Mountain Man Baby Daddy

by Vivien Vale

  And, best of all, in the bedroom.

  God, I bet that drives other men crazy too. Chloe’s practically insatiable when she’s like this, one orgasm in and already starving for another. It’s one of my favorite things about her, really. One is never enough for Chloe. As soon as she’s had her first, she’s ready for more.

  She’s an exciting challenge because she needs a man who knows what the fuck he’s doing between her legs. And in that department, we’re as compatible sexually as we are intellectually.

  I tease her into it. I know how fucking crazy that makes her, which only makes my cock that much harder. I like the way she grabs the back of my head, twisting her fingers into my hair as my lips press against her knee and I begin to kiss my way up her thigh.

  I like the way she tries to pull my mouth up to her cunt. Insistently. Like if she doesn’t come again soon, she’s going to go insane.

  Insane is exactly where I want her. Insane is absolutely fucking perfect.

  I resist the temptation, even though I want it almost just as bad. My cock is stiff and hungry for her. My mouth would give anything for a taste of Chloe’s sweet cunt. I can smell how wet the first orgasm has left her.

  Chloe’s smell is addictive. I could keep my head between her legs all fucking day. But right now, I need to pace myself. Drive her to the edge, just to the brink of madness, then watch as she thrashes against my mouth while she tumbles over it.

  I keep kissing. Slowly. Lustily. Savoring the soft, velvety skin of Chloe’s smooth, gorgeous inner thigh. Laughing to myself as she continues to try and take what she wants from me. She won’t give up on trying to pull my mouth against her pussy, which is hotter than I ever could have imagined.

  Silly girl. I’m stronger than her, whether she wants to admit it or not. She can try all she wants. In fact, I fucking welcome it, because it makes my cock throb. But when push comes to shove, she’s going to have to realize that I’m not some idiot boy who can only try to control her.

  Outside of this, she can be as strong and in charge and bossy and demanding as she wants.

  But when I’m taking Chloe’s body, she’s going to have to accept that I’m conquering her. That she’s not in charge here; I am.

  “God,” she moans. “Fucking lick me already, Aaron.”

  “Mmm,” I hum back, biting into her thigh. I’m almost there. So close, we can both almost taste it. But not quite yet.

  “Do you want it, baby?”

  “You know I do,” she snarls.

  That’s right, Chloe. Get angry. Get mad at me.

  It will make it that much easier to lose control.

  “Please,” she gasps, letting go of the anger and shifting tone. “Please, Aaron. I need your mouth.”

  That’s even more amusing. Now she’s trying to appeal to my softer side. The part of me that loves making her come and wants nothing more than to pamper her like the queen she is. Her voice is a sweet little whimper. I love Chloe begging just as much as I like seeing her mad.

  “Please what, baby?”

  “Please fuck me!” she cries out.

  Her fingers twist painfully in my hair. She’s getting desperate, so fucking close.

  I position my mouth just over her cunt. Deliberately, I blow a hot breath over it, feeling the humidity of her wetness on my lips.

  “Beg, Chloe. Beg like the bitch you are.”

  “Aaron, please! I’ll do anything! Anything you want.”

  “Call me master.”

  Chloe bites her lip. For a second, I’m not sure she’s going to. But just as I pull my mouth back…

  “Please, master! Make me come. Make me come!”

  “Call me…Daddy.”

  Chloe’s face contorts into the sweetest fucking pout I’ve ever seen.

  “Daddy! Lick me, daddy. Take my cunt. I need you!”

  It’s too fucking much. Even for me.

  As much as I love torturing Chloe like this…she’s too fucking gorgeous. I can’t deny her anymore.

  I can’t deny her anything.

  I kiss her cunt and claim her clit with my tongue, realizing that as much as I was teasing her, I was trying to prove something to myself, too.

  I thought I could resist her, but as it turns out, there’s only so much one man can take.

  “Oh my God, yes,” Chloe hisses. She shoves my mouth even harder against her pussy, grinding her clit against my tongue as she whimpers and moans. “Take me, Daddy. Give it to me good. Just like that! Oh! Oh God, yes! YES!”

  She’s being loud. Slutty. Too fucking sexy for her own good. If we don’t get shushed by some nosy librarian in the next few seconds, she’s going to make me lose control myself.

  And then it happens. She orgasms against my tongue. Her hot, creamy honey gushing over my lips and down my chin. When that happens, I fucking know.

  It doesn’t matter who walks in on us now. Edmond Rostand himself would walk in, and he’d just have to fucking watch as I lift Chloe up, flip her on her stomach and bend her over the library cart like the dirty little slut she is.

  “Put it in me,” she growls.

  I grab her hips and pull myself up, positioning my cock over her hot, dripping cunt. My huge, stiff tip nestles between her slick pussy lips. She’s still throbbing against me. It’s like her cunt is trying to get hold of my cock. I grab it up and pull it inside.

  Chloe’s body was made to be fucked like this. Hard. Intensely. Publicly, so everyone can see the way I put her in her place: beneath me, moaning, cunt full of my cock and my name on her lips.

  “You’re a dirty fucking whore, Chloe,” I growl. “Say it.”

  “I am! I’m a dirty whore,” she whines back. “So fuck me like one!”

  I oblige. My cock is thick enough, and Chloe’s sweet pussy is tight enough, that it’s a hard fit. I have to go slow, slower than I like, just to slip the head of my dick inside of her. But once I get there, it’s the most natural thing in the world. I can feel my thickness stretching her out, but Chloe’s pussy keeps throbbing, coating me with her juices.

  Nature wins out in the end, and I lose myself completely. I fuck her fast and raw. My hips slamming into her gorgeous ass again and again. Chloe’s moans echo through the bookshelves, high and clear and loud as she wants to make them.

  As we come together, my hot seed pumping into Chloe’s spasming womb, I think I might hear the hint of an obligatory librarian-flavored shhhhhh.

  But I’m balls-deep in Chloe’s body and intoxicated by her scent. If anyone has a problem with us, we’re just too hot, too drunk on each other and too deep in lust and orgasm to fucking care.

  Chloe

  I’m shoving a cinnamon roll into my mouth and stare at the little screen of my mobile. The idea had come to me a little while ago, but now I’m not so sure. I feel like Gru in Despicable Me when he practices calling Lucy but then doesn’t.

  Is it human nature to have a great idea and when it comes to executing it balk at it? With a sigh, I reach for another cinnamon roll. Fuck, they’re delicious. If I’m not careful, I’ll start to put on the pounds.

  Not that I’m one for those crap diets people go on. Oh no, not me. I roll my eyes at diets. How can you enjoy life when you eat fucking no fat, no dairy, gluten free, organic, low carb, and no fucking sugar water? It beats me.

  I like my food. No wait, I fucking love my food. Not to mention a good drop to go with it. Coffee is also an essential food group as far as I’m concerned.

  Focus Chloe. You’re going to call Aaron and ask him.

  Argh.

  What the fuck’s wrong with me? It’s a simple little phone call. It won’t hurt.

  And I’m only asking him to come and spend the weekend with me, it’s not as if I’m proposing marriage or a long-term commitment.

  I take a deep breath and lick bits of sugar off my top lip. Yum.

  Thank goodness for Aaron bringing some of these over the other day. It made me realize how much I love this little sweet treats and promptly bough
t another half dozen.

  Maybe I’ll make myself some coffee. All that fucking sweet stuff leaves me craving a double espresso or two.

  In front of the silver beast, my nickname for the coffee machine, I pull faces and practice what I’m going to say.

  “Hi Aaron, just wondering if you want to come away for a weekend of fucking.”

  No.

  I laugh at myself.

  You really have a way with words Chloe.

  Of course, I have a way with words. I’m a fucking writer and a good one at that.

  Shouldn’t I get straight to the point? I mean, the last couple of times we’ve met, that’s what we’ve ended up doing. Had a fantastic fuck. If I put it in those terms, he may be more inclined to say yes.

  Grrr.

  Words. I’m the master of words and they will obey me.

  How about, “Hi Aaron. If you’re not doing anything this weekend can you come away with me?”

  I frown.

  A little better but still kind of lame, and I don’t do lame.

  What if he says no?

  And there, ladies and gentlemen is the fucking problem. I’m afraid he’ll say no. I’m fucking terrified of rejection.

  Look what happened to Anna Karenina, she fucking committed suicide because she could not handle rejection. Sure, the plot’s a little more complicated but I think, in the end, it was all based on rejection. Not to mention Bella’s reaction when Edward does not reciprocate her love in the first book. She stops participating in life for months.

  Of course, I’m not madly in love with Aaron the way Bella was with Edward and I’m also no Karenina. But, I don’t want to be rejected.

  What am I, or is it who am I? Which question should I be asking? Fucking make the phone call Chloe, my inner voice is getting a little bit frustrated.

  I’m more like Anne Shirley out of Anne of Green Gables I decide, or am I Elizabeth Bennett?

  I sigh.

  But who’s Aaron, or what is Aaron?

  Is he the man I’m falling for? Falling for, what an odd expression. Where did that term or phrase come from?

  Now I’m fucking philosophizing on the question of life.

  My head’s starting to hurt. I’m starting to regret ever having thought of wanting to ask him. If I had not thought of it, I now would not be in this fucking dilemma.

  Chloe, it’s just asking him to fucking come away for one weekend.

  If he says no, I’ll deal with it. You’ve dealt with other rejection before. And he may already have plans. I mean, let’s face it, not everyone can just drop everything with barely any notice and get on a plane to go to Reykjavik.

  With my coffee brewed, I sit back at my desk. Maybe I better check the site before I call him?

  The longer you stall, the higher the chances of him being unable to change his weekend plans.

  Strong black coffee assaults my taste buds.

  Ah. Fuck this is good. A real caffeine jolt, just what I needed.

  My index finger hovers a few more seconds before I press the speed dial button.

  I furrow my brow. Should I attach any weight to the fact I’ve got him on speed dial—a man I barely know?

  But then again, he’s the man I’m asking to come away with me for the weekend.

  “Hi,” his deep voice booms through the speaker and into my ear. “I knew you were too good to be true and cannot possibly be real.”

  I’m taken aback.

  “What do you mean?” Part of me is offended, the other being swept away in feelings of eating soft-centered chocolate. When you eat soft-centered chocolates, you kind of roll your eyes in sheer delight as your taste buds are bombarded with an artillery of taste sensations. Your whole body is enveloped in a warm, soft and cuddly blanket.

  “Only witches I think have the power to read other people’s thoughts. And lo and behold, I’m sitting here, lonely as anything, thinking of an excuse to ring you. Bingo. My phone rings and it’s the woman of my dreams on the other end.”

  At his words, my heart performs several summersaults and, for a moment, I’m unable to put one proper thought together.

  “Witch.”

  “Pardon?” Now he sounds confused.

  I’m about to explain but change my mind.

  “Never mind.”

  Aaron laughs.

  “Wait, wait. I got it. I should have said the witch of my dreams calls me.”

  “Full marks, move to the top of the class.”

  “What’re you up to?”

  Perfect leading question.

  “I’m packing and I wondered if you’d like to come to Reykjavik with me. Cassie and Ethan are going, and well…” Now I do falter just a little. “I just thought it might be fun if you came along, too.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief and brace for the thanks for asking, but no thanks.

  “Pardon?”

  Now I haven’t heard what he said because I’ve been too fucking busy bracing.

  “Looks like Cassie gets her double date after all.”

  I can’t believe my ears.

  “So you’ll come?” I double check and am already grinning ear to ear.

  He may have taken me on a date to the library; I was going to take him to Reykjavik. And boy, would we have some fun together.

  “You know, I normally don’t ask a man on a date like this.” I feel the need to explain. And it is true. It’s very out of character for me to ask someone out, especially on an overnight date.

  “Well,” starts Aaron. “I’m pleased to hear you’ve broken with tradition.”

  I can hear it in his voice that he’s genuine in what he just said.

  “I’ll just move some appointments around and I’ll come and get you.”

  Before I can protest and tell him to meet me at the airport, he’s ended the conversation.

  On impulse, I get up and do a little victory dance.

  Yeah, oh yeah, I’m going to Reykjavik with Aaron. I jig around the room—pleased no one can see me.

  I’m not quite sure why I carry on like a little schoolgirl in love with some celebrity she’s about to meet. It’s silly, really. I’m a grown woman, a successful writer, and generally not one to let my emotions run away with me.

  Ah well, no harm in letting my hair down from time to time.

  I skip to my room to grab a case and pack some clothes. Why bother, my inner voice pipes up. You’ll be spending most of your time naked. I giggle at the thought.

  Am I falling for this man? Is single, independent me falling in love with a successful businessman?

  And what if I am?

  Aaron is what every girl wants, isn’t he? He seems like the real deal. He’s honest, sincere, fucking funny, and he’s so fucking hot my insides almost melt every time I think of him or look at him.

  I must really ask him one day what business exactly he’s in.

  Could it be there’s a flaw I haven’t yet noticed?

  I push the thought aside. He’s the real deal. He’s the Mr. Darcy women only read about.

  My time on Thebadboys.net has been the perfect training ground to work out people’s character. I’m pretty confident my online training has been excellent and I’ve learned to read people well.

  With my case packed, I do the only thing left to do: I go online to plan an itinerary for the weekend.

  Aaron

  It dawns on me.

  This must be how the fucking fat man in the red suit must feel like every year.

  I’ve watched Chloe’s face ever since I’ve picked her up in my limo. I mean, of course I used my fucking limo. If you want to use a car, use one that stands out.

  Standing out from the crowd is what I do as the owner of Thebadboys.net. It is what Ms. Winters has done online for the last few months too. Ms. Winters knows how to stand out.

  If you stand out, you succeed. If you blend in, you’re at risk of getting lost in the crowd. Ordinary is highly overrated, and ordinary does not spell success.

  I can
tell the excitement oozing from Chloe, and if the trip to the airport was a little bit longer, I know what I would do with her.

  It’s so tempting to grab her gorgeous body and throw her over my knees to give her a fucking fantastic spanking before fucking her.

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  “I’m imagining all the fun we’ll be having in Reykjavik.” It’s not exactly a lie. The spanking can wait till we get there, maybe not. There’s always the plane trip.

  Chloe leans into me, kitten-like. She’s even purring. Her tight top stretches across her tits.

  “Thanks for coming, and thanks for picking me up in a limo.”

  This girl is so fucking genuine it hurts. I can tell she’s not used to being treated like a queen, and yet she should be.

  The limo stops, and Jacque, my driver, opens the door. I poke my head out the door and do a quick check. All going according to plan.

  “Thank you, Jacque.” I smile at him. “I’ll call you when I return.”

  His face stays totally impassive, and that’s what I like most about Jacque. He’s discretion and silence personified. Any of my secrets he knows he will take to his grave.

  “Enjoy your trip, sir,” he says and slams the door shut.

  Chloe is about to grab her case when one of my staff reaches us and relieves her of this mundane task.

  This weekend, I plan to totally spoil my girl.

  My insides squirm. Had I really just thought of her in terms of my girl?

  I shake my head. There was something wrong with me. First, she wasn’t my girl, and if I thought of her in possessive terms, surely I could do better than that.

  “What the—” She leaves the sentence unfinished, and I catch her eye

  “I thought—” she stammers, but I cut her off with a kiss to the nose.

  “A pretty face like you should not do too much thinking.”

  She punches me in the arm.

  “Hey, Mr. Sexist, newsflash: we are in the twenty-first century. We’ve left the Dark Ages behind. Women do think for themselves.”

  I pull a face at her as I link arms.

  “Next you’ll be telling me they let women vote now too?”