Chapter 6
SIX
Deke
Christ, what am I doing?
I should not be laying this young girl down in my bed and stripping off my shirt. Kicking off my boots. Getting ready to fuck her.
No. Not fuck.
Make love. An area in which I have zero expertise.
I’ve never made love in my goddamn life.
But I can still see her face when I called her a cum dump.
That devastation. It’s haunting me right now, especially after seeing that in-depth scrapbook, as I flick open the button of my jeans and look down at June.
She’s gorgeous in the way fire is gorgeous, her red hair fanned out around her face, her shadows catching on her cheekbones.
A siren. Way too young for me. Way too innocent.
A girl who is confused as to whether I’m a father figure or a sex symbol.
I hate myself for being turned on by that. Believe me, I do.
I’ve always spent my time with age-appropriate women. Older women, even.
But something strange and chemical happens inside of me when I think of this girl—just June—calling me Daddy.
Trusting me with her virginity because I’m the man who provides and cares and protects her.
I don’t know where this urge is coming from, to be all those things for her, but my balls are drawn up tight as fuck thinking about it.
I want to be the ideal she built up in her head.
I want to reward her for waiting for me.
She waited for me.
God, is that supposed to make me so hard? Knowing she probably turned down hundreds of men, if not thousands, because she wanted my cock inside of her first?
Daddy’s cock. It needed to be Daddy.
Oh hell. Stop thinking like that. It’s sick.
I can’t seem to help it, though. I feel a sense of ownership for this girl, and it only gets stronger as the night goes on.
That front desk clerk is lucky he walked away with his teeth after he asked out my June Bug.
It’s too soon to think of her like that.
As mine. But common sense didn’t follow me into this room.
I may have abandoned it in my dressing room as soon as she walked in.
It’s like my body and mind knew she was important.
Her gaze is drawn to the zipper of my jeans where it juts out shamelessly.
She bites her lip, reaches down to unbutton her own jeans, working them down her hips.
I take hold of the ankles and drag the denim the rest of the way, groaning when she reveals a pair of little white panties, a noticeable damp spot on the crotch.
“Someone’s excited for her first time.” I hook my index finger in the waistband of her underwear and slowly, slowly drag them down her thighs, revealing her tender-looking cunt, bare and sealed tight.
I trace the seam with my index finger, groaning over how smooth she is.
“When you fantasized about my cock here, did I leave a creampie behind?”
Her stomach hollows on a shudder. “Yes,” she whispers.
I bite back a guttural curse. “You on the Pill?”
She nods.
“Smart girl.” I nudge open her closed flesh and tease her clit, her hips jolting sideways on the mattress. “Although hell, I’m not sure the Pill can handle the amount of sperm Daddy is going to put inside this wet little cunt tonight.”
June’s sob rents the air, her back arching off the bed.
I watch in growing obsession as wetness spreads along her flesh, down to the tops of her inner thighs. “Please…”
“Please what?”
“Get on top of me.”
“That’s exactly where I want to be, baby.
I’m just making sure I’m under control first.” Bracing for what I know is going to be hell on my senses, I position myself above June and slowly press her down into the mattress, big and rough on top of sweet and supple, my dick throbbing every time one of her curves locks into place against me, my bulge finding a soft home between her legs.
Ohhh God. Just like that. Right there. I rock my much heavier body on top of hers and we tumble into a kiss, our mutual moan of satisfaction pouring through me like hot oil, that luscious body inviting me to fuck it hard.
That’s all I know how to do and now, I’m being presented with the female I want to fuck the hardest, fastest, urgently, so urgently, but June needs care. Lovemaking.
She needs to be guided through it by a worthy man.
A man worth his salt.
I want to be that for her, instead of some cynical, washed-up alcoholic.
And God, I want to make up for the fucked-up way I acted.
“Can you be inside of me now?” she gasps in between deep, head-spinning kisses.
“No, baby,” I say, my voice like gravel, because son-of-a-bitch, her mouth tastes like sugar and she squirms beneath me every time our tongues lick together, her thighs trembling around my hips.
June loves making out. That much is clear.
I’ve raced to the main event my whole life, but now I’m being offered a mouth that is inexperienced and honest and gasping and it’s like I’ve never been alive until now.
She’s so eager, so responsive, I can’t think straight.
I maul her mouth again, again, again, humping her through my jeans, and she gives.
June pours everything into her kisses. Trust like I’ve never experienced. Trust like I couldn’t possibly deserve.
“Be inside of me,” she whines against my lips, imploring me with those green eyes.
“It’ll hurt if I put it in now, June Bug,” I say, licking into her mouth. “I need to finger your pussy some to get it ready. I want you screaming in pleasure, not pain.”
She pouts at me, and God almighty, I almost give in and pump myself into that little hole between her legs. She’s so sexy and pure, the ache in my dick echoes in my bones. I want her with my whole body, inside and out. If I could feel anything but sharp, urgent need, I’d probably be terrified.
I break the kiss and I’m immediately desperate to get my mouth back on her.
Somewhere, anywhere. I yank up the hem of her tank top and almost unload my wad over my first look at her breasts.
“Oh shit. Jesus!” I reach down and crank my cock a few times with a brutal fist, my teeth drawing blood from my bottom lip. “Your tits are going to make me come.”
Her features are astonished. “But…really?”
My fist works up and down the trunk of my dick, and I shudder through a moan, mesmerized by the rosy shade of her nipples. “Touch them for me, baby.”
“Like this?” she asks, innocently plucking at the buds.
“Ohhhh God,” I growl. “I want to nut all over them.”
“You can do whatever you want with them,” she whispers. “You’re my D—”
I stop her flow of words with a hard kiss, because I know what she’s going to say.
I know she’s on the verge of calling me Daddy, but I can’t withstand that kind of pleasure all at once without blowing my sperm all over the bedding.
I’m not exaggerating when I say her ripe and rosy tits are the hottest things I’ve ever seen.
My cock is never going to be soft again, now that I know those bouncy dick-teasers exist. I’m going to be in agony and ecstasy for the rest of my life, wishing my face was buried between them.
Another time, though.
She’s horny and I’m on the verge of detonating.
I don’t have enough willpower right now for much foreplay, and her pussy is my primary concern. I give each of her gorgeous tits a savoring kiss, before dragging an open-mouthed path down her stomach to her mound, rolling my face side to side in the wetness.
“Fuuuuck,” I grind out through my teeth. “You don’t even know what you’re wet for yet. You just know it’s time.”
“Yes. Please,” she hiccups, her fingers twinging in my hair.
I lick apart her flesh and shudder hotly at the fresh sluice of moisture, how it drips off my tongue as I go to work, rubbing the stiffened length of my tongue against her clit, her trembling thighs hugging the sides of my face, her whimpers filing the room, the coconut taste of her like an aphrodisiac.
She’s like a delicious piece of ripe fruit, succulent and juicy, wetter than a virgin should be for cock.
But she trusts me. That makes her taste even sweeter.
“Here come my fingers.” I make small side-to-side movements with my lips on top of her clit while my fingers delve inside, my eyes opening wide in shock to find June can only take one finger.
The middle one. “Christ, you keep your legs crossed tight for twenty years, didn’t you, baby?
No one was going to touch you here but me. ”
“Uh-huh,” she sobs. “What if you can’t fit, though?”
“June Bug,” I grind out, spitting on her too-snug cunt. “I’ll cancel the rest of the tour before I leave this bed without popping that pretty cherry.”
She’s mid-moan when I go back to my task, stretching her with my middle finger, winding and twisting into her wet channel, lapping at her clit for everything I’m worth while she gets more and more used to me.
Finally, when she’s lifting her hips to meet the thrusts of my finger, I add the second one and she takes it.
Just barely, but it’s in there, her flesh suctioning around my knuckles, her juice dripping all over my callouses and wrist.
She’s fucking divine.
A miracle.
And I can’t wait any longer. I need to pound this tight thing into next week.
I can’t believe I’ve lasted this long when she’s this fucking perfect.
I’ve already got her balanced on the precipice of an orgasm, but when I tickle her G-spot with the pad of my middle finger and bear down on her clit with a stiff lick, it’s like firing an arrow at a bullseye.
Her scream is sweeter than any music I could ever make, her pleasure full-bodied and feminine. I could survive on it, I swear to God.
Wiping my dripping chin off on my fist, I come up over the top of June, noting her bright, glazed eyes, the way her thighs spread open, offering me her innocence with such eager obedience.
She’s panting, those incredible breasts heaving up and down.
She’s dewy with sweat and half of it is mine.
Between her legs, she’s shiny with spit and her own come.
Sweet hell.