Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
No, I can convince him. The truth is always the best policy.
But before I can work up the nerve, Gunner is walking into the lobby of the hotel and storming the elevator, punching in a special code to bring us to the top floor. His mouth is on mine, ravenous, and I can think of nothing, nothing, but the moments ahead…
Chapter Five
Gunner
The elevator door opens directly into the suite, but I can’t summon the willpower to stop kissing Josie and step off. I can’t believe it—this is the first time I’ve kissed her with tongue. I didn’t realize before that my hands were touching, our bodies rubbing, even our lips pressing. But we haven’t kissed properly, wetly, until now. It’s a practice for young people. Children. At least that’s what I thought before.
Now, I’m not sure how I’ve survived a single day without her whimpering mouth opening up for mine, offering her tongue like a sacrifice. Our height difference puts her much lower than me, so her head is tipped back, her fingers winding in the front of my shirt. She’s usually so smooth, so practiced in her flirting, but the kiss seems to undo her, as much as it’s undoing me, and she can’t remain balanced on her toes, stumbling sideways, trembling. Until I pick her up again and she sighs, like a happy angel, wrapping her thighs around my waist.
And we go on kissing.
I flatten her to the wall of the elevator and our tongues fuck blatantly, my hips holding her in place so my hands can roam. There isn’t a single place on her body I don’t want to touch, my smooth, sexy girl. Her legs, the beautiful planes of her face, the curves of her sides and her horny little tits. Once I’ve thumbed her nipples into tight pebbles, I tunnel my fingers through her blonde hair and pull it, making her cry out, her pussy rubbing anxiously on my cock. She might have no idea what it’s like to have sex, but she wants it all the same.
Wants it from Papa.
Bad.
Finally, I manage to walk us off the elevator, striding to the back bedroom. The man who thought about having Josie on that bed is not the same man who enters the bedroom now. We’ve only spent an hour together and I already feel…lighter. Better. Unburdened. And even though it was hell to delay the main event, I can’t be sorry about the time we spent talking. I’ve always thought Josie was incredible, smart, sensitive. She’s more, though.
She’s magic.
All those things she said about finding me desirable…I truly don’t know if she meant them or if my money goes, in part, toward her boosting my ego. At the moment, I don’t give a fuck what is lie and what is truth. I’m too hard, too horny. If she’s a liar, so be it. I’m grateful for whatever this perfect angel gives me. I’ll accept it like a beggar.
There’s a voice in the back of my head telling me that I do care if she’s lying.
That I want her to be telling the truth. That it matters. A lot.
I ignore the voice and throw her down on the bed, however, growling at the picture she makes in the T-shirt, thigh high tights and heels. Young. Fuck, she’s so young. But when she gets up on her knees and strips the T-shirt off, my conscience is nowhere to be found.
“You might as well not be wearing any panties,” I manage hoarsely, reaching out to finger the thin pink string adorning her hip, then running my touch down to the tiny soaked triangle that holds no mysteries. It molds to her cleft like a second skin and all I can think about is eating that pussy like my last meal.
Josie trails her fingertips up her ribcage and cups her tits, squeezing her nipples into even tighter peaks. “Do you want me to wear panties, Papa? You’re the one who decides.”
Jesus.
My fingers work my buttons clumsily, my palms damp. I’m already laboring to breathe. My balls are embarrassingly full, my cock curved to the right in my dress pants, harder than a goddamn metal rod. I came on her without taking my pants off last time. This time, I’ll be surprised if I make it two pumps before my body releases the flood.
You’re the one who decides, she said.
And it finally sinks in that I’m in charge. I’m paying her.
She’ll do any sinful thing I ask.
“Dance for me while I’m undressing. The way you do in the den—under my roof—when I’m not supposed to be looking.” I’m all but ripping my buttons through their holes now, getting rid of my shirt and starting on the buckle of my pants. “Do you know how many times you’ve sent me upstairs to fuck my hand, little girl?”