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You want her knocked up? Because it sort of seems like you’re trying to make that happen right now.
My own internal dialogue is pissing me off.
I don’t know. Maybe. Just recently I was thinking about how alone I am and always have been. Brothers don’t count. I thought maybe it wasn’t in the cards for me to feel so much I could actually bear to think about a future with someone.
Well, you might have a whole lot of future with this little minx if you don’t figure out how to control this situation.
I don’t want to control it.
She’s watching my eyes and something visceral passes between us. We’re in this together now. There’s a bond here we’re choosing to make more profound by letting this happen. By just going with how good this feels.
I paint my cum over her clit, using the silkiness of it to gently caress her. A soft moan escapes her as she barely writhes into the pleasure. My cock gets instantly rock-hard again.
When I’m satisfied, I use the warm cloth to clean some of myself from her, so I can taste her and only her. I toss the damp cloth aside, pushing her legs wider. I lean in, kissing her perfect pussy, gliding my tongue over her clit, sucking gently, then dipping my tongue inside her.
“Oh,” she gasps.
Fucking hell.
She tastes like nirvana. As sweet as honey. Like she spends her days wandering through sunny summer meadows with wildflowers blooming, while eating peaches. I don’t fucking know. All I know is that I need to feast on her.
I suck on her like she’s a ripe fruit and I’m a starving man. It’s depraved, almost, the need and greed I feel.
She squirms and moans, letting her knees fall wider.
I am so far gone. I’m whipped like nothing I’ve ever known.
I’ve been a straight-up, high-achieving, mostly-respectable workaholic my entire life. And I’ve tripled the value of my father’s and grandfather’s company, through sheer grit and hard work.
But this girl makes me want to fuck everything up. I want to mark her and claim her and fuck her with a desperation I don’t even recognize.
Ivy’s willingness only compounds my manic need. Her hands are in my hair. I play her with my tongue, easing two fingers inside her. I know she’s sore. I try to be gentle.
“Alex,” she moans.
I’m shocked by my own reaction, by how much I love that sound. Of her, calling my name, the version of it only the people closest to me use, in that dreamy exhale, like I’m a mythical creature she can’t believe. Like I’m too good to be true.
She’s starting to come, and there’s no way I can not be inside her when that happens. I climb up her body, licking and roughly sucking her rosy nipples before laying myself over her. I ease myself into her, letting the spasms of her pleasure draw me deeper, until I can’t hold back and I thrust all the way to the hilt, making her cry out.
Her snug, quivering pussy is so tight and so sweet, squeezing my cock in tight, silky pulls, until all my restraint is milked from my body, leaving me no choice. I couldn’t stop this from happening even if I tried.
I don’t try. I fully surrender to the perfect bliss of her. She feels so pure and so good, I might as well be pumping my whole soul into her along with my cum.
I kiss her as the waves begin to calm, licking into her mouth as her gasps begin to ease, smoothing her damp hair from her angel’s face. I gaze down at her with something close to rapt adoration.
I’m in real trouble here.
Because I’ve found my weakness. I already know I’ll do anything to keep her. Already, the thought of her leaving me and walking out of my life like she’s not the most magical thing in the fucking world is unbearable.
This is what I want, right here. This perfect girl. I’m addicted, besotted and obsessed.
Mine.
18
I open my eyes. I wait for the familiarity to settle, used to feeling a little unsure of my surroundings. I live in Soho now.
But I’m not in Soho. A ceiling fan circles slowly above me and everything comes rushing back.
