by Webster, K
“What will people think of you buying your babysitter a car?”
I grip her chin and tilt her face my way. “Does it look like I care what they think?”
“N-No.”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it,” she says quickly. “I just don’t feel like I deserve it.”
Leaning forward, I brush a kiss against her soft lips. “You could get over here and earn it.”
She laughs—such a sweet fucking sound—before arching a brow at me. I love how her brown eyes twinkle with mischief behind her glasses. “This sounds an awful lot like prostitution.”
I unbuckle her seatbelt and haul her across the console into my lap. She straddles my thighs, settling against my body where she belongs.
“Do prostitutes get spoiled with orgasms?” I tease, my teeth nipping at her flesh through her shirt.
Her fingers thread into my hair. “I don’t know.”
“If you were a prostitute you’d know,” I say, my voice a low rumble. “But you’re a babysitter. A fucking nanny. You’re my goddamned girlfriend and I can spoil the shit out of you as much as I want. Got it, mon petit oiseau?”
She melts against me and nods. “Got it. Thank you, Quinn.”
Our mouths fuse together and I kiss her like I’m fucking eighteen again. My hands roam all over her perfect body. This girl is inside of me. She’s sweet and soft and beautiful—bringing light to dark parts of me that have been docile and caged. I like the way she pulls away my shackles and lets me be free. By stepping into the proverbial cage I’ve designed for her, she gives me total freedom.
“Stay the night.” It’s not a question but a command.
“Won’t the boys be suspicious?” she challenges.
“Let me worry about that. I want you to worry about how many orgasms I can give to you in one night.”
A small giggle escapes her. “You’re a bad influence on me. I should be studying.”
“Oh, you can study, baby,” I mutter. “Just know that you’re going to study with your thighs wrapped around my head and my tongue buried in your cunt. I hope you’re good at multitasking.”
“Quinn!”
I flash her a devilish grin. “Oui, mon petit oiseau?”
“You’re bad.” She bites on her plump bottom lip. Don’t mind if I do.
Leaning forward, I tug at her lip with my teeth until she whimpers. Then, I let go and stare intently at her. “You’re the good one in this relationship. I’m simply here to corrupt you.”
“I think you already have,” she murmurs when I palm her tit through her shirt.
“Sweetheart,” I say with a grin and grip her hip in a possessive way. “I’ve only just gotten started.”
Chapter Twelve
Quinn
One month later...
I feel as though I’ve been in a block of ice for years. And for once in my life, I’m beginning to thaw. That’s what happens when the sun shines on you every single day for a month straight.
I’m not only addicted to this new source of nourishment, but I’m beginning to feel as though I won’t survive without it.
Without her.
I’ve been careful to keep our relationship from the boys because they have enough in their lives to worry about. But behind closed doors, I ravish Ava. I fucking worship her. Despite being completely wrapped up in her, I have finally had enough sense to grab a condom each time we fuck. My thoughts drift to last night.
“I have to study.” She tries and fails to be firm.
“So study. Don’t mind me.”
I kiss her neck while she grips the textbook. Such a good girl. She should be rewarded. I trail kisses down her throat as my palm slides down her stomach. The boys are down the street playing football with some friends. We have a few moments to ourselves. When my hand reaches her tiny cloth shorts and I brush my fingertip over her sex, she lets out a gasp.
“Pay attention and study,” I chide before nipping at her throat.
A moan escapes her but she clutches the book in desperation. We both know she’s not studying. My sweet girl likes to have fun now too. I’ve showed her just how to do that. Lazily, I rub against her clit until she’s trembling with need.
“Are your panties wet, good girl?”
She whimpers. “No.”
“Are you lying?”
She totally fucking is. My good girl likes to be bad sometimes too.
“They’re not wet.”
I sit up and stare at her with a lifted brow. “Maybe I should pull your shorts off and check myself. What happens if I find out you’re lying?”
Her cheeks turn pink. “I would deserve to get punished.”
I give her a nod before sitting up to pull her shorts down her thighs. Once I’ve discarded them, I bring my fingers to her panties. They’re fucking drenched.
“Oh, bad, bad girl,” I murmur as I rub my thumb along the wet spot. “Why did you lie?”
She lifts her hips as if to encourage me to touch her more. “I don’t know.”
“Is it because you wanted me to spank you?” My thumb pushes past the side of her panties and I urge it into her tight center. She lets out a needy moan at the intrusion.
“I think so,” she breathes, her thighs falling apart so I can access her deeper.
“I want you to suck my cock until you earn my hand on your ass. Do you think you’re good enough to earn it, mon petit oiseau?”
She nods and sets her book on the end table in my room. I pull my thumb from her. Slowly, she peels off her shirt revealing her small tits to me. Her pink nipples are peaked and begging to be bitten.
“Take off your panties,” I instruct, my voice husky with desire.
Her ass lifts up as she wriggles out of them. I hold out my hand and she drops them into my grip. With my eyes on hers, I bring the fabric to my nostrils and inhale her sweet young scent. I locate the wetness and drag my tongue across the evidence of her arousal. This makes her gasp.
“Y-You...”
“I did. It was only a taste. A fucking tease. I’ll get my fill later.”
I stand from the bed and walk over to my chair in the room. Once I sit, I motion for her to come to me. Like the good girl she is, she obeys. She kneels before me with her palms on my knees.
“Have you ever sucked cock before?”
She chews on her fat bottom lip and shakes her head. “I don’t know if I’ll be good at it but I want to try.”
I beam at her and stroke her hair. “You excel at everything you do. Something tells me you’ll ace this as well. Now unfasten my pants and pull my cock out. It’s aching to see you.”
Fire flashes in her brown eyes as she nods. With shaking, unsure hands, she fumbles at my pants until she has my dick in her grip. Her hesitation tells me she has no idea what she’s supposed to do next.
“A man likes it when his woman puts her lips on his dick. Use your tongue and throat. Avoid your teeth. My cock is too big for your little mouth so make sure you stroke me too,” I instruct. “That’s all there is to it.”
“What happens when you come?” Her nostrils flare and her cheeks burn bright red.
I brush my fingertips along her silky cheek. “You can decide if you want to drink it down like a good girl or wear it all over your perfect tits like a bad girl. Either way, I’ll be pleased.”
She nods and grips the base of my cock with one hand before lowering her mouth to the tip. Her breath is hot against me. The moment she darts her tongue out and licks me, I suck in a sharp breath. My reaction seems to spur her on because she begins the sweetest fucking blow job on the planet. Curiously, she licks and tastes and sucks on my shaft. Her hand fists me in uneven strokes and a few times her teeth scrape against me almost painfully. When my tip slides some down the back of her throat, she gags and jerks away. Tears s
himmer in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, her neck now turning bright red.
“Baby, you have nothing to be sorry about. This is the best blow job I’ve ever had.”
“But I gagged...”
“I loved the sound of it. Maybe one day, after some practice and you learn to relax, you can take me in your throat.”
Her eyes widen at that suggestion. “Okay.”
My eyes close briefly when her mouth wraps back around my cock. With more confident movements, she bobs up and down. A couple of times she pushes me down the back of her throat with little to no gagging.
“Good girl,” I utter and stroke her hair. “I love when you do that.”
She likes when I pet her hair and praise her. I like it too. This is why we work so well together. With newfound determination, she slides down my erection letting me go deep in her throat. It’s so fucking tight and hot that I lose control rather quickly. I go from stroking her hair to gripping it, urging her movements. Being the obedient girl she is, she doesn’t fight my controlling her and lets me fuck her mouth.
“Fuck, I’m about to come,” I warn and loosen my grip in case she wants to pull off and let me shoot my load on her tits.
Instead, her fingernails dig into my thighs through my pants as she takes me as far as she can go. I come with a jolt and a feral sound I’ve never made before. My orgasm explodes from me, pouring down her tight throat. She swallows and it’s the best fucking feeling. I’m so high off her that I nearly black out from pleasure. The perfect girl fucks my cock with her throat until I begin to soften, not long after my last drop has been expelled.
She pulls away, slobber running down her chin. Her eyes are bloodshot and teary but she beams in triumph. “Did I do a good job?”
I grab her under the arms and yank her into my lap. “You were perfect. So fucking perfect.”
My praise seems to excite her because she starts kissing my mouth. I can taste my salty seed on her tongue and it’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever been a part of. This girl is all mine—a perfect match to my unusual tastes and desires.
“You still have to give me my spanking,” she purrs against my lips.
“But you were so good at giving head. I don’t want to punish you.”
“I want you to,” she pleads. “Don’t I deserve it?”
My cock is hard again and ready to be inside her. “Go to the bed and bend over. How many spankings do you want?”
“Three.”
“Good girl.”
We talked last week about why I only give out three licks. She respects that and never asks for more or less. Once she’s settled in the position I love her in, I stand and remove all my clothes. I make sure to snag and roll on a condom before I spank her because I know my head gets all crazy when we’re in the moment. I’ll forget otherwise.
“Touch your clit,” I order. “I want you to make yourself feel good.”
She nods and slips her hand down to touch herself. I’ve been coaching her on how to make herself orgasm in case she’s at school and misses me. Now she knows how to go into the bathroom and pleasure herself. The deal is, she can do that as long as she calls and lets me listen. At first, she’d been worried. Then, she began to crave her midday calls to me. I always excuse myself to the restroom at the office and come right alongside her.
“Mmm,” she moans. “I’m ready.”
I push a finger inside her cunt. Fuck she’s soaked. Sliding my finger in and out, I locate her G-spot within. From this angle, I’m able to access it easier. She jolts and cries out when I begin massaging it just the way she likes.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I tell her, my free palm roaming over the last bruise I gave her. She wears them like illustrations in a book. Our story is romantic and unique. A tale for only the two of us. Others wouldn’t understand our desires—the cravings that only the other can fulfil.
“Please,” she begs. “I was so bad.”
Slap!
She screams and her pussy clenches around my finger. Her hips rock against me as if to urge me to do more.
Slap!
“Oh God,” she whimpers, her body shuddering wildly.
Slap!
Her knees wobble as a low moan rumbles through her. I yank my finger out and shove my cock in hard and fast.
“Quinn!” she cries out, her fingers brushing against my cock as I slam into her while she continues to pleasure herself.
I grip her hips to the point I know they’ll wear more bruises soon as I brutally thrust into her. Sweet, innocent, soft little Ava loves it rough. She gets off on the pain. Of being controlled. Our sex is harsh and sometimes painful. But she loves it. I fucking love it.
“God!” Her entire body jolts and spasms as an orgasm thrashes through her. The way her cunt grips me so suddenly has me losing control myself. Together, we come with animalistic sounds as our skin slaps together.
Once I’m spent and we’re coming down from our explosive highs, I pull out of her. While Ava loves a good pounding in the sack, she positively glows when I take care of her afterward. I scoop her into my arms and carry her into the bathroom. Her eyes are on mine when I sit her down and start us a bath. The gaze she stares at me with is one filled with love and happiness. I love it. So beautiful.
I fill the tub and sprinkle in some salts for her sore body. Then, I scoop her back into my arms and carry her into the tub with me. We groan as we relax in the hot water. She curls up against me—so small—and kisses my jaw.
“You make me so happy,” she breathes before snuggling against my neck.
I grin like a goofy motherfucker. “You make me happy too, mon petit oiseau. So damn happy.”
I blink away the memory but I’m still smiling. My cock is hard and tenting the sheets. With this sweet girl in my arms and having woven herself into my heart, I’m fucking over the moon with happiness.
Life is...perfect.
That is, until a certain nails-on-a-chalkboard voice cuts through my sleepy daze and has ice forming so quickly around my heart you’d think I was Jack Frost.
“Where are my babies?”
Ava stirs against my bare chest. I love how small she looks tucked against my giant frame. Normally, I spend hours in the morning before work and school simply staring at her perfect form. Who needs coffee when you have an Ava to make you feel alive? She sends blood rushing to every part of my body. Her scent fills my lungs and invigorates me. This girl is my sustenance and I gladly devour her each day.
“Who is that?” my sleepy girl murmurs. Then, abruptly, she sits up. “Is that your...”
A growl rumbles from me. “She’s my nothing. The boys’ mother, yes. But she is nothing to me.” I kiss her forehead before sliding out of bed to throw on some clothes. Ava scampers out of the bedroom behind me and slips into the guest room while I stalk downstairs.
When I reach the bottom step, I find my ex-wife texting on her phone. Her sleek blond hair has been curled into soft waves around her face and she wears oversized sunglasses. In the house. Her dress is a halter cut and the big tits she conned me into buying seven years ago spill out of the front. Sammie is a beautiful woman, there’s no denying that. But it’s all surface beauty. Beneath the smooth exterior are hard edges and selfishness. Had I known she was so ugly on the inside, I’d have never pursued her. She was always good at pretending. Probably why she’ll make an outstanding fucking actress.
“Samantha,” I greet her, my tone cold.
She slides her sunglasses down her nose so she can stare at my bare chest. Now that I’m with Ava, I find myself working out more. I like being fit and strong for her. When she spends hours studying, I use that time in my home gym. I’m sure Sammie notices I’m more ripped than usual.
“Well, I’ll be,” Sammie says sweetly. “Looking good, hubby. Looking good.”
&nbs
p; I stiffen and clench my jaw. “Ex. We’re not married anymore.”
She huffs and her bottom lip trembles. At one time, I did anything for her to keep her from crying. Now, I see right past it.
“What do you want?” My tone is dry and unaffected. Truth is though, she pisses me off. How dare she waltz into the home she abandoned as if she’s simply been on vacation?
“I want to see my family,” she whimpers. “I’ve missed my babies.” She licks her lips. “And you.”
I stomp past her into the kitchen. If I have to deal with her obnoxious ass at seven in the morning, then I better down some coffee fast. She follows behind me, flitting about the space like she used to.
“Quinny,” she whines. “Don’t you miss me too?”
I slam the K-cup into the Keurig and mash the button before turning to glower at her with my arms folded over my chest. “No. I don’t.”
Fat tears well in her blue eyes. “You’ve turned cruel. I don’t even know you anymore.”
“No,” I snarl. “You don’t know me anymore. You gave up that right when you fucked your trainer and ran off to be a goddamned movie star. How’s that working out for you anyway? Are you moving up in the world? Fucking Brad Pitt now?”
Before she can answer, my chilled heart warms several degrees. I sense Ava before I even see her. “Sorry to interrupt but I was going to grab the boys some Pop-Tarts so they could eat them on the way to school.”
Sammie gapes at Ava who looks a picture of innocence this morning in a pair of denim overalls and a pink tank top. Her hair has been pulled back into a ponytail and she’s not wearing makeup. She looks so young. So beautiful.
“Who the hell are you?” Sammie demands, her voice icy.
“The babysitter,” Ava answers, her voice shaky.
Sammie jerks her head to me. “Does your babysitter always stink of sex? What is she? Fifteen? Honestly, Quinn!”
Ava makes a choked sound but I’m already walking over to stand between them. With Ava safely at my back, I snap at Sammie. “She’s being paid to help with the boys and she’s eighteen if it’s any of your business.”