass. For reacting badly when I was called out for it. I want this to work out.”
“Me, too,” I say. And inside, the words for Molly’s sake whisper like a secret.
I stand suddenly when his cum leaks from inside me. “I’m going to mess up your jeans.”
Jesse nudges the inside of my thigh, urging my legs apart, sliding a finger through my wetness. His expression softens as he pushes his fingers inside me like he wants to push back everything he left behind.
He does want me to get pregnant.
I’m only nineteen years old and so fresh in this house that I still haven’t been in every room. It’s too fast. But I can’t tell him that. He can’t suspect that I’m protected from getting pregnant.
He can’t know that he’s not going to get what he really wants. Not before Molly’s with me.
12
CLINT
OPPOSING DREAMS
Taylor's in her room, but I'm restless in mine. Hearing her with Jesse downstairs after the Lackey's left made me crazy. I'm not jealous, more worried about her, and not sure that Jesse knows how to handle Taylor as carefully as she needs.
After she tiptoes to bed, I wait in my doorway for Jesse to make his way upstairs, and when he does, I can't bring myself to say anything to him.
I want to tell him he's an asshole for choosing someone like Taylor and not being honest with her. She's a fragile thing, although she likes to pretend she's not. She's so desperate for us to like her, and Jesse's taking advantage of her desire to please, even after he overheard her crying on the phone.
And locking her in the house and upsetting her that way shows he's thinking of himself before her. My dark stare must burn, but he simply nods his head as he passes.
“Night,” he says, then disappears into his room, closing the door behind him.
I need to sleep, but I can't—not when Taylor's next door... when my wife's next door and might be upset.
I shouldn't have these feelings for her. I can't. Giving her false hope isn't fair. I'm not husband material, at least not in the love and relationship-building sense. I've done too much bad in my life. I'd taint sweet Taylor with all that darkness.