Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 934(@200wpm)___ 747(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
“But I’m her daddy so I need to be responsible. I can’t be fucking reckless like she is,” he smacks my ass again to emphasize his point, “I can’t let her run around with a big load of my cum in her fertile cunt. She’s getting married soon and I can’t ruin her life like that, by tying her to me. And that alone is pissing me the fuck off, that I can’t have what I want, her swollen belly and milky tits. That I have to control myself and pull out of her sweetheart snatch so I don’t accidentally get her pregnant. So to make myself feel better and to keep her happy, I come in her asshole. Which I’m going to do in about two point five seconds. And if, in the process, you get a flash of her tight asshole or God forbid her sweet pussy hole that I’m fucking right now, that’ll be the last thing you see. You already got an eyeful of her tits before I covered them up so if you want to save your life,” he punctuates that with a harsh pound, “look the fuck away from my girl and let me fuck her in peace.”
Of course.
Of course they can’t see anything.
As in, they can see he’s fucking me but they can’t see anything on my body. Because he’s protecting me. I bet he pushed my dress down which is now fluttering around mid-thighs and he wrapped his arm over my swollen, jiggling tits, hiding them from their eyes.
Good.
Even though I don’t care that they’re looking, I still don’t want them to actually get a look at what only belongs to him. And just because they’re still frozen, I moan, “Please, please go away. Or my daddy won’t come inside of me. And I want him to come inside of me. I want my daddy’s cum. I want my daddy. Please.”
Which is very ironic because that’s the moment I come.
I clench around his hard pounding length and writhe against him. And through my own moans and whines, I hear the shuffling of feet and muttered, did you hear that? Was he really her daddy…
But everything once again fades out because he chooses that very moment to pull out of me and push into my asshole – just the tip of his dick – and give me his cum.
And again, I wonder what if I tell him he doesn’t have to love me back?
What if when I tell him my secret after the championship game, I also tell him that I’ll take him however he comes. I don’t even want to know his secret if he doesn’t want to tell me.
All I want is him.
Chapter 16
The Wildfire Thorn
Three weeks later…
The things that provoke you to react are often called triggers.
The list of my triggers has always been long. So long that I’ve them put in two separate categories. The one that’s I’m facing right now is number five on the high concern list: losing focus.
My queen is trapped.
I don’t think I can save her. I could, two moves ago, but now all hope is lost. And it’s because I wasn’t paying attention.
These days I often find myself in a position like this.
I forget meeting notes. I find myself staring out the window instead of paying attention to the plays. Sometimes I’ll start a sentence and then completely forget where I was going with it. The other day I overfilled my water bottle at the water fountain twice before giving up and grabbing a soda from the vending machine. I run into people while walking as if I’ve forgotten how to walk.
And whenever something like this would happen, I used to panic.
I used to withdraw into myself.
I used to think that the world was going to end.
That I was going to do something to make it end.
These days though, I think about her.
My grounding object.
Her shiny hair on the pillow. Her skin when the sun hits her. Her small fingers when she tries to catch the snow in her hands. My jackets on her body that always tend to drown her. Those two dimples on her back that I’ve licked countless times, that mole, the crack of her gorgeous ass.
Her languid eyes when I’ve made her come. Her eyes when she sees the rose on her pillow. Her eyes when she feeds it to me, all joyful and lusty. Her eyes when she laughs at something I’ve said that’s completely not funny like, can you shut the fuck up and let me suck your tits?
Her excited voice when she talks about her plays, her characters. The way she brings her character to life when we run lines. The way her features shine when she makes me watch her favorite movies.
Her excitement when I read to her.