Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 82(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 82(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
I protest, but not for long. Not once I realize what he’s doing. He bends me over the bench, guiding me to brace myself on my elbows on the warm metal. Mr. Jones flips up my dress, exposing me from the waist down, and palms my ass. “Don’t scream, baby girl. If you do, you’ll give us away.”
“I won’t—” I gasp as he slams into me. I didn’t realize until this moment how gentle he was being with me before. He’s not now. He holds my hips and jerks me back as he thrusts forward, fucking me so hard, I get dizzy. I bend further, pressing my mouth to my forearm in an attempt to muffle my moans.
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.
He keeps slamming into something inside me that has me going melty and hot. I barely have the chance to brace when I orgasm so hard, my knees buckle. If he wasn’t holding me so tightly, keeping me exactly where he wants me, I might collapse. He doesn’t stop. If anything, my cumming incites him further. “That’s right, little slut,” he mutters. “Feels good to be bad, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” I whisper, voice hoarse. “Don’t stop, Daddy. Cum inside me. Fill me up.”
“Jesus fuck.” He yanks me back onto his cock again, grinding deep. “I changed my mind. I can’t wait until tonight. I’m going to have this pussy again the first chance I get.” One last grinding stroke, and he comes inside me.
It should abate the fury of lust between us. It has to. But when Mr. Jones drops onto the bench and pulls me into his lap, he kisses me and shoves two fingers into me. I whimper. I’m sore, but I’m not sure I care. I can’t stop. “We should go inside.”
“In a minute.” He speaks against my ear, still fingering me. “You took my cum so sweetly, baby girl. You let me fill you right up.” He withdraws his soaking fingers and rubs them all over my pussy, finally settling against my clit. “How does it feel knowing you’re going to go sit next to him with me dripping down your thighs?”
I gasp. The words sting, but what he’s doing to my clit makes the lash sexy. Even though I know we need to get back inside, I rock against his touch. “Bad. It feels so bad.”
“You’re a terrible girlfriend.” He says it almost fondly. “He pisses you off once, and you’re panting after someone else’s cock. After his father’s cock.” Mr. Jones picks up his pace, stroking my clit just how I need it.
I gasp in a breath, but he doesn’t give me a chance to make a sound. He covers my mouth with his big hand, and then I’m orgasming, moaning against his palm and wet and messy against his hand between my thighs.
Mr. Jones keeps me going until I’m limp against him, and only then does he press a kiss to my neck and set me down on the bench. I drag in a rough breath. “Don’t you think it’s a bit hypocritical to call me a bad girlfriend when I’m dating your son?”
“Maybe.” He rises and adjusts his pants. “But you are a bad girlfriend.”
Shame worms through me, quickly followed by anger. “Fine. Then this ends now.”
Mr. Jones shakes his head slowly, an indulgent smile on his lips. “Come on, baby girl, you can play bratty all you want, but you know you aren’t done with me.”
He’s probably right, but I’m too pissed to care. “Sure I am.” I stand and smooth my dress back into place. “This never happened. I’ll stick to riding my boyfriend’s cock from here on out.”
He narrows his eyes. “Don’t toy with me, Neveah. You’ll come to my room tonight.”
“No, I won’t.” I turn. “I’ll be too busy fucking him to fuck you.”
Chapter 4
My anger and shame keep me going through the rest of the day. I avoid being alone because if Mr. Jones gets his hands on me again, I don’t like my chances of doing anything but cumming all over him. I know I don’t have the high ground, and my body still tingles from the memory of what we did, but I don’t like him thinking I’m a sure thing. I don’t like him pretending like I’m the only one in the wrong here.
Maybe I drink a little too much. I don’t know. All that matters is that sometime after midnight, I’m dragging Brad to our bedroom and stripping out of my dress. We don’t even shut the door all the way before I have his pants around his ankles and his cock in my mouth.
“Holy fuck, babe.” He drunkenly stares down at me with something like worship. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I need you.” I give him a few more long sucks, just enough to get him hard and have him thrusting into my mouth. “Get a condom.”