Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Breathe, Kitten,” I say, kissing her. “Let Daddy in.”
She does, and I press forward, the head sliding in, the walls of her pussy gripping me like a fist.
“Jesus, you’re small,” I hiss, almost coming on the spot.
She gasps, face twisting, but doesn’t tell me to stop.
I pull back, then push in further, each time getting a little deeper. Her pussy is so fucking tight, the resistance unreal, but I go slow, letting her adjust.
“Does it hurt?” I ask, brushing her hair off her face.
“A little,” she says, voice thin. “But it’s okay, and I like you stretching me like this, Daddy. Keep going.”
I do, inch by inch, until I hit the barrier. The mythic “first time,” the wall that’s supposed to mean something.
“Ready?” I ask, and she nods.
I push, just a little, and feel it give. She cries out, tears springing to her eyes, but I don’t move, just hold her, kissing her cheeks, her forehead, her lips.
“It’s okay, baby,” I murmur. “You did perfect. It’s over now. Daddy will take care of you.”
She sobs once, then wraps her arms around my neck, holding tight.
I stay still, letting her body adjust, letting her own it.
When she relaxes, I start moving, slow and shallow at first, then deeper. Her pussy softens, the pain replaced by heat, by want.
“Oh, god,” she breathes, and I feel her clench around me.
“That’s it,” I rasp, fucking her slow, savoring every second. “You’re Daddy’s good girl now.”
She moans, high and wild, and I can feel her building, the pressure in her body coiling tight.
I reach down, thumb circling her clit as I fuck her. She arches, nails digging into my back, and then she comes—hard, body wracked with shudders, pussy milking my cock like she never wants it to leave.
“Ooooh, Daddy!” she cries out, throwing her head back. “Mmmm!”
I can’t hold back any longer. I drive in, bury myself to the hilt, and let go, coming harder than I have in years, filling her with every drop. The world goes white.
“Fuck!” I shout, pulsing like a madman while filling her with virile cream. “Oh shit!”
We scream and shout, our cries echoing off the rafters. Kat feels so good around me, her tender pussy wrapped tightly like a velvet vise around my throbbing, aching cock, as she convulses again, crying out my name.
“Mmm!” she cries out. “Yes, take me, Daddy! Use my body for your pleasure.”
“I will, and you’re a beautiful slut, baby,” I rasp against her curves, dipping my head for a lick at her nipple. “Fuck fuck fuck, your pussy’s so tight.”
For a long moment, we just breathe, tangled together, sweat cooling on our bodies.
I pull out, careful, noticing the circle of red surrounding the base of my dick, and collapse beside her, gathering her into my arms.
Kat’s crying, silent but real, and I wipe her cheeks with my thumb.
“Hey,” I whisper. “You did so real good, baby. I’m proud of you.”
She laughs, watery and sweet. “You’re such a sap.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” I say, kissing her temple.
We lie there, her head on my chest, my arms around her. For the first time in years, I feel not just sated, but whole.
As the candles gutter out, Kat drifts off to sleep, her hand curled in mine.
I stay awake, watching the shadows, wondering how I ever lived without this beautiful woman.
Sunrise paints the cabin in streaks of gold and butter, every wooden surface awash in a warmth so sincere it almost feels fake. The sheets are a nest of heat and salt, our sweat and bodies tangled together in a knot that neither of us seems ready to loosen. Kat is curled against my chest, hair fanned across the pillow, one leg flung over my hip like we’ve slept this way for a thousand years. My hand strokes her back, tracing the soft slope of her spine, the dimples above her ass. I want to stay here forever.
She stirs, eyelids fluttering, then stretches with a sound halfway between a yawn and a purr. Her eyes open, blue and clear, and for a second she just looks at me—no makeup, no armor, just the girl.
“Morning,” she says, voice ragged from sleep and whatever we did to her last night.
I kiss her forehead. “Morning, Kitten.”
She smiles, nuzzles closer. For a while we just lie there, the only sound the lazy tick of the grandfather clock in the hall. I breathe her in, memorizing the details: the way her cheek dimples when she grins, the little scar on her left arm, the pale pink marks where I gripped her too hard in the dark.
“You okay?” I ask, rubbing my thumb over the hollow of her hip.
She nods, burying her face in my chest. “Better than okay,” she mumbles. “I feel… I don’t know. Different.”
I know what she means. I feel it, too.