She bites her lip and nods, and I can see our future in her eyes.
We should talk about this more. We should have a proper discussion.
But there is no slowing down or reasoning when she’s this tight. This beautiful.
This young and fertile.
My lust rages, along with my affection for the angel who gives me her body with such trust, such abandon. Do I want this girl to have my baby?
There would be no greater honor.
“Give me come,” she begs in a broken murmur against my mouth. “I need come.”
I raise my right hand and wrap it around her throat, those lush lips parting in surprise. In pleasure. “I’ll give it to you when I’m ready, little girl.”
Her cunt shrinks around me, an involuntary flex. A reaction to my dominance.
I pump into the increasing tightness, releasing a hoarse bellow.
They can hear all this downstairs. Her cries for Daddy. The rattle of the door.
This would have scandalized me a week ago. Struck me as unprofessional. Wrong.
There is nothing wrong about us, though. Shea is my end game. This is life.
“God, I am fucking obsessed with you,” I rasp into her neck, my balls starting to grow tough. Painfully full. Ready, ready, ready. “You want to be a motherandmy fuck toy? I can give you that, Shea. Iwillgive you both. Open your legs and ask for it.”
“Please, Daddy.” Her sneakers kick every which way. “Please.”
I look at her necklace and it’s the final straw.
Daddy’s girl.
Goddamn right.
My sperm rockets up from the deepest recesses of my loins, spewing into her quickening sex, because oh God yes, I’ve just guided her into another orgasm. Her eyes are closed and I know she’s climaxing at the possibility I’m getting her pregnant. The evidence that she’s being bred sluices down her thighs, trickling around to the cheeks of her backside. Dripping onto the floor. It pools inside of her and more is on the way, my groans deafening as I unload, hips jerking, abdomen on fire. In pain. So much pain and so much relief all at once, my fucking knees are like jelly.
“There you go. Take my load. Does that make your little tummy happy?”
“Yes,” she gasps, looking me in the eye, grinding on me with one final revolution of her hips, then going limp. “Yes. Yes.”
It takes me long minutes to breathe evenly again.
To calm the wild pace of my heart. A heart that belongs to Shea.
She is delirious and drowsy, so I lay her down on the bathroom floor and dress her, surveying the damage I did to her body as I tug her thong up around her hips, followed by her bike shorts. Her pussy is swollen from the force I used, her inner thighs streaked with my spend. She is covered in chafe marks from my clothes where they dragged against her supple skin. Am I sick to feel satisfaction over rendering this eighteen-year-old limp? Part of me is, yeah. So be it.
I’m her Daddy.
I’m her…Dominant, too, I think, though the role is new to me.
New and addictive, because it’s her that needs the firm hand. Shea.
My Shea.
I put on her sports bra next, my dick already reanimating over the firm feel of her tits. But she’s barely coherent, so instead of taking her a second time on the floor, I lift her into my arms and carry her out of the house, her legs dangling over my arm, her drowsy but adoring eyes fastened on me. My men gape at me from the doorway of the kitchen.
I ignore them. I ignore everything but her.
