Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 26013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
“Cuddling is very sexy.” I take hold of her bottom and secure ours laps together more tightly, loving the way she purrs at the evidence of my lust. Opens her thighs to cradle my staff, stroking me all over with her small hands, her tits buried against my chest, her hard nipples teasing right to left. “I didn’t expect to love cuddling so much.”
“Mmmm,” she says, licking into my mouth.
“You’re so smooth.” My hips flex. Roll. Pressure rising. “And loving.”
“Loving,” she repeats pressing our foreheads together. “That’s so sweet.”
Why is my heart in pain? “I’ve never been sweet.”
“You are to me.” Her petite figure writhes against mine, her hand slowly trailing down between us to encircle as much of my cock as possible, jacking my thickness once. Twice. Three firm tugs that have my eyes rolling into the back of my head. “Even when you’re pounding my little ass, you’re so big and sweet.”
“Oh God.”
She’s pumping me faster now and I tense, unable to breathe. Thoughts scrambled.
Sperm gathers in my testicles, heavy, wanting an exit.
“Do you love cuddling with me, Daddy?”
“Yes.”
“Cuddling just means I want to play.”
“Now I know,” I pant. “Now I know.”
“Tomorrow you’re going to have me again.” She winds our mouths together, but I’m still struggling to breathe. No, I’m hyperventilating, and oh lord, oh shit, she’s gripping me so tight. So tight in that perfect little hand. “Tomorrow you’ll come in my pussy.”
Pussy.
Pussy.
I don’t know this word, but instinctively, I know what she’s talking about.
The front breach.
That pink hole that no man has seen, save me.
It’s called a pussy.
The word is horny and adorable at the same time. Just like my human.
“I’m going to come, Darla. Oh fuck, I’m going to come very hard.”
“Good,” she purrs. “I love satisfying my Daddy.”
“Shit,” I choke, spurting messily into her palm, that stroking hand that continues to beat me off while I unload so much come, it seems impossible I only took her a short while ago. I groan and groan, my balls heaving up and down, in bliss, in agony, and finally, when she has rendered me empty, she curls into my heaving chest with a smile on her face, I hold her there like the priceless treasure that she is…and I dream about tomorrow with my tiny human. I refuse to acknowledge that I only have one day with her.
That a declaration of her love is all that can keep me here.
No. I can’t think about that yet.
Or how impossible that dream seems.
Five
Darla
Iwake up to the sound of my phone ringing.
Opening my eyes is a hassle. Don’t wanna. Moby’s big, strong arms around me. I’m deliciously warm. This is the most comfortable I have ever been in my life. Which is unusual, because my leg is usually throbbing by the time I wake up. I’ve either slept in an odd position, or my leg has been stationary too long. For whatever reason, my leg isn’t bothering me this morning. Not at all.
I fight through the desire to fall back asleep, open my eyes and take stock of my position. To my astonishment, I see that there are two pillows bunched under my knee and Moby’s hand is resting on my scar tissue, massaging the spot. Even though he’s snoring.
Buttery warmth spreads in my chest, and I wiggle my toes happily. Sure, my body is sore in other places from my rough introduction to lovemaking, but those twinges and throbs pale in comparison to how my leg usually feels upon waking. Moby might be a demanding lover, but he is thoughtful. Caring.
I decide to wake him up with kisses.
Feeling giddy, I twist to face him—
My phone rings again.
That’s right. My phone.
Inwardly groaning, I snatch the device of my bedside table, an ominous feeling settling in my belly when I see my mother’s name on the screen. Not to mention, it’s ten fifteen. Wow. I can’t remember ever sleeping this late in my life. My parents are early risers, and they instilled the same routine in me. Early bird gets the worm, Darla!
Until last night, until the freedom of running off alone with Moby, I didn’t realize how docile I’ve become since the accident. Did my parents take advantage of that by pulling me further and further under their control?
Troubled, I tap the green icon and bring the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Darla,” my mother says in a scolding tone. “Where are you? We’re breakfasting by the pool, as outlined on the itinerary. Yet you are nowhere to be seen.”
Breakfast by the pool. Right. Ugh. “I overslept.”
My mother makes an artform out of sighing. “How disappointing that you can’t adhere to a simple schedule, Darla. Honestly.”
Moby’s form stiffens at my back. His chest vibrates with a low growl.
“Um,” I say quickly, trying to drown him out. “I’ll get dressed and come down as soon as I can.”