Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“You’re my baby girl,” I growl between kisses. “Daddy’s gonna make his baby girl come so hard, she sees fireworks.”
“Please, Daddy,” she whines, locking her legs around my hips and writhing against me. “Please don’t stop, Daddy. It feels so good.”
I tug her dress up to her hips, revealing the blue bikini bottoms hidden underneath. Fuck, she’s already soaked through them.
“You’re so fucking sexy, baby girl. Did you make all this honey for Daddy?”
“Yes,” she replies, biting her lip.
I back off the bed and spread her legs wider, dying for a closer look at what’s waiting for me beneath her swimsuit.
“I think Doctor Daddy needs a closer look,” I tell her.
“Yes, please.”
I pull the ties at her hips and then undo the knots, one at a time. My mouth waters as I peel back the scrap of fabric and come face-to-face with her pretty pussy for the second time.
“Your pussy looks perfect from here, baby girl. But I’d better taste you, just to be sure.”
She nods vigorously, then yelps as I draw her ass to the edge of the bed. I bring my face close to her center and inhale deeply. She smells so good, I’m already salivating.
“Be a good girl and try not to make too much noise.” I brush the pads of my fingertips along her slit a few times before parting her lips. She glistens in the lamplight.
I dive in, dipping my tongue into her opening and prompting her to gasp. If I thought Natasha looked sweet, I’m pleased to report that she tastes even sweeter. I wrap my arms around her thighs as I lick her clit, over and over. She trembles, moaning into her palm, trying her best to keep quiet since we’re not actually alone here.
What we’re doing here is reckless. It’s not who I am. But the threat of being caught isn’t enough to drag me away from her. Natasha deserves to feel good
I wrap my lips around her clit and suck hard. Her whole body tenses. She whines into her palm, humping my face as she shudders with the intensity of her orgasm. I lick her clit slowly, slowly, drawing out her pleasure without overstimulating her nerves.
Finally, I lift my head and meet her gaze.
“That was beautiful, baby girl.”
I climb up her body, kissing her breasts, chest, and throat, until I seal the moment with a kiss on her lips. She wraps her arms around my neck and sighs.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispers, cupping my cheek in her hand. She rocks against me from below, pressing her bare pussy to my straining cock.
I shudder from the heat radiating between us. “Fuck, baby, I need you.”
“Then take me, Daddy.”
Groaning, I roll my hips between her thighs, not caring that I’m soaking the front of my pants with her honey. I want all of it, all of her—
The sound of laughter from the hall makes us both freeze in place. Natasha’s hooded gaze instantly widens into panic.
Reality pierces the mental fog of arousal, driving me away from Natasha, who immediately begins rearranging her clothes until she’s fully covered. Her gaze finds mine, seeking reassurance that this wasn’t a mistake. But as the truth of what I’ve done washes over me, I realize I have none to give her.
I clear my throat, adjusting my shirt so that it covers my erection and the wet spot on my pants, then head for the door.
“Evan, wait,” Natasha says softly.
I hesitate in the doorway, then turn to look at her.
“You,” I murmur, “deserve more than what I can give you.”
I leave then, with a pain in my chest unlike anything I’ve ever suffered before, feeling like the worst kind of coward for walking away when I want more than anything to stay with her.
CHAPTER FIVE
EVAN
It’s difficult to avoid someone you share a house with.
Seeing Natasha in the kitchen the next morning triggers an instant replay of all the ways and places I touched and tasted her the night before. What I did to her was wrong. I won’t deny it. But the guilt I feel is a pinprick compared to the pleasure of making her come on my tongue. I steel myself as I pass her at the table on my way to the coffee pot.
“Morning,” I say quietly.
After a brief pause, she says, “Good morning, Dr. Ransom.”
I suppose I deserve that. She sips from her own mug of coffee, refusing to so much as glance in my direction. Unlike my son who refuses to put on real clothes before noon, Natasha has opted for a bright orange tank top and denim cut-offs. Her upper body is practically screaming for my attention.
“Is Oliver still asleep?” I ask, adding a splash of milk to my cup and then take my regular seat at the table.
“I assume so. His door’s still closed.”