Chapter 4
HAYES
I had no idea why I just said that. I’d never in my life told a woman to call me Mr. Wilder before.
She’d said Daddy in that soft, tentative voice of hers and I almost came in my pants.
I was so hard, I hurt. My balls were fucking blue and my dick was telling me to spin her back around and fuck her.
I could stare at those hand prints as they wobbled as I fucked her from behind.
What the actual fuck?
I didn’t have a Daddy kink. Or, I thought I didn’t. No, I didn’t want her to call me that. But she definitely needed to know that I was in charge and that if she did stupid shit like she did tonight with her safety, she was going to remember it with a sore ass and who gave it to her.
Me. Not Hayes, but Mr. Wilder.
I was going to hell. She was eighteen. Eighteen, and I could feel the little ball of her panties in the front pocket of my jeans. I hadn’t missed that they were damp. That she’d creamed for me.
I tipped her chin up a little more so her throat was exposed.
I slid my hand down, wrapped it around it.
With her eyes wide, cheeks flushed, hair mussed from the bull ride, my dick spurted pre-cum in my jeans imagining her like this on her knees.
I could do it. Right now, I could push her to the ground and she’d look up at me in the exact same way.
I’d tell her to pull out my dick, open her mouth and I’d teach her how to deep throat me.
I’d pull back, emptying onto her tongue and she’d keep it stuck out and show me.
“I’m… I’m sorry, Mr. Wilder,” she said.
“Fuck,” I whispered, losing my fucking mind.
I let go of her throat and stepped back.
It was a good thing too, because not a second later, she bent at the waist and threw up all over the pavement.
I grabbed her hair, held it back from her face as all the beer and definitely that shot, came back up.
When she was done, I tugged on her hair, pulled her head back so I could wipe her mouth with a bandana I pulled from the pocket that didn’t hold her panties, but she slumped.
She was passed out before I caught her in my arms.
“Fuck,” I whispered again, this time to the summer breeze. She was in my arms now. A soft handful. I’d seen that taut, youthful ass, saw it with my handprints on it. She’d called me Mr. Wilder. I had her panties.
Now I held her to me, felt her curves, her warmth. Her sweetness.
She needed me. I was never letting her go.