Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“Please, Trevor,” she whispers, “I want you.”
The need in her voice is a knife. I undo my belt, shove my jeans down just far enough, and stroke my cock a few times, watching her eyes go wide at the sight. She’s still boneless from the orgasm, her knees falling apart, but when I line up at her entrance, she rises to meet me, greedy for it.
“Fuck me, Daddy,” she whispers, spreading her legs so that her pussy’s wide open for my huge shaft. “Make me feel it.”
I push in slow, savoring the heat and the way she clutches at me. She’s so wet it’s almost too easy, but the way her cunt milks me is pure bliss. I bottom out, balls pressed tight to her ass, and hold there, letting her feel every inch.
“You feel that, sweetheart?” I murmur in her ear. “You feel how I’m splitting you open? You like getting fucked until your teeth rattle?”
She moans, clinging to my shoulders, hips rolling up to take more.
“Yes Daddy!” she moans. “You’re so big I can feel you all the way in my tummy.”
My cock jerks and I growl rapturously.
“God, you’re so fucking tight,” I rasp, and pull out to the tip before driving in again, making her shudder. I set a rhythm, hard and deep, the slap of my hips against her ass echoing in the hollow. The grass scratches my knees, the smell of earth and dead leaves thick in my lungs, but I only see her—the flush on her cheeks, the way her hair fans out behind her, the dazed look of pleasure on her face.
I let go of her wrists and grab her ass, tilting her up, changing the angle so my cock hits her g-spot with every thrust. She cries out, louder now, lost in it. I keep fucking her, steady and relentless, and the words pour out of me, filthy and raw.
“You’re mine,” I say, voice rough. “You’re my girl, my fuckdoll, my everything. No one else will ever have you like this.”
She nods, wild, eyes glazed.
“Say it,” I order, “tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, Trevor,” she whimpers, “I’m all yours, forever.”
I feel the orgasm building in me, the coil wound tight. I reach down, thumb working her clit, and within seconds she’s coming again, a full-body quake that makes her clamp down on my cock so hard I nearly black out.
“Ooooh!” she cries, cupping those big breasts as she’s fucked thoroughly. “Mmmm!”
I lose it, burying myself deep, shooting inside her in hot pulses. The world tunnels down to the sensation—the grip of her pussy, the way her body shakes, the taste of her name on my tongue.
“Kayleigh!” I roar. “Oh shit shit shit!”
I come again, hot cream shooting into the depths of my perfect girl. I dump a massive load in her cunt, filling her with spunk until she’s overflowing as she cries out for more, pulling my dick further into her slick tunnel. Finally, the pleasure begins to ebb and for a long minute, neither of us moves. My breath is a roar in my ears, and her hands are buried in my hair, holding me to her chest.
The sun slips under the horizon, the world blue and soft.
I pull out, slow, watching as my massive cock reappears inch by inch from her slick pussy. I watch the way my cum leaks from her, sticky and white against the curve of her thigh. I use my fingers to smear it into her skin, then bring them to her mouth. She sucks them clean, eyes locked on mine.
We lie there, tangled together in the grass, her body limp and glowing, my head on her chest. Her hair smells like vanilla and earth. My heart is finally, finally quiet.
I look at the grave, at the stone, at the flower still standing where I left it.
Aleatha, wherever you are, I hope you know that I only meant respect.
I hope you know I didn’t forget.
I hope you know that I finally made it out of the rut, and into the light.
I close my eyes, and let Kayleigh’s breath carry me away.
We lie there in the grass for a long time. The ground is still warm from the day, but the breeze cuts low and fast, lifting Kayleigh’s hair so it tickles my chest. She curls against me, her head tucked under my chin, one arm thrown across my ribs. My hand finds the curve of her back and just rests there, fingers spread wide, holding her in place like she might drift off otherwise.
The cemetery is dead quiet. Not even a bird. The sky’s gone navy, shot through with one last streak of pink at the horizon. There’s a hum from the road two blocks over, but out here it could be the blood in my own ears. The stone where Aleatha’s name is barely legible sits in front of us, the white flower still sharp and unbowed.