6. Oz
6
OZ
H er lips are parted, like she’s trying to figure out what she can say to change my mind, but there are no words that could convince me that she isn’t mine, especially not now. My mind is whirling along at a million miles an hour, but when I look at her or touch her, everything stops, because despite everything else that’s happening around us, it’s all about her.
“You should use the bathroom.” I sigh, remembering a woman telling me that girls need to pee after sex so they don’t get a UTI. Slipping my arms beneath her, I lift her up into my lap, then stand up, lifting her off the bed with my dick still partially inside of her.
“Put me down, I can walk!” she shrieks, and it’s the loudest I’ve ever heard her speak.
Ignoring her, I hold her tightly as I walk us across the room and into the attached bathroom.
Reluctantly lifting her off my dick, I lower her to her feet beside the toilet, then crouch down, watching as my cum starts to seep out of her pussy. The sight fascinates me, and another day I might spread her wide and watch as I drip out of her, but for now, all of my instincts scream at me to keep her full of me. Lifting my hand to her sex, I use my fingers to collect the cum that’s trying to escape and push it back into her.
“Oh my god, Oz, what are you doing?” she gasps, pushing up onto her tiptoes, her hand landing on my head for balance.
“My cum belongs inside of you,” I growl, finger fucking her in slow, measured slides, forcing my release back into her. “I need you to come for me,” I demand, parting her folds and finding her clit with my tongue.
“Oh fuck,” she rasps, her fingers tangling in my hair as I lick her clit, holding my release inside of her until she comes with a cry and her core clenches around my fingers over and over.
“What was that?” she pants breathlessly.
“I already told you, my cum belongs inside of you,” I tell her, pressing a soft kiss to her mound as I climb to my feet.
Her eyes are as wide as saucers. “You’re insane,” she rasps.
She’s naked, her lips kiss swollen, and her nipples pink and pebbled. She looks well-fucked and exhausted, and a sense of male pride swells inside me. Stepping into her space until we’re chest to chest, I lift my hand and cup her cheek, stroking her reverently. “I wasn’t insane, at least not until I saw you again. Now I’m losing my mind, and it’s all because of you.”
Her lips part, but before she has a chance to speak, I slide the two fingers I just used to push my cum back into her cunt, between her parted lips and into her mouth. “Suck,” I order.
I can see in her eyes that she tries not to do what I say, but she likes obeying me too much, and seconds later, I feel her tongue slide along my fingers as she closes her lips around them and sucks.
“Good girl,” I whisper, smiling when she trembles in response to my praise. “Taste how good we are together. I know this is unexpected for you, but I won’t tolerate you trying to fight this, Little One. We might have a past, but we have a future too, and I won’t let our history effect that. I won’t allow you to use the past as an excuse to deny you want me either.”
Sliding my fingers free, I don’t give her time to argue. Instead, I dip my head and press my lips to hers, tasting both of our releases on her tongue.
When I pull back, she keeps her eyes closed, and instead of insisting she open them, I allow her space, even if I hate doing it.
“You need to pee, Little One. I’ll give you some space this time. But don’t be too long, or I’ll come and fetch you.”
Walking away feels wrong, but watching her use the bathroom right now would probably be worse. Instead of closing the door behind me, I leave it open and stand just inside the bedroom, my arms crossed tightly across my chest to stop me from moving.
Straining to hear what she’s doing, I hold my breath until I recognize the sounds of her moving around. When the toilet flushes, I arch forward onto my toes, desperate to go to her and wondering if maybe I am as crazy as she seems to think I am.
When I glance at my watch, it’s after five in the morning, and I have to be back at base in a few hours. I don’t want to waste the time I have with her sleeping, but I’ve already fucked her twice, and I’m not sure how sore she is or if she’s as eager to have me again as I am to slide my dick back inside of her.
I could use her mouth or ass, but I don’t want that, at least not right now. Later, I intend to claim her everywhere, but for now, I need the closeness of being inside her cunt, knowing that the more cum I pump into her, the better the chance of her getting pregnant.
The baby fever I’m experiencing is unexpected and, honestly, a little terrifying. If this is how the Barnetts feel about their wives, it makes a lot more sense why someone is always pregnant up at their place.
Whispering how I plan to fill her with my cum until she is pregnant with my baby was as hot as it was unexpected. Usually thinking about getting a woman pregnant would be enough to deflate my dick, but with her, imagining my seed taking root in her womb only makes me harder.
“You ’bout done?” I call, ready to step back into the bathroom and drag her out if I have to.
When she steps around the doorway, her eyes are red-rimmed, and I have to fight the urge to demand to know why she’s upset, but I won’t. She’s freaking out, and I understand that. I won’t allow her any space from me, but for now, I won’t push her to accept how both of our lives have now changed. She’s no longer naked. Instead, she’s wrapped in a towel, her fingers white where she’s gripping the top of it tightly.
“You don’t need that,” I snap, ripping it away from her and dropping it to the floor as I reach for her, pulling her into my chest and holding her tight.
Instead of hugging me back, her arms hang limply at her sides. Unperturbed, I hold her tightly, and after several long moments, she slowly lifts her hands and wraps them around my waist.
“I’m going to fall in love with you, Etta. I think I’m halfway there already. There’s no point fighting it, I couldn’t let you go now, even if I wanted to. I’m going to fuck you, breed you, and marry you. This is our life now, Little One.”
“What about our parents?” she asks, her voice muffled.
“What about them? I haven’t seen my dad in years, I only speak to him because he calls me and refuses to stop. What we do is none of their business. I’m happy to change my number and never speak to him again if that’d make things easier for you.”
“Oz,” she says wearily. “This is too much. I need to sleep, and I want to do it in my own bed.”
“My bed is bigger and more comfortable.”
“The other bed is plenty big enough for me,” she says, trying to push away from me.
“New rule, Little One. We sleep together from now on, and when I’m not here, you sleep in my bed.”
“Octy will be here in a few days, we’ll find our own place, then I won’t be here at all,” she says, clearly trying to force confidence into her voice and failing when she looks at me, clearly asking for my permission.
“You know that’s not going to be happening, Etta. You might not want to admit it, but you know I’ll never let you go,” I growl, releasing my hold on her only long enough to grab her face and force her to look at me. “You live here with me from now on. This is a small town, and they love their friendly neighborhood firefighters. Especially Herb, who is the only realtor in town. He had a fire out at his fishing cabin about six months ago. We got the flames out before the place collapsed and even managed to save his favorite rods. It wouldn’t take much to make sure no one in Rockhead Point would be willing to rent to either you or Octy. But that seems like a lot of effort for you to just end up exactly where you started, which is here in this house with me.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asks, like she still doesn’t get it.
“Because you’re mine, Henrietta and I won’t lose you.”
Her lips snap shut, and she looks up at me like I’m a stranger. And I am. We don’t know this version of each other. But I don’t have to know her to know that she’s it for me. I plan to get to know every single nuance that makes her, her. But right now, I know enough to be completely confident that no matter how much she fights and argues, I’ll never let her go.
“You need to sleep. I shouldn’t have woken you up in the middle of the night, but I couldn’t go another minute without claiming you. Let’s go to bed.”
“You won’t let me sleep in the other room, will you?” she asks, already knowing the answer.
“No, Little One. If I’m not at work, we sleep together.”
“I—”
“Enough,” I snap, sharply cutting her off before she can start whatever protest she has planned next. “Are you walking to bed, or am I carrying you?”
“Oz.”
“Get into bed, Etta.”
Wrapping her arms around her breasts, she slowly steps around me, moving toward the bed.
“Good girl,” I praise, following her onto the mattress and then settling the comforter over us both.
“Why do I like that so much?” she whines, more to herself than to me, but I answer anyway.
“Because you like knowing you’ve pleased me. You like knowing that you’ve done what I’ve told you to do. Because you like being my good girl.”
“I’m an adult. I don’t need to be praised like a toddler.” She sighs.
“Just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean you don’t need to be complimented. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be positively rewarded for doing something well,” I assure her, shocking myself with how sure I sound.
“You’re making me sound like a dog, doing tricks for treats,” she says with a teeny, tiny huff that’s fucking adorable and not at all intimidating.
“Does my puppy need to be petted? I have the perfect place,” I coo, dragging her toward me and pushing my hand between her thighs, finding her clit and tapping at it with my fingertip.
“Oh my god, I just fucked my stepbrother, don’t make this any weirder by calling me a puppy,” she squeaks, pushing my hand away, rolling to her side, and putting her back to me.
I can’t help it, I laugh. Ignoring her obvious desire to put space between us, I capture her with my arm and drag her back into me. Curling my body around her, I rest my now semi-hard dick against her butt crack, wishing I didn’t have to go back to work in a few hours so I could take the time to prepare her to feel me pushing my cock into her tight asshole.
Holding her close, I lift my head and rest my lips against her ear. “I’m not your stepbrother, Etta. Our parents might be married, but we’ve never had any kind of familial link. We haven’t done anything wrong, and I don’t give a fuck if anyone has a problem with us being together.”
Her sigh is tired and weary.
“New rule, no giving a fuck about how our families know each other, okay?”
“You can’t just make up rules,” she says, her tone adorably exasperated.
“Yes, I can. I can make up any rules I want, and you’ll follow them because you like following my rules. You like that I have rules for you, and you like that I praise you when you obey them. Don’t you?”
“Good night, Oz,” she says, avoiding answering.
“Good night, Little One, sweet dreams.”
She’s still asleep when I wake up a few hours later. Working as a firefighter, I’ve gotten used to having interrupted sleep and long days. I’m tired, but not enough to fall back asleep when I have my woman in my arms.
Part of me wants to stay curled up with her, warm and comfortable. My dick wants me to roll her to her belly and slip inside of her, but I don’t want to take her in her sleep. I want her to know that I’m fucking her. I want her to feel every hard inch of my dick as I push it into her hot, wet cunt, then feel it as I pump my cum into her.
Her hair is a mess, tangled and scruffy after our playtime last night, but I don’t want her perfect, I just want her. The newly familiar need to take care of her surges to the surface, and I carefully untangle myself from her, covering her with the comforter before I slip out of bed, pull on some boxers, and head down to the kitchen.
Pulling the ingredients for pancakes out of the refrigerator, I grab a mixing bowl and start cracking eggs into it. I don’t really understand the sense of pride I feel at cooking for her, but I relax into the feeling, refusing to question something that feels so right.
Putting some bacon into a skillet, I smile to myself as the smell starts to permeate the air. Flipping pancakes on the griddle, I set the coffeepot to brew and chop up strawberries until I have a stack of pancakes, crispy bacon, rich plump strawberries, and two mugs of coffee—one black, one drowned in creamer, the same way she made it for herself the first morning she was here while we were on video chat.
Placing everything onto a tray, I carry it upstairs, pushing through the door into the bedroom, only to find the bed empty.
“What the fuck?” I growl, putting the tray on the bed and storming into the bathroom. I’m not surprised to find it empty too, but it does nothing to quell the anger that’s barreling through me.
Stomping across the landing, I throw open the door to the bedroom she’s been using and find her sitting on the end of the bed, wearing a bra and panties.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I demand.
“Getting dressed,” she says, her eyes wide with fear.
“Why are you in here?”
“Because this is where my clothes are.”
A little of my ire cools, but instead of relaxing, I march to the closet and throw open the door, finding it empty. “Where’s your stuff?” I snarl.
“In the case.” Her eyes dart to the small case that’s leaning neatly against the wall.
“Why haven’t you unpacked?” I know I sound like an asshole, but I expected to find her sleepy and sexy in our bed, and her not being there has riled me up, and now I have nowhere to direct the fear and anger I felt at finding her missing.
“Because I’m only here for a couple of nights.”
“Fine.” Grabbing the case, I haul it easily out of the bedroom and across the hall to my room, throwing it down onto the rumpled bed and unzipping it.
“What are you doing?” she asks, appearing in the doorway, now dressed in a pretty red dress that goes all the way to the floor.
“Get undressed,” I demand.
“What? Why?”
“I left you in bed, naked and well-fucked. I made breakfast and came back upstairs, and you weren’t where I expected you to be. I told you, you sleep in my bed now.”
“I wasn’t sleeping,” she says, her eyes wide.
“Take the fucking dress off, unless you want me to rip it off. Did you shower too?”
“No, not yet,” she admits carefully.
“Why not?”
“Because…” She trails off, and I turn away from the clothes I’m unpacking from her case and look at her.
“Because what?”
Pressing her lips together, she clasps her hands and then looks away.
“Answer the fucking question, Etta. Why didn’t you shower? You left our bed and hid in the spare room, so why didn’t you shower?”
“Oz.”
“Take the fucking dress off and answer the question,” I hiss, taking a menacing step toward her.
“Oh my god,” she whispers, pulling the dress up and over her head with shaking fingers.
“You still haven’t answered my question. Why haven’t you showered?”
“Because I wanted to smell like this for a little while longer,” she finally admits. Her voice is so quiet I nearly don’t hear what she’s saying as she curls in on herself, her posture meek, her chin dipped, and her gaze fixed firmly on her feet.
“You don’t want to stay in our bed, but you still want to smell like my cum?” I ask, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
Pursing her lips, she darts a glance at me, then away again, but it’s too late to hide from me now.
“Don’t ignore me, Little One. Be a good girl.”
Fuck, the way she reacts to those two words is better than I could ever have dreamed up in my dirtiest fantasies.
Her head snaps up, her eyes fall closed, and she clenches her thighs together as a hint of a shudder rolls through her. “Yes,” she admits softly.
“Come to me, Etta.”
She fights my order for less than a second, her body swaying toward me before she closes the distance between us, standing in front of me in nothing but a basic white cotton bra and black panties.
“Eyes on me.”
Her chin lifts, and her expressive eyes find mine.
Dipping down, I bury my face into her neck and inhale deeply. She smells like sweet sex and sour fear, and I hate how much I fucking love it. I don’t want her to be scared of me, but I can’t help enjoying the look of helpless desire on her face.
“Unless I’m going to work, If I leave you in our bed, I expect you to still be in it when I get back,” I growl, curling my arm around her back and pulling her into me until she’s pressed against me from her tits to her pussy.
“Oz, last night was?—”
I cut her off before she says something that will really make me mad. “Inevitable.”
Lifting my hand, I deftly unfasten her bra, loosening my hold on her enough that I can tug it down her arms.
“I don’t want you to wear a bra while we’re home alone.”
“I can’t not wear a bra,” she gasps.
“Or panties.” I smile, pushing the simple cotton off her hips until it slides to a heap on the floor at her feet.
“Oz,” she sighs.
“Or any clothes.” I laugh, lifting her with my hands under her butt and carrying her over to the bed.
“I can’t wander around naked all the time, that’s ridiculous. This whole thing is ridiculous. Am I dying? Is this all a fever dream? Or maybe it’s a nightmare. You were the star of them for about five years when I was a kid,” she rambles.
“I was in your nightmares?” I ask, jolting back in shock.
Blinking, her eyes lift, and she furrows her brows. “Of course you were. You were the monster under the bed, Oscar. You tortured me.”
“I didn’t torture you,” I scoff.
“You stole my things and broke them. You tormented me. You spread rumors, and I had to leave my school. You traumatized me so much that even fifteen years later, I can’t get on an airplane.”
“What are you talking about?” I snap angrily.
“Are you serious right now? You know what you did to me, you enjoyed it, you reveled in making me as miserable as possible.” Her voice cracks as she speaks, and I can tell it’s taken a lot for her to say all of that to me.
“I spent a few weekends and some holidays with you fifteen years ago. I get that I was an asshole, I was pretty fucking angry, but?—”
Tears roll down her cheeks as she looks up at me with a mixture of fury and hatred in her eyes. “You showed me videos of planes crashing and children being carried away from crash sites in body bags on repeat for days. When we got on the plane, I had a panic attack and had to be taken to the ER in an ambulance.” Instead of getting angrier, her voice gets smaller and smaller with each word until she’s barely whispering.
“I…” I trail off, because now that she’s reminded me of it, she’s right, I did do that. Dad had booked us a vacation to Mexico, and I hadn’t wanted to go. I’d screamed and shouted and argued that I shouldn’t be forced to spend a week with him, and he’d ignored me. I’d been so angry, I’d decided if I had to have a terrible time, then Henrietta had to too. I remember her passing out and us missing our flight, but stupidly, I never considered that I was the cause.
“Fuck,” I whisper. “Is that why you took the bus here instead of flying?”
Still not looking at me, she nods.
The years after my parents’ divorce were rough. But until now, I thought I’d dealt with it. I thought I’d looked back at my behavior and at least understood it and accepted it for what it was. An angry kid who was hurting and lashing out. But this…until this moment, I hadn’t ever really thought about Etta and how my behavior back then had affected her. I’ve worked through how those years affected me, but never her. What the fuck do I even do now? I don’t remember everything I did. I don’t remember half of the things she just accused me of doing. But she’s not lying, I can see the truth in her anguish-filled eyes. “I’m…fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t. I’d forgotten about that until you just reminded me. And you still don’t fly?”
Still not looking at me, she shakes her head again.
“You had to leave school?” I ask carefully.
“You told my friends I was telling lies about them, spreading rumors that I thought they were ugly and mean and that I was too good for them,” she whimpers. “I didn’t have many friends anyway, and when they turned on me, I was alone. They weren’t happy about what you told them I’d said. Girls can be mean. After a while, Mom decided it’d be better if she homeschooled me.”
“Fuck,” I hiss, angrily clenching my jaw as I take in how hollow and fragile she looks right now. “I stole from you and broke stuff?”
“I had some collectibles. You took my new cell phone and broke a laptop. You destroyed my school projects.” She laughs, and the sound is so broken it hurts me to hear it. “You even poisoned me once.”
“I…” I trail off, because as she speaks, the memories that I’d repressed or forgotten or chosen to exclude all come back to me. “Jesus, Etta. Fuck.”
“So now you understand why we can’t do this. Why this all has to be a mistake.”
“No,” I growl furiously.
“Nothing should ever have happened between us. You’re my bogeyman, Oz. You’re my monster under the bed. Nothing good can ever happen between us.”
“No,” I snarl again. “Fuck that. I refuse to lose you over something that happened fifteen years ago. I’ll make it up to you, I’ll make it right.”
Shaking her head, she wipes more tears away. Grabbing her face, I force her to look at me, then lean down and lick the tears from her cheeks. “Your pain is mine now, Etta. I caused it, so it’s mine to keep, mine to fix, mine to own. I hurt you, and I’m sorry. I could tell you I was a mixed-up, angry, hurt kid, but I know that won’t change the past. But I can change things now. I can rewrite our future in spite of our past. I can be your perfect fucking antihero, your bad guy, your monster.”
She tries to shake her head, but I hold her still, refusing to listen to her tell me I can’t have her.
“Listen to me, Etta. Fucking listen and hear me. I am not letting you go. I am not giving up on us. You live here. You sleep here. You follow my rules, and you let me fix this because there’s no other option. There’s no future for either of us that doesn’t start and end with us being together.”
“Oz,” she whimpers my name, and my heart fucking breaks, shattering into shards at the sound of the pain I caused her in her voice.
“I won’t let you go, Etta. If you try to leave me, I’ll hunt you down and bring you back. You want to be my good girl, don’t you, Little One? You want to be good for me, and I promise I won’t be bad for you. I’ll control you, I’ll consume you, I’ll fucking own every inch of you, but I won’t be your monster anymore. Let me be everything you need, Etta. Let me take all that hurt and pain and trauma. Let me take it all, and I’ll change it. I’ll morph our awful start into something fucking incredible.”
Tears keep dripping down her cheeks, but she doesn’t try to stop them or wipe them away. I’m hurting her by not letting her run away from this, but I can’t stop myself. I won’t stop. More and more memories of the fucked-up way I treated her keep popping into my head, and I know it’ll take a lifetime to make up for what I put her through, but I have the rest of my life to try, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.
“I made breakfast,” I rasp, clearing my throat as I lean forward and lick away the tears that are coating her cheeks. “Pancakes and fruit. Let me take care of you. Let me feed you.”
She starts to shake her head, but I grab her chin and stop her. “I’m going to feed you breakfast,” I tell her, not asking anymore.
Leaning forward, I slam my lips against hers, slipping my tongue into her mouth and bracing myself for her to not react, but within seconds, her hands are tangled in my hair and she’s kissing me back, her tongue eagerly entwined with mine.
“I’m going to love you so good,” I promise. “All you have to do is let me.” She doesn’t push me away when I kiss her again, and her body arches into my touch when I cup her breast, rolling her nipple between my finger and thumb.
Placing the breakfast tray on the floor, I lay her down on the bed and spread her legs, positioning myself on my stomach between them. I taste both me and her when I lick a path through her folds, and the taste is addictive. Maybe for some guys, tasting your own cum might be repulsive, but not with Etta. Knowing that I filled her cunt up with my cum is one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced, and still tasting me on her this morning just makes me want to fill her back up all over again.
Flipping her onto her stomach, I push her knees toward her chest, then spread her wide, burying my face in her cunt until she’s grinding herself against me and moaning my name.
Pulling her ass cheeks apart, I spear my tongue into her cunt, eagerly lapping her arousal as I tongue fuck her, gripping her tightly as she squirms. When I run my tongue up to her asshole, she freezes, tensing her ass so hard I chuckle against her.
“Get used to me eating your ass, Little One. I plan to fuck it soon.”
She doesn’t relax until I slip two fingers into her cunt and start to finger fuck her. I wasn’t lying, I definitely intend to get into her ass, but right now, I need her soft and desperate, not freaked out and tense.
Reaching beneath her, I find her clit with my fingers and start to roll and pinch it between my finger and thumb. Her breathing hitches, and I smile, scissoring my fingers and toying with her clit, until her hips start to buck and I know she’s close.
“Come for me, Little One. Let me hear it.”
Pressing the pad of my thumb over her clit, I rub in tight, fast circles until she tenses, then comes on a whimpering scream that makes my dick twitch as precum drips from the head.
“Such a good girl. Look at you coming on my fingers and soaking me with your cream,” I praise, pushing my boxers down over my butt and lining my dick up at her entrance.
Pressing my palm down between her shoulder blades, I slam into her, not giving her time to adjust before I pull back and slam into her again. Her fingers spread wide, then twist into the sheet as she struggles to find purchase. But I don’t need her to hold on because I don’t plan on letting her get away.
Grabbing her hips, I pull her back to meet every one of my demanding thrusts, fucking her hard and rough while she pants and moans.
“Look at this perfect little cunt taking my big dick. You were made for me, Etta. Made to be mine.”
She hums at the sound of my praise, letting me use her body like a fuck toy, eager to be filled.
“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you, Little One? You’ll let me love you, won’t you? You’ll let me show you how much you’re mine? Nothing that happened in the past can affect us now, because you’re mine and I’m yours, and this is our fucking future.”
Arching my back, I change the angle of my hips, and she immediately reacts. Her fingers scramble with the sheets as her moans change to mewls, and her cunt grips me so tightly I have to fuck her harder just to get in and out of her clenched muscles.
“Come for me. Be my perfect girl and soak my dick with your cum,” I order.
Her body follows my demand, and she cries out, pushing herself onto my dick and clamping down, while her cunt pulses and ripples as wave after wave of orgasm rushes through her.
I follow her over the edge almost immediately, pumping my release into her cunt, then holding it inside of her, plugging her channel with my dick.
“Oz,” she groans.
“Don’t move,” I snap.
“What?”
“Good girls stay on their fiancé’s cock until they’re told to move,” I growl, holding her hips tightly, not even allowing her space to wiggle.
“Fiancé,” she croaks.
“I agree, husband sounds better, but we can fix that this weekend.”
Instead of arguing, she falls quiet, and eventually, I reluctantly slide my cock out of her. Her slit is red and puffy, the skin glistening with a mixture of our arousals. Unable to resist, I push my fingers into her, shoving my cum as deep as I can get it, while I rub at her clit, until she comes with a shocked squeal.
“Are you okay?” I ask, slapping her butt playfully.
Squeaking, she flops to her side, then covers her face with her hands.
“Etta?”
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she whimpers.
“I told you I’m going to fix everything, all you have to do is let me.”
“What if I don’t want to let you?” she asks, her voice muffled by her hands.
“But you do, and you will.”
“Oz.”
“Little One, your cunt is full of my cum, and my dick is soaked with your cream. It makes me crazy mad when you lie to me, so don’t try to tell me you don’t want this.”
“Oz.” Her voice is small, but I won’t allow her to let what happened fifteen years ago ruin things for us now.
“Breakfast is cold, but the fruit and coffee are still good. Do you want to stay here or come downstairs while I make you some more pancakes?” I ask.
“Is me going back to my bedroom an option?”
“No,” I snap, dragging her across the bed and into my lap. Shuffling to the edge of the bed, I lift her into my arms and stride out of the door, ignoring the fact that my boxers are shoved under my ass and that my wet dick is slapping against my thigh with each step I take.
Once we get into the kitchen, I sit Etta down on the counter, forcing my way between her legs and wrapping my arms around her.
“Hug me back,” I order.
Her hands slowly lift and curl around my back.
“I’m going to make it all okay, Little One. I promise.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Sometimes there’s just too much history,” she says on a sad sigh.
“Not between us. History won’t fucking ruin us,” I tell her. “I wish I didn’t have to go back to work.”
“I really need to start looking for an apartment,” she whispers.
Anger flares in my chest, and pulling away from her, I glare down at her. “This is the last time I’m going to say this. You live here. Octy can move in with one of the guys. Danny won’t mind, but you live here now. Do I need to keep fucking you until you understand?”
Her eyes flash with hurt, and I swallow down my anger, pressing my lips together to stop myself from snarling at her again.
“I don’t want this,” she whispers.
“It’s too late for that,” I tell her coldly, letting her see the truth of my words and my newly forged obsession in my eyes.
Her eyes fill with tears, and for a moment I wonder if I should take her to town and pretend none of this ever happened, but I know I can’t. So instead, I urge her to lean back until she’s lying over the counter, her head hanging off the end, then I lift her legs and position her feet on the counter, her knees bent, her perfect, well-used cunt spread out for me.
She doesn’t protest or try to push me away as I hold her knees apart and lick her clit until she’s squirming and panting, then I straighten, drag her cunt to the edge, and fill her with my dick. Her sex is tight and wet with my cum, but knowing she’s already full of me only makes me harder.
Some instinctual, caveman part of me needs to keep her full of me, to know her body is being bombarded with my seed until it’s impossible for her not to get pregnant.
“Rub your clit,” I order.
“Oh god,” she whines.
“Show me how well-behaved you can be for me, Little One. Get your fingers on your clit and show me how you’ll play with your greedy little pussy when I’m not here to keep you full of my cock. From now on, when you send me pictures of your food, I’ll expect a picture of my very good girl rubbing her greedy little clit until she comes. I’ll let you play with your swollen little button, maybe even your ass, but your tight cunt is all mine. Mine to finger and lick and fill with my cum over and over until there’s so much of me in you it’s dripping out of you every time you take a breath. Maybe I’ll even get you a special plug, then once I’ve fucked you, I’ll plug your tight channel to keep me inside of you until I’m ready to fill you up all over again.”
Her fingers cover her clit, and she starts to rub slowly in cautious circles.
“I’m going to fuck you over and over again until you’re bred with my kid, Etta. I’ll never let you go. I’ll tie you to me in every way possible because you’re mine. My wife, the mother of my kids, my very, very good girl.”
Her orgasm splinters through her, and her cunt grips me tightly as her back arches up from the counter and she bares down on my cock, pushing her cunt onto me deeper than I’ve been before.
The feeling of her channel milking me pushes me over the edge, and I come on a guttural growl. Pulling back, I slam back into her, holding myself deep inside of her as release bursts from my cock, filling her up once again.
I feel it the moment all of her pleasure fades away, because her muscles go lax and her head lowers to hang over the side of the island counter. Slipping my hands beneath her, I slowly lift her up to a sitting position, urging her legs around my waist so I can stay seated inside of her for as long as possible.
I can feel the time ticking away until I have to go back to work, and I need to make sure she fully understands how things have changed before I go. Reluctantly slipping my dick out of her, I immediately fill her with my fingers, noticing her slight grimace of pain. I’ve used her too many times since I got back just a few hours ago. It’s probably for the best that I still have a couple of days left on shift, because if not, I’m not sure I could allow her the time to get used to how often I plan to be inside of her.
I enjoy sex, but I’ve never felt this driving need to brand someone the way I do with Etta. Our history is all kinds of fucked up, but the moment she stepped off that bus, her future was set. I’ll spend the rest of our lives correcting the mistakes I made with her in the past, but I’ll never let her go.
The sooner I get a ring on her finger and my baby in her belly, the sooner I’ll feel more settled, but for now, I’ll leave her cum-drunk and feeling the reminder that she’s mine in her cunt every time she moves.
Slowly pumping my fingers into her, I capture all of my cum that’s trying to seep out of her and push it back into her channel.
“Oz.” She winces.
“I know, Little One, but I need you to come for me one last time. I need to make sure your body sucks in as much of my cum as it can. I know you can do this.” Leaning forward, I flick her clit with my tongue as I push my cum as far inside her as I can get it. I feel her orgasm start to vibrate through her core the second I scrape my teeth over her clit, and moments later she screams out my name. By the time she’s panting, her eyes glazed and her muscles relaxed, I slip my fingers free of her, smiling at how wrung out and exhausted she looks.
“Do you want to eat first and then shower, or shower and I’ll make breakfast once we’re clean?”
“Shower,” she says weakly.
“Okay, Little One, you did so good. I’m so proud of you for taking all of my cum, you’re such a good girl.” Scooping her into my arms, I carry her bridal style out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
“You can’t say you’re proud of me for that,” she tries to protest.
“Why not? Your body is a fucking miracle. You’re tiny, and I’m not, and your pretty little pussy took all of my cock and then four loads of my cum. I’ve never given a woman a single drop, but I came so hard for you, I swear I filled you with a year’s worth of my cum. You took it all, then you came on my fingers because you knew that was the best way to keep all of me inside of you. I’m more than proud of you, I’m in awe of you. Even now, you’re pliant in my arms, letting me carry you upstairs so I can take care of you. You’re fucking perfect, Etta, and I’m a lucky fucking bastard to have you.”
She doesn’t speak, and when I glance down, her cheeks are pink like she’s embarrassed, but I don’t know why. Placing her on the counter, I cup her cheeks in my palms and press a soft, gentle kiss to her lips. I’ve been rough with her, and I need to make sure she knows I’m not just a mindless fucking animal, although I know she enjoyed my desperation as much as I did.
“Oz.” She sighs when I pull away and turn on the shower.
Hating the uncertainty in her voice, I reach in and turn on the water. “When I’m finished with work in a couple of days, we can have a nice, long soak together in the tub, but I want to make sure I feed you before I have to go back to base.”
“Does your boss know you’re here?” she asks.
“Yeah, he could see I was freaking out, so he told me to come. His woman lives two doors down, so he gets it.”
“I wish I got it,” she mutters.
Hooking her chin with my fingers, I tip her head back and force her to look at me. “What don’t you get, Little One?”
“I don’t get anything that’s happened since I stepped off the bus,” she confesses.
A soft chuckle falls from my lips, and a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Cute.”
“I had a hotel booked. I had a plan to avoid you. I hoped we’d never have to cross paths; I have no idea how I got…here.”
“All you need to know is that you’re mine, and my kid is taking seed in your belly right now.”
“I’m not pregnant,” she says on a choked gasp.
Spreading my fingers out over her tiny stomach, I smile. “If you’re not, then you will be soon.”
Slapping my hand away, her eyes go wide, and for a moment she freezes, clearly bracing herself for my reaction. When I don’t move, she tries to climb down from the counter, but she’s tiny and awkward, and I easily sidestep and block her. “Where exactly do you think you’re going?” I growl, not wanting to scare her but needing her to accept her new reality.
“I need to leave. I need a drugstore and a Plan B and possibly inpatient psychiatric help,” she mumbles, more to herself than me.
Chuckling, I lift her off the counter and carry her into the shower stall, closing the glass behind me. Lowering her to her feet, I reach for a washcloth and some soap and slowly start to bathe her.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
“Washing you.”
“Why?”
“Because I like taking care of you.”
“Are you sure you’re not a daddy dom?”
“I’m sure. I definitely never want you to call me daddy. I have no interest in contracts, playing roles, or doing scenes.”
“I thought you didn’t know what a daddy dom was?” she asks suspiciously.
“I didn’t until you asked me if I was one, then I did a little research,” I admit. It took me a Google search and about five very uncomfortable minutes to know that I don’t have any interest in any kind of daddy dom, little girl arrangement with Etta. Sure, a lot of the things it said a daddy would do for his little are things I want with her. But the age play and a lot of the other dynamics are not my kink. But I don’t need a title or a kink name to describe what I want from her. I simply want to control her, care for her, and keep her. I want my ring on her finger, and my baby filling her womb. I want her to be mine and for her to do what I tell her to, because it’s the only thing that feels right for both of us.
“Would you drop me off in town if I started calling you daddy?” she asks with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
“No. If you call me daddy, I’ll call you brat, bend you over my knee, and spank your ass raw with my belt.”
Her nose wrinkles, and fear flashes in her eyes. “I don’t want that.”
“Spanking not your thing?” I tease.
“No, I don’t like pain.”
“Me either, I prefer pleasure and… praise .”
Swallowing thickly, her pupils dilate.
“You like it too, don’t you, Little One? You love being my good girl , don’t you?”
Sucking in a sharp inhale, she shakes her head. “No,” she lies.
“Don’t lie to me, Etta. I can see the way you light up when I tell you how perfect you are, how well you take my cock, how you’re my very good girl .”
She shakes her head, but her body can’t hide her reaction to my praise, and she visibly shudders with every compliment and affirmation I give her.
“Do you need me to prove it to you, Little One? I know your pussy is sore, but I’m happy to use your mouth or ass to prove my point and show you just how much you love being good for me. And you do, don’t you Etta? You love being my very. Good. Girl.”
Pushing my hand between us, I cup her pussy, and she cries out.
“Good girls get to come on my fingers. Bad girls get their assholes rimmed, then fucked, your choice.”
“No,” she squeals, reaching behind her and covering her ass.
“Then don’t fucking lie to me.”
“I like it,” she says, but the sound is barely louder than a whisper.
“What do you like? Tell me.” I’m being an asshole right now, but she needs to learn that I won’t let her pretend that she doesn’t love every second of what’s happened between us.
“I…” She tries to look away, but I force her to keep her eyes on me.
“You what?”
“I like…being your good girl.” She says the last few words so fast they’re barely discernible. I could make her say it again, but I think I’ve made my point.
Smiling to myself, I continue to wash her, making sure every inch of her from the tips of her fingers to the ends of her toes is clean. Instead of using the cloth, I coat my hands in soap and gently work it over her tits, teasing her nipples until they pebble into sharp peaks.
Getting more soap, I bend down to my knees and look up at her. “Spread your legs.”
“Oz.”
“Etta.”
Sighing, she shuffles her feet apart a few inches.
“Wider.”
She moves a further inch.
“I already warned you what brats get.”
She immediately parts her legs, and I smile as I lean down and press a kiss against her clit before I soap up her well-used folds. “This is mine now,” I say, parting her sex so I can push a single finger carefully into her. “You can play with this…” I push back the hood of her clit and tap the bundle of nerves with my fingertip. “Or this…” I slip away from her clit and move back until I’m pushing my finger between her cheeks and pressing at her tight rosebud.
“Oz,” she gasps.
“But you don’t touch your cunt, okay? That’s mine, if I find out you’ve been putting anything inside my pussy, I’ll assume you need more of my cock. I’m more than happy to take a sabbatical from work and spend all my day filling you over and over with my cum.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Certifiable,” I agree. “I’m not your monster anymore, Etta, I’m your fucking everything.”