“Were you tempted to take it off?”
“No. But…”
“But what?”
She wet her lips, leaving them glossy. “People tried to make me take it off.”
I raise an eyebrow. “People?”
The change in my tone causes her breath to catch.
“Boys,” I clarify on her behalf.
“But I didn’t do it,” she whispers. “And I didn’t want to talk to them.”
“Then why didn’t you say so? Do you have a voice, Shea?” I skim my fingertips up the backs of her thighs and she whimpers. “Or do I need to spank it out of you?”
She starts to tremble, her nipples growing even more spiky. “Please, sir.”
Lord, I get almost dizzy. Drunk on her beauty and innocence. The responsibility she’s entrusting to me. This untapped hunger inside of her…it’s mine to foster. To shape. No one else’s. I’m highly aware of the resulting possessiveness rippling to life inside of me. How sharp and colorful it is. I shouldn’t allow myself to be possessive of Shea, but it’s too late to turn back now.
“I’m going to pull down your shorts now,” I say, gruffly.
Her rapid nod is so endearing, a knot forms in my throat. “If you want to stop, Shea, say the word ‘sushi.’” I tuck my fingers into the hips of her tiny shorts and work them down to her knees, my world tilting on its axis at my first look at her pussy. Succulent, soft and golden, lips glistening in invitation. A dusting of blonde hair. Absolutely exquisite.
I could stare at the shape and texture of it forever.
I could inhale the roses and sugar scent until I die.
But if I stare at her cunt a second longer, I’m going to bury my cock in her.
With a strangled growl, I twist her sideways and pull her face down onto my lap, groaning brokenly at her naked ass, so pertand eager in the firelight. Curved and tempting. Waiting for the first strike of my hand. Her breaths sound like sobs in the mostly quiet room, mingling with my harsh inhales, exhales.
Again, I question my sanity.
I’m on the verge of breaking a lot of unspoken rules. Rules that shouldn’t have to be spoken out loud. My daughter’s friend, a girl half my age, is lying across my thighs with her pants down, anticipating a blow from my hand. My cock is the stiffest it has been in years. Maybe in my whole fucking life. Sweat pours down the sides of my face.
Christ, she’s so hot.
I couldn’t stop now if I tried.
Gathering her blonde hair in my left hand, I raise my right one and bring it down on her ass cheeks in a testing blow, my plan to weigh her reaction. Go from there. But I don’t expect the claws of authority to dig into my chest, like talons. I don’t expect tofeelShea in my bones, suddenly, to connect with her in this powerful wave of need. Lust.
Understanding.
Renewal.
“You can take it harder than that, can’t you?” I ask, hoarse, my pulse raging.
“Yes, sir,” she breathes.
“Good girl. I know you can,” I say, delivering a stinging slap that frees a gasp from her mouth. “This is not for talking to boys. It’s for talking to boys when you didn’t want to.”
“I understand,” she responds in a thready voice, crying out over the next smack.
“I’m not worried about little boys. I knew you’d come home to your…”
Jesus, I come very close to sayingDaddy, but I hold my tongue, alarmed.
