Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 19169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 96(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 96(@200wpm)___ 77(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
“You feel so good, April.” He licks his thumb and centers it over my clit. “Now be a good girl and take Daddy’s dick.”
I rest my hands on Jonathan’s sides, gazing into his eyes as he rubs my clit and fucks me slowly. He looks like himself, but something has shifted inside him. Somehow, in the time it took for us to walk from the kitchen to the bedroom, he’s become a different version of himself, and a more familiar version to me. He’s become Jay, the daddy with the filthy mouth and the hands that know what they want before the rest of him catches up.
His thrusts hit harder and faster. Now that I’ve had a chance to get used to his size, I welcome his fervor.
“I can tell you’re close, baby,” he rasps. “Don’t fight it. Come on me...”
I pinch my eyes closed as another orgasm blasts through me, this one sharp and potent. He must feel it, too, because within seconds, he’s roaring like a beast, burying himself inside me. I feel his cock throb, his wet heat filling me up and overflowing.
“I love you so fucking much, April.” He lowers his lips to my neck. “I still can’t believe you’re mine.”
“Believe it,” I say. “Because I love you, too, Jay... Jonathan... Daddy.”
Epilogue
Jonathan
Three years later...
I whistle and snap my fingers as I make my way through the house, toward the sound of power saws and hammering.
“Mango,” I call softly, as I peer into the den, where three guys are currently sawing a hole through the wall. “Have any of y’all seen my cat?”
The guys shake their heads no.
“Damn it.” I promised April I’d keep him away from the power tools. Last time I checked, he was in the kitchen batting around a stray nail.
Austin appears, clapping me on the shoulder. “All right. Insulation should arrive tomorrow.”
“Sounds good,” I say. After some deliberation, we decided to make this house our home. It’s a damn good thing we didn’t downsize, because our cozy little twosome is about to become a family of three—plus Mango. April’s convinced we’re gonna max out all the bedrooms upstairs, so we’re moving her playroom down to the first floor, which means tacking an addition onto the back of the house. It’s basically an expansion of the den, but with its own lockable door and sound-proofed walls.
Of course, I enlisted Austin and his crew to handle the renovation.
“Hey, are we gonna see you guys at the barbecue next weekend?” he asks.
“Yeah, we’ll be there.” Austin and his business partner, Jonah, take turns hosting a monthly gathering for their employees and their families. I never used to go to those things, but since April and I got married, I’ve been trying to broaden our social circle. My sister and her kids absolutely adore April, but I want her to have friends nearby.
She doesn’t see her dad or her stepmom anymore. That was her choice, and I fully support it. The way she frames it, who needs a neglectful dad when you’ve got a doting daddy?
My thoughts exactly.
I check around the first floor one more time and then head upstairs to check the guest beds before I peek in on April in the main bedroom. I should’ve known Mango would be in his favorite spot: curled up on our bed next to April.
Not that I blame him; the bed’s one of my favorite spots to cuddle her, too.
She’s propped herself up on at least five pillows so she can read while munching ham and pineapple pizza. At five-months pregnant, she’s been craving it something fierce. I’m always happy to run out and get it for her, as long as I don’t have to eat it.
April catches me watching her from the doorway. It’s such a common occurrence that all she does is shake her head and smile.
I would’ve thought she’d get sick of me watching her all the time, the same way she decided she was done with camming after we officially became a couple.
Fortunately for me, she still loves it. So much that we plan to install a private network that connects our bedroom computer to a computer in the new playroom. That way, if we want to take a trip down memory lane, she can be in the playroom, putting on a show for Daddy, while I watch from the bedroom.
“Hey, Daddy,” she says, lips curving. “See something you like?”
I swear, my wife is sexier and more desirable right here, with pizza in one hand and a book in the other, than she ever was in lingerie.
“You know I do, baby girl. And it’s definitely not the pizza.”
She giggles. I take a seat at the end of the bed, guiding her foot into my lap. She hums with pleasure as I massage her arch.
“That feels amazing,” she says. April’s been on her feet a lot this week, now that she’s got a part-time gig as a librarian’s assistant. She’ll be starting grad school in the fall, working toward her masters in library science. But the hours she puts in at the public library will look great on her resume when the time comes to apply for a full-time librarian position.