“God, you’re a fucking dream, Jess. Everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”

  He lets my tits go and then steps back, tipping his chin at me. “Everything off.”

  I nod up at him again and wriggle out of my girl boxers until I’m standing there naked in front of him. Bare and vulnerable.

  He takes a second, studying me top to toe. His eyes slide hungrily over my tits, my curves, my belly. And he smiles, shaking his head. “I’m going to make you cum until you cry.”

  His cock catches my eye again, standing straight and proud and throbbing. But before I can take it in my hands again, he grabs me by the hips and turns me, forcing me down to all fours on the blue cushion of the chaise lounge.

  For a long moment, nothing happens. The wind catches the blooming sage, the sound of seagulls in the distance. But no touch, no growl, no demands.

  I look back over my shoulder slowly, and there I see him watching me, studying me, halfway crouched down behind my pussy. Studying me. Memorizing me. My pussy, my hips, my ass.

  I feel so exposed, so vulnerable, that I have a powerful urge to drop my hips and tuck into a ball. Maybe even to take off running again.

  But when his eyes meet mine, there’s warmth there. Paternal, protective warmth. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I let out something between a laugh and sob, full of gratitude and relief. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Fucking really. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to wreck that perfect pussy, we clear?”

  I swallow hard and watch him work his length. God, that cock. How will I ever take all of that cock inside me?

  I am quivering with anticipation, with need. I’m so nervous I feel the world swimming around me, but I don’t want to miss a moment of this. I want it all to be locked into my memory forever. And so I take a deep breath, and still my thoughts, and let my face press softly into the cushion. As I get ready to become his.

  He takes a step forward, placing his fingertip at my opening, but not penetrating me yet. “You’re a juicy little peach, Jess.” He traces a line through my opening, letting the pad of his finger linger on my clit, teasing and certain and intense.

  I feel so vulnerable again. The wind catches the trees and makes my nipples pucker, cooling the wetness on my pussy and thighs. I suddenly feel so much younger than my eighteen years, and I slip my arm over my breasts to shield myself, even just a little.

  Mike clicks his tongue. “Nope.” He gently but firmly moves my hand aside, placing it on the cushion.

  The touch of his skin on mine, it brings me so much confidence. So much security. “Okay,” I whisper back. “Whatever you say, Daddy.”

  He growls out a response before he says a word. “God, Jess. I don’t know if I want to worship you or tear your apart. Or both.”

  My toes curl again, so hard that my feet cramp once more. “Yeah?”

  “Fuck. Look at those fucking toes curl,” he growls again.

  And I can’t help it but laugh, sultry and relieved into the cushion. Because for as much as he scares me, he also makes me feel so safe. And so good. And like everything is going to be alright.

  I feel less vulnerable than ever, and I lift my head from the cushion. I look back at him, smiling, and sway my hips to show off. “Please, Daddy.”

  “You’re beautiful when you say please.”

  He takes another step forward, letting his cock rest between my legs, letting the shaft part my folds. Not penetrating, not yet, but just… pushing. Resting. Letting me get used to him being close. Then with two fingers he dips into my opening, watching me all the time. “Just want to see what we’re up against here.”

  I don’t know what that means, not exactly. Unless I do.

  He groans again. “Gonna be fucking tight. So we better warm you up properly first.”

  “Anything,” I manage to say through my hazy desire, “Anything you want.”

  In one powerful movement, he hooks his arm around my hips and hoists me up in his arms, my back to his massive chest. He carries me a few feet away, and places me on top of the table where he was working yesterday when I was teasing him out here. It’s a massive wooden thing, with slatted wood pieces on a circular tabletop.

  He lays me down on the table, face up, with my heels just at the edge of the wooden surface.

  Then he grabs the chair where he was sitting, and pulls it up between my legs, and takes a seat.

  “Time for Daddy to eat, baby girl,” he growls, without ever taking his eyes off my folds.

  My body rolls with a surge of desire and excitement, so powerful that it I can feel it right down in my bones. I want him. I adore him. I need him.

  And I can’t believe this is happening.

  He kisses the insides of my thighs, nice and slow. First the right side.

  Then the left.

  And then back again.

  And once again I have that out of body feeling, floating above us. Watching us from above. I can’t believe that this is happening.

  I can’t believe that Mike and I are doing this. Together. Finally.

  His thick stubble tickles the soft skin of my inner thighs. I reach down, running my fingers through his thick dark hair. Noticing the beautiful lines at the corners of his eyes. The years of emotion. The experience. The wisdom. That just makes me melt.

  He takes my knees now, shoving them back. It surprises me and I let out a gap that turns into a yelp. He doesn’t relent, doesn’t hesitate, and pushes me wide open.

  But then takes another long moment. While he studies me like art all over again.

  And he stays there.

  Breathing. Growling. Wanting. All because of me.

  But with every passing second, I feel my courage start to fall away. There’s no way I can do this. I’m not ready. I’m not even close to ready.

  In all my fantasies about Mike, all my crazy dreamy thoughts, I never thought about this. Here. His power, his force. My fear. My innocence.

  My body shakes uncontrollably as he gets closer and runs his fingertips up my clit.

  “All your life I’ve looked after you, Jess. As long as I’ve known you, I’ve wanted to protect you. To love you. To have you right in the center of my life.”

  My heart nearly bursts at the way he’s looking at me. But it feels so good that it feels impossible. Like this is all some crazy, impossible dream.

  I savor the dream. Real or not, this is what I need and what I want. And for the first time in my life, I feel wildly, powerfully, genuinely beautiful.

  The dappled light spills down onto us from between the leaves of the ashes above. The warm breeze shifts back and forth, making the little clumps of pampas grass sway. And now I focus in on his handsome face, his serious eyes. The determined intensity of his expression.

  He parts my folds and sucks my clit into his mouth. My back arches up off the table. It’s so sensitive, I almost shove him away. My hips wriggle, my body twists, and I try to get away. But he’s much stronger than I am—much—and he pins me down on the table. Making me accept him. Making me let go.

  He moves his tongue over my opening, exploring my folds, tasting my wetness. I grip his wide shoulders with my hands. Wondering if I might be about to come already.

  “You’re mine now, Jess. And there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it.”

  He licks his lips and wipes his face on my inner thigh. In his eyes, there’s something brand new. Ownership. Pride. Mine.

  He goes for me again. Eating me out, going like crazy, devouring me like a starving man. He fucks my opening with my tongue and slips his big finger inside me. I feel the resistance of my hymen pushing back at him. And the pain of it, it makes my vision flicker, my hearing sharpen, the world come into ultra-fine focus

  Could anything be better than this?

  I don’t know. But I very, very much doubt it.

  He’s so skilled with his tongue. I just let myself imagine himself doing this before, with other women, before my mind says no, none of that. Because it’s just us, him and me. For as long as we can. How can anything feel so good? It’s impossible. Unthinkable. But this magic is happening. And it is happening between my own legs.

  He slurps and sucks and licks, lewd and unapologetic. “This fucking pussy. It’s like heaven itself.”

  I raise my head from the table. “Really?”

  And he goes in for another round, nodding into my folds.

  Now he grabs my tits, pinching the nipples again, eating me out and working my breasts with something like rage. I let myself relax into this magical place, seeing flickering lights and twinkling stars, in the morning light.

  His tongue pushes into my body, and then back to my clit, and my whole heart throbs with yes.

  I reach out for him to steady myself and he spreads me even wider. I am so bare, so exposed, so vulnerable. But I am not shy about it. Not embarrassed. He is everything I’ve ever needed and I am so very happy to get lost in him, in us, together.

  I look down and see his happiness, his focus, his power. I roll my hips into him, begging for more, and more, and more. And he gives more, until it feels like we are merging into one.

  He pulls away for a breath. “Alright, baby girl. Give me that come. Don’t you dare fucking hold back.”

  Once again he goes into me, tongue deeper, pushing against my walls. It is heaven, and then it is heaven squared.

  He is so good at this. He is so determined to give me pleasure that it takes my breath away.

  His tongue slows, but the pressure intensifies. He pushes his finger in further, testing my hymen again, and I cry out a scream of pleasure and need and pain, wanting this release, wanting to dissolve into his mouth and hands.

  And now I am spinning and spiraling. It is happening and it is happening on his tongue. Total peace, total pleasure. I am myself and then I am us. And I know that there is no way I can ever live without this ever again.

  He takes my hips in his massive hands and steadies my writhing body with his mouth. One more wave of pleasure starts to bubble up before I break, and I squeeze his face hard with my thighs.

  Pleasure tangles up inside me and then…

  Release. Explosion. Crescendo into a new thing I have never felt before.

  He licks me through it, through my screams and writhes, and his movements mirror mine as my pleasure softens and evens out.

  My entire body is warm now, not hot, both inside and out. And he stays right there between my legs, kissing my pussy gently now, bringing me back to earth.

  I grip the edge of the table hard, still with my mind and body shivering and spiraling. My ears squeal, my heart thumps in my chest. I feel my heartbeat in every muscle, every fiber.

  I find my way up on to my elbows, and look down at him, only to find him smiling up at me.

  I am woozy with coming. The world is spinning and far away. “This makes that wine-a-rita look like a joke.”

  Mike laughs, coming up to standing, knitting his hand in mine. “Lie down. Relax. Catch your breath.”

  I give his hand a squeeze and look up at the sky. Then he steps forward and scoops me up into his arms, and carries me gently across the pool deck, as though I’m light as a feather. I wrap my arms around him, feeling safe and secure, and very slowly he steps down into the pool, letting the water take my weight.

  I sigh out a gasp of pleasure as the warm water touches my nakedness.

  “You know, earlier? When you ran from me?”

  I open my eyes slowly, squinting a little bit in the dappled sun. “Yes.”

  He shakes his head, looking serious.

  “I never want that to happen ever again. I never want you afraid of me. Not like that. And if you run, I want you to run toward me. Always. Is that understood?”

  Oh, my heart. This ache in my heart. I let my eyes close slowly and smile.

  “Yes, Daddy. Understood.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Mike

  I carry her from the pool, wrapped up in a towel, and bring her inside. She feels like fucking heaven itself in my arms. Like she was always meant to be there.

  I place her right in the middle of the bed, pillows behind her head. And then I place my knees on either side of her, pinning her down, letting her feel my weight.

  I can’t tell if she’s scared or excited. And I can’t tell if I want her to be scared or excited. Maybe I want fucking both.

  “I’m nervous,” she whispers, looking up at me.

  “But do you want it, baby girl?”

  “Yeah,” she says, on a whisper. “Yes, Daddy. I do.”

  Fuck. Fuck me and this Daddy thing. Never in my life has a word sounded so sweet, so right.

  I let her feel the weight of my cock, the pressure of it against her pussy, still damp from the pool.

  “You might regret it, baby. You think you can handle this dick?”

  She paws at me, a new hunger in her eyes, a new intensity. Baby girl’s finding her power. No fucking doubt. But I pin her hands back, holding her little wrists tight, feeling her pulse pound on my palm. As I do, I feel her wetness intensify against my shaft, and I let out a groan. A primal fucking groan like I’ve never heard myself make before.

  “Tell me about what you’ve done before, baby. Tell me how many boys have made you come.”

  Even as I ask it, I feel the rage build inside me. There’s a real possibility I’ll kill every one of the fuckers if she gives me names.

  “Nobody has, Daddy. Nobody until you, last night and today. I said, this is my first everything.”

  Shit. Fucking shit. I lean down and kiss her, sweeping her tongue aside. “Sweet as cream and just as pure.”

  She laughs into another kiss. “Maybe. Until today.”

  I’m so hard that I’m fucking spinning with it, rolling on it, high as a fucking addict for her. I’d do anything to get to her pussy now. Blow up buildings. Destroy business deals. Even fucking sabotage old friendships. Because all that matters is her.

  “Mine. All fucking mine.”

  I press a kiss to her forehead, feeling halfway fucking guilty for what I’m about to do. But not that guilty. Because I’m about to take her cherry and I’ve never been so smug about anything in my life.

  I nudge my dick into her wet hole, pushing past her initial tightness until she begins to welcome me in.

  She swallows hard, and I see the uncertainty in her eyes.

  “Is it going to hurt, Daddy?”

  Fuck she’s so sweet, so tender. “A little, baby. But only a little.”

  She nods obediently up at me, her long lashes dusting her sun kissed cheeks.

  Her innocence, her uncertainty, it just makes me want her more. From this point forward, there’s no way she can stop me. And once I’m inside her, nothing will stop me from shooting my load inside her. Where it fucking belongs.

  My need for her runs deep; I feel it my gut, in my muscles, in the blood in my veins. I need to feel her. I need to fuck her. I need to make her mine.

  Still keeping my cock at her opening, I take one of her sweet tits in my mouth. Nipples the color of cinnamon. Skin like milk. Her areola puckers under my lips, changing shape, the same as her clit did when I was sucking her into orgasm earlier.

  As I suckle her, her nervousness starts to recede. And she legs her legs fall open wider, sighing with her cheek against mine.

  Suckling her tits, I can’t help but imagine what this would be like if she were making milk for my fucking child.

  But hold up, hold up. Not would be, I realize. Will like. Because there is no universe in which I don’t knock her up, and keep her that way, because I want to drink milk from these cinnamon tits forever.

  God, the fucking thought of that. Her. With my baby. Making my milk. I feel it in my balls, my fucking cock, and my goddamned heart.

  She writhes under me, nipples sensitive, tits tight and firm. She paws for my face, sweet little fingertips against my stubble. And I let her tit pop from my mouth and come up for a kiss.

  As I kiss her, I adjust the position of my cock at her opening. I nudge aside her flesh with the tip of my cock, parting her lips with my fingers, getting into position to press into her. And to make her a woman for real.

  But even as much as I want her, I could stay here forever, kissing her deep, caging her in, pinning her with my dick. The scent of her wetness intensifies, filling the room with sweet salty sticky need.

  The longer I stay like this, kissing her, making her wait, the more she writhes, and the harder she digs her fingernails into my shoulder.

  And fuck, I like that. Making her beg, not with words, but with writhes and digs and sighs.

  “Don’t make me wait anymore,” she hisses, sounding more vulnerable but also bossy. Needy and a little bratty too.

  I inhale and pull away from the kiss. Then pull my dick out from her opening. I shake my head down at her.

  “Rule one. It’s my cock and I decide. You don’t fucking decide. This is my dick. And you are mine. And it’s that fucking simple. We clear?”

  Her eyes flash, shocked with it. But then her pupils dilate—the dopamine rush. “Yes, Daddy. We’re clear.”

  I pinch her cheeks a little and kiss her again. “Good girl. Wait. Be patient. Don’t be a brat. And you’ll be rewarded soon.”

  I make my way back down her body, resisting the very real, very primal urge to just power-fuck her here and now. I want to make this last. I want to make her hungry. And when I do finally push into that tight little virgin hole, I want it so fucking ready for me that she’s damn near coming on my cock as I take her virgin blood.

  I get down between her legs, keeping her thighs parted wide, holding her firmly enough to make handprints in her flesh.

  I kiss her pussy again, watching her blush. Watching her squirm. She tastes different now, from the chlorine from the pool, and I don’t like it. I want her taste, just her, with no fucking bullshit in between. So I lick her clean, lick her wet, lick her until she starts dripping for me again.

  And with every pant and plead, my balls fucking throb.

  I take my time, going slow, teasing, and stretching and twirling her clit with my tongue. I suck it into my mouth, teasing it with my teeth until she yelps. Then I let it go, and on the heels of the pain I tell her something she better not fucking forget.