His Father

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His Father Page 6

by A. E. Murphy


  There’s a gentle knock on the door. I move to it, my camera hanging around my neck.

  I’m relieved to see she has washed and dried her hair, it’s floating in thick curtains of dark brown around her shoulders. There’s no makeup on her face and there’s nothing but a fluffy towel around her body which she’s holding onto for dear life.

  This is insane. I can’t believe we’re doing this.

  She takes in the setup, the thick, cream fur rug on the ground by the window which has an even better view of Malibu than the garden.

  “Don’t be nervous,” I assure her, unsure on how to approach her.

  “I’m not,” she lies and gulps audibly. “Where do you want me?”

  Over my bed, on the floor, on all fours, on my face.

  “On… On the rug, just there.” I point and move the tripod out of the way.

  I turn away when she starts to unwrap the towel. I hear it drop on the floor and bite hard on my lip.

  “Shall I lie down?”

  “Please,” I reply and inhale a deep breath before looking at her.

  She sits on her side first, her legs bent as she takes in the view, her back to me as the sun finally starts to set.

  “Wait,” I bark when she starts to move. I take a couple of shots of her just like that. I never take so many shots. I line up the perfect ones and click. There’s something about her that has me wanting to capture every single angle of her physical soul. “Okay, lie down.”

  I push my fist into my mouth to stop myself from groaning when I see it all. All of her beautiful body, every naked inch of flesh that I so badly wanted to see last night but couldn’t allow myself the pleasure.

  Her round breasts are soft against her chest which rises and falls slowly. Her bare mound is slightly hidden by her leg which is raised higher than the other, a subconscious way of offering herself a little modesty.

  I want to part her thighs and slot myself between them.

  I stand on the stepladder to get a bit of height over her but it’s not right. The lighting isn’t catching her body the way it did before. The picture isn’t perfect, not that her body isn’t perfect. I’ve never seen a nicer body. I’ve never craved a nicer body.

  “I’ll be just a moment,” I whisper softly and she bites her lip much like I just did. Her eyes don’t meet mine.

  I grab what I need and race back to her, praying she hasn’t moved, praying the sunset hasn’t suddenly vanished. It’s a ridiculous thought but one I can’t help. I have just a short amount of time to get this right.

  “Take your time,” she mumbles playfully and then grins at me. Her face is so beautiful, her soft features and tilted wide eyes, her near symmetrical face, her hazel-green eyes. All of it the perfect combination.

  “Sorry.” I raise the bottle of body oil and bag of ice

  “What are you doing?” She doesn’t look happy to see the props.

  “It’s for the shot,” I reply but I’m not so sure it is. “It smells like strawberries.” Tastes like it too but I leave that part out.

  I squirt the oil on her chest and midriff and she murmurs a breathy, “Oh my God.”

  “Do you want to do the honors?”

  “Duh.” She rubs it in herself and it’s even more erotic than watching her with the suntan lotion. “This is just so fucking random.” I smile at her and her eyes scan my face. “Promise me you won’t post these all over the internet.”

  “On my honor,” I reply, taking an ice cube out of the bag when she lies back down. I don’t ask her permission this time, because I’m not thinking. Because I’m an idiot. A crafty, clever idiot.

  I roll the ice cube over her left nipple where the tiny silver balls of her piercing peek out of the sides. The ice cube catches it gently and I have to fight the urge to tease it with my tongue.

  She gasps at the contact and swallows before blowing out a breath between her parted lips.

  I’m getting hard again.

  She watches me as I lose myself, totally transfixed by the way her nipple tightens and extends.

  I lower my head and hear her breath catch in her throat when I start to blow on her, to dry the water that’s rolling down the oily sheen that really does smell like strawberries. The oil was a gift that I got in a bag from an event I attended last year. I thought it was stupid but it really has come in handy.

  When I move the ice cube to her other nipple she grabs my wrist and squirms while saying, “This is starting to feel less artistic and more like foreplay.”

  She said foreplay.

  I snap back into the now.

  I quickly stand, climb the small ladder and take the shots with both of my cameras.

  She moves her body how I ask, just little adjustments here and there as I get the perfect images. It’s better than expected. Her pebbled nipples, her wide eyes holding arousal, her lips swollen and parted as though waiting for a kiss. Her incredible, bare pussy that I want to touch.

  I get plenty of incredible shots but I want more, so many more and there’s just one part of her that she’s missed.

  I take the oil again as she fans out her hair and squeeze it onto the part of thigh that doesn’t hold the same sheen the rest of her body does.

  She jolts and frowns at me. “What are you doing?”

  “The sun’s about to set, we missed a spot.” I don’t wait for permission, I place my hand on her thigh and rub.

  A gasped breath releases from between her parted lips as she watches what I’m doing.

  Tempest

  His hand gently massages the oil in, even after the spot I missed is covered. He’s in a trance like before when he was teasing my nipples.

  I’m aroused and his hand is not helping.

  He’s getting higher and higher, completely abandoning his camera to use his other hand to lean on as he strokes my inner thigh.

  When his finger gets so close I can feel the heat of it against my rapidly moistening sex, my eyes flutter closed and I moan. I try to stop myself but it’s too intense. There’s too much of everything happening. I want him to touch me. More than I’ve ever wanted to be touched.

  Then his hand goes back down, past my knee. I feel almost disappointed until it starts coming back up again.

  He doesn’t try to make eye contact, I’m glad. I’m in a happy little bubble right now. My body is responding in ways it never has for anyone.

  “Jesus,” he whispers when he finally makes contact and slips his finger into the wetness between my thighs. I whimper, shifting on the soft rug as he drags the moisture to my clitoris and rolls it gently, only quickening his pace when I shudder.

  I reach out and grab his bare arm as my aching, clenching, and burning body writhes from his touch alone.

  “Please,” I beg on a whisper, aching to be filled, touched more, something. Anything.

  When his mouth closes around my pierced nipple and his tongue rolls around it I grip the fur rug and come undone.

  My orgasm gently rolls through me in a way I can’t control. I’ve never orgasmed through just clitoral stimulation before and it’s insanely amazing. It burns inside in a way that it never has. I feel like I want to fill it but also not because of how crazy it feels.

  I hear a click which brings me back to where I am and who I’m with.

  I sit up and look at him in the dark, his camera in hand. The sun must have set. I didn’t even notice.

  His eyes scan my face, my neck, my body. His pupils are dilated in a way I know he’s as aroused as I am.

  We breathe heavily, staring at each other in a way we haven’t before. His surprise mirrors my own. His arousal too.

  I watch him start to lean over me, as if readying himself for my kiss.

  I’m about to demand he fuck me and forget the foreplay when we both hear a very loud, “Dad? You up there?”

  A panicked look comes over his features and I see a realization dawn in his eyes. The same panic and sudden realization comes over me too.

  I’m naked in Maddo
x’s dad’s room!

  I’m not sure he’d approve, in fact, I know he won’t. Maddox is the most important person in my life, what am I doing?

  “Go,” I hiss at him and he stands.

  “Coming,” he calls to Maddox and finally leaves, giving me one last lingering look from the door.

  I scramble to collect my towel and when I’m certain the coast is clear, I slip out of his room and creep all the way downstairs to my own.

  Tempest

  At breakfast the men are about to leave together, I had thought they’d already gone but it just seems they’re both being extra quiet today.

  Sargent seems to be even less approachable than usual and I worry that it’s because of what happened between us.

  I try to sneak past them so I don’t have to approach Sargent when last night is still all I can think about. I’ve never come so hard on somebody before. He manipulated my body with such skill and gentleness that I didn’t ever want it to stop.

  I’m thinking about it again. I told myself I wouldn’t.

  “I should be home around three and Dad’s giving me an advance so we’ll go and get you some new clothes.”

  I cringe, feeling embarrassed that he had to even say that, especially in front of his dad who already thinks I’m a walking charity case. “Maddox.” I stammer to find the right words to follow. “I’m so sorry you feel like you have to provide for me. You should just send me back to England.”

  “Without me? Not a chance.” He grins and I daren’t even glance his father’s way. “Be ready at three, I’ll pick you up.”

  “You’re not taking me shopping, I have clothes enough to last until I earn some more money. Besides, if Devon was being legit, that won’t be too much longer.”

  “You’re not working for Devon.”

  Both Maddox and I look at Sargent who has angrily declared this statement to me. Directly to me.

  My eyes catch his which are full of fire and determination.

  “Why not?” I ask indignantly. “I need a job and the chance of anybody else hiring me in town when I only have a temporary visa is very minimal.”

  He looks at his watch and nods at Maddox. “We have to go. We’ll discuss this later.”

  “You can’t just tell me what I’m not doing and then walk away. I said yes to the job, it’s rude to back out.”

  He doesn’t reply and Maddox only shoots me an apologetic smile before stepping out of the house.

  They leave me alone for the day, feeling frustrated.

  I do what I can around the house but there’s very little to do, so I swim, sunbathe, exercise, ruin exercise by eating crisps, watch a movie, have a shower, and then look around the storage corner in the garage for some paints. I’m itching to get creative. Even if I have to take the paints all the way out to the countryside.

  Unfortunately, there are no paints or canvases anywhere.

  Maddox returns at three as expected but we don’t go into town as he gets a call from an old friend and decides to meet them instead. He does invite me but I don’t want to cramp his style, so I assure him it’s fine; he can go and when he does I flop down onto the couch face-first and stay there until I fall asleep.

  Sargent

  Her legs are so long considering how short she seems to me. She’s stretched out on her belly on the couch, snoring so gently. Her hair is damp and braided again, it’s her signature look. One that suits her.

  I remember the days I could sleep like that on a couch and it not bother my body. Even though I’m in great shape, better shape than I was at her age, I couldn’t do that now.

  I’m about to wake her when she rolls over and tosses her hand over her eyes. Her shirt has risen giving me a glimpse of her stomach. It reminds me of last night and how easily she came undone on my hand. Her stomach tightened and quivered as her orgasm built. That piercing called to me, I needed to feel it, tease it, tease her. God, I’m hard. If Maddox hadn’t come home I’d have tossed her onto my bed and ravished her.

  I want to right now but she’s sleeping.

  “Tempest.” I whisper the name that suits her so well and crouch beside her in the dark, leaning on one knee on the floor by her shoulder.

  My fingers touch her face, tracing the shape of her defined, shapely brows, the smooth curve of her cheekbones, the sharp edge of her jaw, then her lips. My thumb gently pulls on her bottom lip and releases it, making it ping back into place. It trembles with her next breath, making me smile secretly as I trace her chin, the underside, and then place a kiss on the dip in her throat.

  I touch another in the space above it, then another, and another until my tongue dares to taste her skin. She’s fresh, clean, and smells like soap but she tastes sweet. I suck the lobe of her ear into my mouth when I hear her breath hitch. She’s not quite awake but I don’t think she’s fully sleeping either.

  I dare to caress her thigh again, the inside of the leg closest, where her skin is the smoothest.

  She starts to whimper in her sleep but it’s not the sound of pleasure, it’s the sound of pain. There’s a distinct change in her body language as she tenses, clamping her thighs down on my hand.

  “No, no, please,” she begs, and my spine stiffens. I pull my hand from between her thighs as she starts to shake her head, her eyes still closed. “Don’t, please. Please. Stop.”

  What the fuck?

  “Tempest,” I say, louder this time. My hands hover above her as she writhes in her sleep, warding away some unknown monster. “Tempest?”

  “No! Let go of me!”

  I grab her shoulders and shake until her eyes fly open, tears swimming in them. She blinks rapidly and looks around sleepily but still tearfully. The tears fall as she takes me in, terror slowly melting from her body.

  “Are you okay?” I ask softly, unsure on how to approach this.

  “Where am I?” she grumbles, pulling herself to sitting so the arm of the couch is at her back. “What time is it?”

  “It’s a little after nine, I just got home. Are you okay?”

  Her lower lip trembles, but not like before. She shakes her head. “No.”

  I wasn’t expecting that answer; most people would lie about their feelings. Not Tempest. “Was it a bad dream?”

  “It wasn’t a dream,” she replies so quietly I hardly hear it. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

  “Talk to me,” I implore, wanting to take away this pain and turmoil in her eyes. She’s normally so happy, if not fiery, but still always happy. “Did somebody hurt you?”

  “Yes.” Again, I wasn’t expecting the honesty.

  “Who?”

  She wipes her eyes on the back of her hands and replies simply, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  I sit on the couch beside her, unsure on whether or not I should reach for her or call Maddox. Instead I think of the only thing I know that could help in this moment. “Tequila?”

  Her smile returns but it doesn’t meet her eyes. “That will be yet another thing on the list of things I owe you.”

  That hits me where it hurts because that’s not ever how I’ve felt. “Tempest…”

  “No, I mean, I’ll pay you back for everything. Honestly. I’m not a freeloader. I’ve earned every penny I’ve spent to date. I would never have come if it weren’t for having that job and then I got fired. I’ve never been fired.”

  She’s rambling. How do I make her stop rambling?

  More tears fall from her eyes. How do I stop that too?

  “And Maddox, he’s great, he’ll give me as much money as he can but I’ve never let him. Ask him yourself. I never have and never will take his money, your money… whatever… God… I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me; I’m a mess. I bet this is what you were dreading, seeing me in your hallway I feel so fucking hel—”

  God forgive me but she tastes so fucking sweet.

  I crush my lips against hers, making her squeak with surprise. Making myself groan as she accepts me so willingly, tangling her tong
ue with mine perfectly. I grip her around the back of her neck holding her to me as I pull her closer, forcing her to slide her leg over my lap until she’s straddling me.

  Her fingers push through my hair, it feels incredible and sends tingles down my spine and straight to my dick.

  When she releases my mouth for a breath I kiss her throat, her collar, then yank down the front of her shirt, popping out the pierced breast so I can suck it into my mouth.

  She gasps, and that goes straight to my cock too.

  Her body is so slender in my arms, so light on my lap, so fragile and breakable. I touch her gently, tickling her skin before cupping her rear and lifting her.

  We kiss again, our lips connecting clumsily as I carry her to her room, stumbling on my shoes as I kick them off, tripping on my pants as I shove them down when she pushes her bedroom door closed behind us. Reaching over my shoulder with her hand.

  I let go of her and she drops to the ground, gasping when I shove her a little harder than intended onto her bed.

  She giggles but it stops when I rid her of her shorts, pull her top from over her head and rip her thong from her body with one hand. It snaps. I feel so primal and masculine right now. I’ve never felt this way before.

  “Go easy on the clothing, I literally have none.” She smirks at me in the dark and watches me with wild eyes when I stroke myself, standing over her, shirtless, pants off, donning just my CK boxer briefs. The way she takes me in and the way her eyes widen at my size has me chuckling. She’s like a little rabbit caught in headlights.

  She pulls back as though trying to escape me so I grab her ankle and drag her to the end of the bed. When she laughs again I kneel and kiss her side, tasting each dip of her rib with my tongue and lips. It has her grabbing at my head, jerking and moaning. Jesus, this girl is reacting like a virgin. Has she ever been touched like this?

  I push a finger into her to be sure and there’s no barrier but fuck she’s so tight. Her head falls back as her juices soak my hand and my thumb circles on the hooded little bundle of nerves.

 

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