He slips his finger down – oh, fuck – and then slides it inside of me. My channel is soaked already, wetness seeping into my panties. He drives deep and holds his finger pinned inside of me, his breath panting hotly over my cheek.
“Fuck, your hole is so tight. You’re going to have to cream fast before I make your tight young slit sore.”
“Oh, oh,” I whimper, gripping onto his shoulders as a shudder moves through me.
It’s like a part of me is watching this moment, sitting above and looking down at this ripped alpha, every inch of him bursting with lust and muscle. And then there’s me, the curvy girl, the girl who’s never had any attention in my freaking life.
And he wants me?
Think of Millie, a voice cries, but it’s so quiet, fading beneath the volume of his desire.
I shift my hips against his hand, pumping.
“Roman, we shouldn’t…”
“I know we shouldn’t,” he snaps. “But I’m going to die unless I make you cream and taste that tight juicy hole. Do you always get this wet?”
I shake my head, unable to stop a moan from escaping me. It’s like his touch is electric, and as the rain hammers and pounds against the window, the electricity sparks through me. It matches the rhythm of the storm like I’m playing with it, as he moves his finger in fast circles around my sweet spot.
I’m aching for more, utterly at his will. Drenched.
“I asked you a question,” he snaps.
“No,” I moan. “N-never.”
“Come, Rayla. Come now. Come like the good girl you are.”
His words trigger something deep inside of me, and suddenly the pressure of this impossible man’s finger becomes too much. This shouldn’t be happening, but my body doesn’t care as my hole flutters and my body tingles.
My belly pulses, my hole aching, as an orgasm thunders into me. Lightning crackles through the house and I scream, falling back on the bed.
“Fuck, that’s it. That’s it. Give it to me, Rayla.”
“Yes, yes,” I cry, thrusting my hips as he starts to finger me faster, my pussy making wet noises as he pumps roughly.
“Fuck, I need to taste you. Keep creaming.”
I look down to find his steel-haired head dropping down between my legs. He snarls and tugs on my panties, roughly pulling them down my ankles and throwing them to the floor.
Burying his hands in my thighs, he growls and presses his face to my pussy.
Hot fire blazes across me as he opens his mouth and sucks on my clit. His tongue pushes against it as he sucks harder, pulling my clit into his mouth, enveloping me in warmth and aching euphoria.
My hips start to jerk without my permission, more thunder moving through me. I feel my juice squirting out of me, a sharp sexy feeling, as he attacks my clit with his predator’s mouth.
Shudder after shudder hammers through me.
He slides his hands around my hips and grips onto my ass, massaging as he squeezes hard. Hot sensation spreads across my skin, dancing up and down my legs.
The orgasm hammers through me and makes me tremble, and then I’m left falling back on the bed, shuddering as the aftermath makes my legs twitch.
Roman snarls and leans back, staring down at me with glistening lips.
“Taste your hot young pussy.” He leans down, bringing his lips to mine. “And moan like a horny thing as you taste yourself.”
He crushes his lips against mine, opening his mouth and dancing his tongue against mine. I taste my hot juices as he growls, letting me know he likes it. I moan like he told me to. His growling gets louder, fiercer.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he snarls, breaking off the kiss. “Your pussy’s good and ready for a hard fucking pounding now. You horny girl. I’m going to stretch that tight slit so much. Can you take a big dick, Rayla?”
I bite my lip, shaking my head, as anxiety ripples through me.
His eyes widen. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
My mind fills with an image of me telling him “nothing, baby, nothing’s wrong”. And then bending over and look at him over my shoulder, sticking my curvy ass into the air. Come and get me, Roman.
I’d sit back on his dick and shift my hips up and down, making him growl like when he kissed me. I’d pulse against him and feel his massive cock driving up inside of me, bouncing sassily and with full knowledge, he’d find me sexy.
But anxiety grips me, my mind filling with horrible futures. Like me sitting back against him and screaming no because he’s too big because I’ve never taken, never done it…
Oh, God, is he going to get angry with me?
And Millie – I have to think of Millie.
But that’s just an excuse because there’s a world where I leap at him, mount him, and sit down on his huge throbbing member. There’s a world where I grind down the length of him until he’s pinned inside of me like our bodies have fused together.
Shooting his hot seed inside of me.
I know I’ll feel it, the heat of our future, his seed tingling against my womb as we join. He’ll kiss me as I orgasm, pulsing against him, at the same moment he explodes inside of me.
“I can’t,” I whisper.
“Why?” he snaps, his voice shivering like he can barely contain himself.
It’s like any moment he’s going to leap on me and take what he deserves anyway.
What would I do if he went feral and claimed me now, threw me down, and gave me no choice? I think I’d whimper and cream all over his dick, my womb telling me I need a savage like this, a beast who’ll do anything to make me swell with his seed.
My womb is a horny needy bitch, telling me I can take him, I can take all of him.
But my heart is shivering and screaming no, it’s too soon.
“Why do you think?”
I want him to say, Millie, to be the one to draw it out into the open. I want him to take the responsibility of revealing my shameful unspoken truth because otherwise, I’ll have to face it.
“I think you need to tell me.” He brings his face closer to mine, letting me taste his breath, feel his heat. “Because otherwise, I’m going to lose control. I’ll throw you down and fuck you ragged, Rayla. I’ll stretch and tease your young tight hole. I’ll make you fucking gape as you cream, as you have multiple orgasms because your needy innocent body can’t get enough.”
“I want that,” I whimper.
“Then fucking take it.”
He darts his hand to my wrist, grabbing my hand and pulling it over to his crotch. I sit up and grip onto the front of his pants, feeling the outline of his massive cock.
“You feel how badly I need you?”
“Yes, yes,” I moan, stroking up and down, stunned by the size of him.
His massive length goes all the way down his thigh, a huge imposing weapon. Nerves rage through me when I imagine it sliding inside of me, going deeper and deeper, the pain shimmering through me.
“You’re so big,” I whisper. “Freaking hell, Roman. Is that normal?”
He chuckles darkly. “Don’t you dare stop rubbing.”
I moan and pick up speed. His cock is pulsing in his pants, as though imprisoned and trying to break free. It twitches and jerks, swelling in my hand.
“Bend over. Show me that ass. Goddamn, Rayla, I can’t wait to watch those beautiful ass cheeks bouncing against me as I’m fucking you. I’ll drill you into the bed and pommel that tight slit until you’ve got nothing left to give. Fuck, baby. You make me crazy.”
“Wait, wait,” I gasp.
He’s not going to stop unless I tell him. Unless I crack open my chest and reveal that buried secret, as I crack open that part of myself. I need to smash the magical surreal quality of this moment, an impossible moment, where my best friend’s dad is making me feel things I’ve never dreamed of.
Think of Millie. That’s what I tell myself I’m doing.
But really it’s the fear of that massive cock, of his face clouding when he realizes I don’t know w
hat I’m doing.
“I’m a virgin,” I whisper, and his face changes, turning savage.
His eyes harden and he leans back, letting out a brutal breath like he’s debating storming out of the room.
“A virgin?” he snarls. “A fucking virgin.”
“Yes,” I whimper, quivering under the sudden force in his voice.
Chapter Ten
Roman
“Are you telling me you’re not going to be able to take this cock?” I growl.
It’s all I can say. The pressure in me has become too much, my cock pulsing with uncontrollable lust. The tip of my dick is on fire with sensation, as though giving me a preview of what it’s going to be like when I come inside that tight young hole.
The way she shivered when I finger-fucked her against the bed, it’s driving me wild.
And now she’s sitting there, hair messy, face all pouty, telling me she’s a virgin. The beast inside of me howls in celebration. My balls are heavier, hungrier. My seed writhes.
“Yes,” she whispers. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” I roar, and she cringes and gasps, leaning back. “Just get those tits out and get those hands working. We’ll talk about this after. Now, Rayla.”
She whimpers like the horny thing she is like she knows she should be offended by how much of a prick I’m being, but she’s too needy and excited to pretend. She moves and pulls at the front of her robe, pulling it aside, showing me her copious tits.
Oh, those tits…
They spill free like promises, her flesh creamy, with thick juicy veins moving across the vast round surface. She’s so curvy, so full, and I can’t stop myself from reaching down and grabbing her tits.
“Horny fucking virgin,” I snarl, bringing my mouth to her breast.
I imagine squeezing her big breasts together until milk starts to leak from her nipples, and then smearing the milk all over the fleshy globes until they glimmer in the storm light.
I suck on one until it becomes perky in my mouth, hardening beautifully, and then move to the other.
She moans, goading me. The horny virgin knows what she’s going.
“You’re a fast learner, aren’t you?” I growl, looking up at her. “Has anybody ever sucked these tits before?”
Shyness skitters across her face, her teeth automatically biting her lip. She looks so fuckable, like she’s waiting for me to drive my cock into her shy little mouth until she has no choice but to suck and gag.
“I’ve never done anything,” she whispers. “With any boy. Ever.”
“Nothing?” I snarl.
“Nothing. Is that bad?”
“No, it’s not fucking bad. It’s perfect. You’re… Fuck, jerk this dick, Rayla. Make me come all over those big juicy tits. I can’t think – I can’t talk – when you’ve got those perfect juicy breasts out for me.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Get my dick out and rub it,” I growl, and she shivers again.
“Okay, yes.”
“Good girl. I like it when you do what you’re told.”
She grabs the front of my pants and pulls my cock out, gasping when the massive length springs free and bobs weightily. She grips it at the base and strokes, moving up and down, shifting her whole arm so her breasts jiggle and dance for me. My curvy horny perfect virgin.
Mine.
Forever.
And I’ll kill anybody who tries to take her.
“Is that okay?” she moans.
“That’s it, that’s it,” I growl, my cock throbbing with the sensation.
She moves faster and grips my base harder, and then time does something funny. It shifts and dances and bends until I have no idea how long she’s been rubbing me. All I can focus on is the feeling of her hand, heaven-hot against my shaft, and all I can do is stare down at her breasts bouncing for me.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I snarl.
Hot come squirts out of my swollen head and covers her breasts, so much of it gushing out, like my seed is so hungry to get inside of her it’s sending everything I have.
“Now rub them together. Make them glisten for me.”
She does as she’s told, and I stand, staring wide-eyed down at her. I’ve just covered her breasts with more come than I’ve ever produced, and yet my body is already roaring out for more. My length is already getting hard again.
“Are you sure you can’t take it?” I snarl.
She nods. “I’m sorry. It’s so fast. And you’re so big, and… do you hate me?”
“Hate you?” I kneel, so we’re eye level, and reach out and stroke my hand across her face. “This makes me want you even more. Rayla, my Rayla – I don’t think you understand.”
She stares, her lips shuddering, as blue bolts zigzag across the window lighting up the room.
“I’m claiming you. Right now. You fucking belong to me. The second I laid eyes on that curvy body, the second I saw you, something triggered inside of me. I can’t explain it. It doesn’t make any sense, but there’s a pain, a pain…”
“A pain that won’t leave you,” she whispers, when I trail off, unable to contain the atavistic possessiveness that whelms inside of me. “It’s the pain of not taking the chance.”
A smirk touches my lips when she completes the quote. “You’ve read my work.”
“I wish you’d write more.”
“Is that a taunt?”
“No, I just think you’re an amazing writer.”
“This is my chance,” I growl. “Claiming you. Taking you. I need to fuck that young fertile virgin body until you’re pregnant, and then start a family with you. That’s what I need. I can’t explain it.”
“I feel the same.” She shakes her head slowly. “I’ve had thoughts… silly thoughts, crazy thoughts—”
“Like having a family with me?”
“Yes. Yes. How did you know?”
“Because I can read you…”
Suddenly her cell phone rings from the bedside table, a Kesha song playing. And a memory strikes me – the same song playing in the living room a few weeks ago when Millie was visiting. She has her own apartment. She’s very independent. But every now and then she comes to check on her old man.
“It’s Millie, isn’t it?”
“How did you know?”
All the life has drained from Rayla’s face, as reality slams into us.
Everything we just said, everything we just shared, it’s wrong, it’s a downright fucking betrayal.
“The ringtone. I know Millie likes to use different ringtones for different people, and she’s made me change mine too. Johnny Cash. A Boy Named Sue. It was one of her favorite songs growing up, believe it or not. She heard it on the radio one day and fell in love with it.”
My voice is hollow, dread surging through me, as I think about what we just did – when I think about what I still feel, the iron certainty that Rayla is mine. But she can’t be. She already belongs to my daughter, as her best friend, the friend she’s been waiting years to meet.
She was never close with anybody in high school. She was like me when I was a kid, her head in books, dedicated to her writing. We would sit side by side and write as she grew up, but she never had a best friend.
Until Rayla.
And I’ve just ruined that.
“I’m guessing she’s done the same with you.” My voice is dead, but I want to roar. “Has she?”
Rayla nods, her eyes wide like she’s just seen a ghost. Horror is moving through her with the same speed and ferocity it moves through me.
“She’s probably just checking in. I should answer it,” she murmurs.
I step away, suddenly feeling foolish with my dick out. Even now I’m rock solid, my manhood swelling, as I stare down at those luscious delicious creamy tits.
Turning away, I pull up my pants and head for the door. “I’m going to check on Tanker. I should’ve heard him barking, but sometimes it’s good… it’s just good to make sure he’s
doing okay.”
She knows what I’m doing, making an excuse to leave, so I don’t have to listen to that Kesha song and everything it implies.
Striding down the hallway, I rearrange my manhood, the helm sticky with come, a physical reminder of how wrong this was.
As I round the corner, I hear Rayla’s voice, quiet against the backdrop of the storm. The rain hasn’t stopped hammering, drumming against the roof and the windows, like any second the whole cabin could come crashing down. But this is a well-built structure, and it can withstand way more than this.
But how much can I withstand? Can I pretend to resist her now, when I’ve already tasted her?
“Hey, Millie,” she says. “What’s up?”
Chapter Eleven
Rayla
I walk into the ensuite as I hold the cell phone out in front of me, on speakerphone. The lights automatically switch on and I walk across the sleek room, past the sauna, and grab some tissues. Dabbing at my chest, I listen to Millie – to my best friend, the woman I just betrayed.
“So it looks like I’m going to be delayed. Can you freaking believe that, Rayla? The storm is really bad. People are calling it a freak storm. It’s so annoying, and I know you must be so scared, there all alone.”
As I turn to throw the tissue down the toilet, I catch sight of myself in the reflection of the mirror. My bra is pulled down to reveal my breasts, and they still shimmer slightly with Millie’s father’s seed.
I can’t lie to her, not after what I just did, the betrayal I just participated in.
“I’m not alone,” I murmur, adjusting my bra, covering myself.
“Oh.” She pauses. “Is Dad there?”
“Yeah. He said he came here to write.”
“God, I hope he can do that, Rayla. I really do. His writer’s block is so bad. He used to be so prolific, writing eight hours a day sometimes, hammering at the keyboard and somehow making it all come out right straightaway. He was nothing like me, you know, how I have to drag myself through a scene and beat myself up about it. Do you know what he said to me once?”
Trapped with My Best Friend's Dad: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 258) Page 5