Chapter 25
Devyn slides the spaghetti strap onto her shoulder, the thin fabric catching the light as it settles against her skin. Her fingers reach behind her, finding the short zipper, and she eases it up her back with a slow, deliberate motion that makes my jaw tighten and my pulse skyrocket.
Every inch of her is on display in this dress.
There’s no liner, just delicate black lace that reveals everything it’s pretending to conceal.
Through the intricate web of fabric, I can see the curve of her ass, the perfect roundness of it, the crease where it meets her thighs, and that shadow beneath it that leads to heaven.
The lace clings to her curves, and when she shifts slightly, turning to check her reflection in the mirror, I can see her pussy through the sheer panel at the front, the slit barely veiled by the pattern.
Blood rushes to my already swelling cock with such speed it makes me dizzy.
My throbbing length jutting into the zipper of my jeans, hard and insistent, straining against the denim until the metal teeth bite into my flesh.
The pain is a sharp, welcome distraction from the overwhelming need to claim her.
When she fully turns around, facing me, the sight nearly undoes me.
The lace cups her breasts like hands, the dark circles of her areola visible through the pattern, her nipples already peaked and poking through the delicate threads.
Lower, the fabric drapes over her hips, doing nothing to hide the cleft of her pussy or the arousal glistening at the apex of her thighs.
The dress cocoons her endless fucking legs, extending down to the strappy black heels that wrap around her ankles like ribbons.
She’s a vision in sin. A fucking wet dream in the flesh. It is unreasonable to expect me to sit here and behave.
I adjust my cock, palming the rigid length through my jeans, trying to relieve some of the pressure. The sensation makes me groan despite myself. “Fuck,” I rasp.
Devyn walks from the closet, closing the distance between us with a sway in her hips that she probably doesn’t even realize she’s doing.
The lace shifts with each step, revealing and concealing in equal measure, playing peekaboo with her nipples and her pussy.
She’s modeling it for me, putting on a show, and the innocence and seduction in her expression snaps the last thread of my control.
I push from the chair, the wood scraping on the floor, stalking toward her before I’ve fully registered the decision to move.
She stops, her breath hitching, and I see her rapid pulse fluttering in her throat.
I don’t stop until I’m right in front of her, until I’ve caged her against the wall with my body, my hands braced on either side of her head, and my hips pinning hers.
She’s trapped. And she’s mine.
I lower my head, my mouth finding the column of her throat.
I kiss my way along her neck, sucking and biting as I mark her with my teeth and tongue.
She tastes like salty sweetness, and I can’t get enough.
I move over her shoulder, my lips tracing the strap of the dress.
Catching it with my teeth, I slip it over her shoulder.
The fabric falls away, the lace sliding from her chest until her breast tumbles free.
The dress hangs precariously low, her taut nipple on display, begging for my mouth.
Worried about the outrageously priced couture, she breathlessly starts, “Careful, Gun—”
l back just enough to meet her eyes, my expression stern and commanding.
“Daddy,” I correct roughly. “You call me Daddy when I’m making you feel good, baby girl.
You know that.” Her eyes widen, and her lips part on a gasp.
A shiver runs through as her pupils dilate, and she presses her thighs together.
She loves it when I take control, when I remind her who she belongs to. She loves when I make her mine.
My hands dust down her sides, the lace rough against my palms, and the heat of her skin radiating through the mesh. I glide over the curve of her waist and the flare of her hips as I dip my head, capturing her nipple in my mouth without warning.
She cries out, her back arching and hands flying to my hair.
I suck hard, pulling the peak in deep, rolling it against my tongue and feeling it pebble even tighter.
I lavish attention on her—sucking, biting, and soothing with my tongue—until she’s writhing against the wall.
I release her nipple with a wet pop, the sound obscene in the quiet room.
Dropping to my knees before her, I am eye level with her pussy.
I can smell her sweet, musky arousal through the dark lace covering her mound.
Pressing my face against her, I kiss her through the fabric, mouthing her cunt through the lace.
She whimpers as her hands thread through my hair, gripping it tight. “The dress,” she protests desperately.
My large hands find the delicate fabric at the crease of her hips, my fingers poking through as I grip tight.
I pull back just enough to snarl, “Fuck the dress.” With a single, violent motion, I tear through it, shredding the expensive couture like tissue paper.
I don’t stop until it’s torn apart, from her pussy to the hem that dusts her strappy black heels.
Devyn gasps, and I glance up to see her staring at me with wide, shocked eyes.
The dress hangs from her body in tatters, the lace destroyed, revealing her completely.
Her smooth, shaved pussy is glistening with wetness mere inches from my face.
Without hesitation, I hoist her leg over my shoulder, spreading her wide, and bury my face between her thighs.
She cries out—a sharp, broken sound—as my tongue delves through her slit, tasting her. She’s so fucking sweet and perfect.
The smell.
The taste.
I can’t get enough.
I moan against her, the vibration making her jerk.
I feast on her violently, my tongue stabbing into her entrance, circling her clit, and sucking the sensitive nub between my lips.
I’m demanding her orgasm, commanding it with every stroke of my tongue and nip of my teeth.
She’s panting above me, her hands gripping my hair hard, the burn radiating over my scalp, with her hips bucking against my face as she rides my mouth.
“Please,” she whimpers, “Please, Daddy…”
I growl into her, the sound vibrating through her clit, causing her thighs to tighten around my head and her heel to dig into my back.
She comes with a scream, her body convulsing and pussy pulsing against my tongue.
I lap at her incessantly, drinking her down, prolonging her pleasure until she’s sobbing my name and her leg is shaking so hard, she can barely hold her own weight.
Standing slowly, my face wet with her, I spin her around before she can recover.
Her palms slap against the wall, and I tear the rest of the ruined fabric from her body—ripping the dress completely away until she’s naked, except for her strappy black heels.
I undo my pants with rough, desperate movements, freeing my cock.
It springs free, landing heavily against her supple ass cheek.
I pin her arms to the wall above her head, gripping both her wrists in one large palm. Holding her still, I kick her feet apart, spreading her legs. With my free hand, I grip my cock and slide it through her slick pussy until I’m thoroughly coated in her wetness.
“Look at you,” I growl in her ear, my voice guttural and animalistic. “Soaked for me. Ready for me. Tell me you want it, baby girl. Tell me you want Daddy’s cock.”
“I want it,” she whimpers, her cheek pressed against the wall and her voice broken. “Please, Daddy… Please give me your cock.”
I thrust into her with one hard stroke, burying myself to the hilt as we both groan at the sensation. She’s so fucking tight and wet, her silky pussy perfectly gripping me like a vise. Her walls flutter around me, and I stay still for a moment, letting adjusting to my size. Owning her.
Pulling back, I nearly withdraw from her before snapping my hips forward.
I fuck her hard against the wall, driving my cock deep with every thrust. The wet, sharp sound of our bodies meeting fills the room, mixing with her delicious moans and my grunts.
Pinned to the wall, I give her everything she needs, using her body for my own pleasure.
“Such a good girl for Daddy,” I pant into the back of her neck, my breath hot over her skin. “Taking my cock so deep. You love this, don’t you? Being fucked against the wall like Daddy’s dirty little slut.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she sobs, her hips pushing back to meet my thrusts.
“You’re mine,” I growl, increasing my pace until it is brutal and relentless. “This pussy is mine. This body is mine. Made to be used by me. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”
“Yours,” she gasps, “Only yours, Daddy.”
I feel her tightening around me as her orgasm builds.
Reangling my hips, I hit that spot, the one that makes her scream.
She comes again with a wail, her pussy clamping down on my cock so hard it almost hurts.
Her whole body shakes violently, her legs struggling to hold her upright, but I don’t relent.
I fuck her through it, riding out her orgasm and not letting her come down.
But I want more. I need more. I need her in my bed, spread out and helpless for me.
I pull out of her abruptly, and she whimpers at the loss, her body swaying.
I scoop her into my arms before she can fall, lifting her easily, before striding toward her bed.
Dropping her from my arms, she lands on the mattress with a soft bounce that causes her beautiful tits to jiggle.
When she settles, her hair splays across the pillows like a halo.
Tearing my shirt over my head and shoving my jeans down my legs, I race to strip off my clothes.
I’m naked within seconds, my cock bobbing against my stomach as I grab Devyn’s ankles and roughly yank her ass to the edge of the bed.
A breathy, startled cry blows over her lips, silenced when I slam into her with a single brutal drive of my hips.
I look down to where we’re joined and watch my cock, glistening with her wetness, disappearing into her tight little pussy again and again.
The sight is obscenely beautiful.
Lifting her legs, I rest her beautiful, heeled feet on my shoulders.
I fuck her hard, my hips pistoning, the bed shaking with the force of my thrusts.
Her tits bounce with every impact, a sight I can barely pull my eyes away from.
My mouth finds her ankle, and I kiss her sloppily and open-mouthed, my tongue tracing the strap of her heel and arch of her foot.
“You take my cock so good,” I grunt against her calf, my voice strained. “So fucking good, baby girl. You were made for this. Made for me. This tight little cunt is just waiting for Daddy to fill it.”
She moans, her hands gripping the sheets as her head throws back. “Oh God! Yes! Daddy!”
“Are you going to come again for Daddy?” My pace is merciless. “Come on. One more. Come on my cock like a good girl. Let me feel you squeeze me.”
Her walls flutter, and her breath falters to sharp gasps, every muscle in her body tensing beneath me. She’s so fucking close. I reach between us, my thumb finding her clit and rubbing it in tight circles. I work the sensitive nub hard, demanding her release.
She comes with a scream that tears from her throat, her back arching off the bed, and her pussy clamping down on my cock so hard that it’s my undoing.
My orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, starting at the base of my spine and exploding outward.
I roar as I spill into her, thick, hot pulses that fill her little pussy with my cum.
My rhythm falters, and I thrust through every twitch of my cock until I’m spent.
I collapse over her, my chest heaving and heart racing.
Both of us are breathless, the smell of sex and sweat enveloping us.
My lips meet hers, and I kiss her tenderly, relishing in the soft sounds that fill my mouth.
I climb onto the bed fully, pulling her with me and arranging her limp body on top of mine.
We lie there in silence, our breaths slowly returning to normal.
She curls into me, her head on my chest, and her leg thrown over mine.
Dusting my fingers up and down her spine, I pepper kisses on the top of her head, still unable to get enough of her, as she traces patterns through the short hair on my chest.
She snuggles deeper into me, and with her voice muffled against my skin, she playfully says, “Leslie is going to be so mad at you when she finds out she has to call that designer.”