It’s all working well. Too well.
“Fuck, Ains,” he grunts. “I’m about to come.”
I appreciate the warning but don’t move from my spot, and hot streams of his cum jet to the back of my throat as I finish him off. And once he’s finished and the quaking of his body starts to slow, he pulls me up into his arms and cradles me there a few quiet moments.
He’s so different than I expected. He comes off as this bad boy football star without a care in the world, and that’s not at all who he is.
He’s sweet and kind. He’s scared, and yet he’s not running from the things that scare him. He’s facing them and tackling them head-on.
And he’s doing it all while holding my hand in his.
CHAPTER 34: Ainsley Bradley
I’m a Slut
We went to bed last night after all the oral sex. He has to be at his practice facility this morning by eight, so I decided to get up early to spend a little time with him before he has to go.
“There’s Daddy Dex,” I say when he walks into the kitchen while I’m making him breakfast. It’s a little after seven, and I’m still getting out the supplies to make a nice, hearty breakfast. The baby is still asleep, so I don’t know why those words come out of my mouth.
Apparently he likes them.
He stalks across the kitchen toward me, and his voice is low and intimidating when he asks, “Are you on birth control?”
I shake my head. “Why?”
“Because I want to fuck my wife in my kitchen, and I don’t have a condom on me. Let’s get it sorted.”
My heart thunders at his words. Hell yeah, I’ll take care of it. Today, if I can.
“Call me that again,” he says.
I clear my throat, and my voice is tentative when I say, “Good morning, Daddy Dex.”
“Get your ass in that bedroom, get naked, and wait for me on the bed so I can treat you like the good little slut you are for me.”
Oh my God. Nobody has ever spoken to me like that before, but suddenly it’s all I want. I want to be his good little slut. He likes when I call him Daddy Dex? Well, I like when he calls me his little slut.
Who would ever have thought that would sound so hot? It should sound degrading. But we both know I don’t sleep around, and he used a very important prepositional phrase in that sentence:for me.
I’m a slutfor him. Nobody else. And I prove that when I rush to the bedroom and strip off my clothes as requested.
I shiver as the chill in the air makes my nipples harden. I rub my fingertip along the peaks, and it sends a shot of need straight through me. I want his rough hands on my breasts again. I want them all over my body, touching and caressing and giving me everything I need.
I’m so wet I feel like I’m dripping. I’m ready. I’m needy. I’m waiting.
In fact, I feel like I’ve been waiting a lifetime for him to come in when he finally does.
“There’s my good girl,” he says, and his lips curl into a smile as he stares down at me. Rather than take his time since we both know we don’t have much, he grabs a condom from his nightstand, yanks his cock over his athletic shorts, and rolls it on.
He moves toward me, and he runs his hand along my breasts and across each of my nipples. “Your tits are perfection,” he murmurs, and his hand dips along my torso and down toward my hip. He slips a finger in me, and he hisses at the feel of that dripping wet pussy just waiting for him.
“Fucking hell, Ainsley. This is the wettest pussy I’ve ever felt.”
“It’s what you do to me,” I murmur.
He pulls his fingers out of me and moves quickly so he’s hovering over me, but he doesn’t slide inside me just yet. Instead, he flips us so I’m on top of him. He helps me lift up a little, and then he aligns his cock with my body and pushes in. My body stretches for him, as if my pussy seems to remember this intruder and is happy to let him in again. Holy hell, I’m happy, too.
I sit down on him, andGod,that angle feels like pure heaven. I cry out at how good it feels, and he sets his hands under my ass to move my body over his.
