17. Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Elsie
P rincess.
Suddenly, I’m not tired, and the last thing on my mind is a nap.
Now I’m needy. Needy for him.
“Daddy,” I whisper, our gazes connecting with storms of desire in our eyes.
“Does my princess need something?” He asks me in a deep rumble, making my pussy clench.
“I need you to take your clothes off.” I breathe out. “Now.”
His smirk smolders hot with a flame of desire that matches my own. “As my princess wishes.”
In one swift movement, he pulls off his tight gray t-shirt, revealing his bare chest to me.
I take in his body, taught and toned by the hard labor he does for work and all of the tattoos that cover him.
All of the art on his body is detailed to the point of realism. The octopus on his right hand is always visible, but I didn’t quite realize the art snaked all the way up his arm, creating a complete scene of ocean life on his arm, starting at his shoulder. On his left bicep is a beautiful depiction of a dragon.
When he moves to unbutton his jeans, I step up to him and stop the movement, guiding his hands to his sides.
“I want to explore you,” I say reverently, my hands moving up to trace over his hardened muscles and intricate tattoos. For the first time it doesn’t feel as frantic so I take a moment to appreciate the tattoos and his body. “These are beautiful. How long have you had them?”
“I started my full sleeve years ago when I got my first job on a rig at eighteen. Found an artist who liked ocean shit, and we worked on it for about two solid years. The other I had done a year ago.” He says, his gaze never leaving my face.
“Because you’re a dragon?” I chuckle.
“Kind of? It’s not really a dragon. More dragon-esque.” He replies, his face contorted as he thinks of how to explain it. “A couple of years ago, I took a long break between rig jobs. I went back to Mexico to visit mis abuelos for a summer, and while I was there, Abuela took me to the markets with her.” My grandparents . Grandma . He says, his brown eyes glittering with mirth. “We would walk past these shops with all these colorfully painted Alebrijes.”
The unfamiliar word has me frowning.
“It’s a type of folk art, and they’re all sorts of magical and fantastical creatures: leopards with talons and wings, birds with snake-like tails, and whatnot.” He smiles and reaches to smooth out my furrowed brow with his thumb. “They’re painted in these beautiful colorful patterns. No two Alebrijes are alike. Everyone is different and unique.”
“Just like you,” I say.
“Sort of.” He says, much more serious now. “Abuela is a very religious woman, goes to her parish every Sunday without fail and confession twice a week. The whole nine yards. But she’s also a spiritual woman.”
“Isn’t it the same thing?” I ask.
“Not always. Religion is one thing; belief in the spiritual is another.” He shrugs. “Abuela believes that we have guardian angels, spirit guides, or protectors. There was one time when we were walking through a market, and she stopped dead in her tracks. I thought she was having a heart attack or something because she just froze in place and clutched her chest.”
His expression grows worried, like he’s reliving the memory in this very moment.
“Then she turns to the man in the shop doorway and starts speaking to him so quickly I couldn’t keep up. But basically, she argued with this man for ten minutes over whatever had her so worked up. The man eventually gave up and motioned for her to follow him.”
He shakes his head with a smile at the memory.
“When she comes out, she hands me this bag and says, ‘Este es vuestro futuro, Orejotas. Tómalo. Atesoralo. No te sueltes.’ and keeps walking down through the market like nothing big had happened.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, shaking my head.
“What do you mean?”
“No, I literally don’t understand. I can’t translate in my head. ”
“This is your future, Marshall. Take it. Treasure it. Don’t let go.”
“Okay. That word definitely doesn’t mean Marshall.” I smile. “Pretty sure she called you ears.”
“Nope. Marshall. Nothing big about my ears at all.” He laughs.
“What was in the bag?” I ask.
“Eight little carvings. A dragon, a horse, and six smaller animals.” He shrugs. “They’re on the shelf.”
“These? They’re beautiful.” I say, turning to the desk by his bed and picking up one of the smaller figurines in awe.
“Yeah. So last year, I brought the dragon with me to my artist, and we came up with this design.” He shrugs the shoulder with the intricately designed dragon.
“It looks so real.” I brush my fingers along the design. “But I see the inspiration now. The little designs on the dragon’s scales. The way his eyes are shaped.” I pause. “Did you ever figure out what they mean?”
His face grows contemplative. “I’ve had guesses throughout the years, but I don’t think any of them were right.”
“So, what does it mean to you? The dragon, I mean.” I ask.
“I think it represents me in a way. And in another, I like to think of it as my guide, my guardian angel.” He reaches to cup my face with his right hand. “The world offers us many opportunities to become who we want to be, Elsie. We’re pieces of everything. Our past, our present, our future. It all makes us who we are.” He takes a steadying breath. “But it does give us a choice. In our present and our future. We always have a choice for better, for more .”
“Right now, the only thing I want more of is your cock.” I smirk .
“Your wish is my command.” He says, reaching down to unbuckle his jeans and shuck off his boots and clothes.
A naked Marshall is a sight to behold, and I can’t help but let my jaw drop in awe as I take in his body.
“Someone’s slacking.” He smirks, motioning to my fully clothed form.
He takes a step toward me, his hard cock bobbing with the movement, and I scramble to undress out of my sundress.
“What do you say, princess? You want to take Daddy’s cock like a good girl?” He rumbles, sending a shiver up my spine. “Is that what you want? Tell me, princess.”
“I need you, Daddy,” I murmur. “But what about...”
He cuts me off with a powerful kiss. His lips press against my own with a blistering heat between us that could burn the world to the ground.
Every touch of his skin against mine fans the flame of my desire and need.
“Say it.” He growls into my lips. “You have to ask for it, Elsie.”
“Please, Daddy. Fuck me.” I pant out between kisses. “I need you to fuck me.”
I reach down and wrap my small hand around his cock, causing a small groan to escape his lips.
“How do you want my cock, princess? You want me to fuck you slow and soft or hard and fast?” He purrs into my ear.
“Hard. Fast.” I pant out.
“Good girl.”
His hands come to my hips, and he pulls me in, giving me another searing kiss before spinning me around and nudging me toward the quilt-covered bed.
“On your knees.” He growls .
Quickly, I crawl on the bed, positioning myself so I’m on my hands and knees, pussy on full display for Marshall where he stands.
“Like this, Daddy?” I ask playfully, looking over my shoulder at his perfect form.
“Just like that, princess.” He smirks. “Now, stay quiet, or the others will hear.”
I prop myself up and turn to him more fully. “Let them.”
A raging fire burst to flame behind his eyes at my challenge. All softness from earlier is gone, and all that remains is a primal desire between us.
Marshall’s hands on my ass are like a brand, claiming me with his touch. He strokes his palms over my round ass, giving it a light squeeze.
“You look so perfect for me like this.” He says reverently, moving one hand to run his fingers between my folds. “Already so wet for me. All for me.”
Our eyes are locked together as he brings his fingers up to his lips and licks off my flavor.
“Divine.” He whispers.
His hands drop back to my ass, and he lines himself up with my center. With a single thrust, he buries himself inside me. His thick cock filling me up completely and making me moan loudly.
“Good girl. Let them hear how good your Daddy makes you feel, princess.” He says, pulling out and pushing back in slowly to give me time to adjust to his size. “Cry out and tell them just how good you are for me.”
“So good.” I moan. “More. I need more.”
“As the princess wishes.” He says with a sharp thrust .
His hips slam into me at a frantic pace. His tempo quick enough to have me building to climax in no time.
I’m constantly horny these days, and our sex is so hot and regular at this point to where he knows my body nearly as well as I do.
But his words, his words are what have me careening toward bliss.
“I’m gonna fill you up, princess. My cock and cum are yours.” He grunts out. “Gonna fill you with my seed and have you walk around with it dripping down your thighs for the rest of the day.”
“Daddy,” I whine, needing what he says to be true.
I want his claim and his cum. There’s a part of me terrified to be so completely owned by him, to be publicly his like this even if we’re the only ones who know.
But another part of me knows this is exactly what I want.
“Give it to me, daddy.” I groan.
Marshall reaches around and finds my clit with ease and pinching it between his fingers. The sharp sensation has me biting down on the palm of my hand to contain my scream.
The shock that rolls through my body has me trembling through my release. Every wave of my orgasm is somehow more powerful than the last, but Marshall doesn’t relent.
He keeps his pace pounding in and out of me, making the bed squeak and groan underneath us until his breath is ragged.
I’m gripping tightly to the bed, trying not to be pushed off the other side, when I feel his pace falter.
“So close.” He moans. “Take it. Take my cum like the good princess you are.”
“Yes, Daddy.” I groan .
Warmth floods my body as he comes and releases inside of me. His cum trickles out of my cunt and down my thighs as he pulls out, sending a shiver through my body once again.
I collapse into the bed, spent from only a few minutes of a good hard fuck.
Marshall helps maneuver me so I’m entirely on the bed before sitting beside me and pulling the blanket at the foot of the bed up around my shoulders.
“You good?” He asks a slight hesitation in his voice.
“Mhmm.” I nod, my thoughts already fuzzy from pleasure.
He chuckles. “I’m gonna go downstairs while you rest.” He gives me a kiss on the forehead. “Thank you for letting me take care of you.”
I’m already drifting off to sleep as I hear him getting dressed, and I’m out like a light before he’s even able to close the door fully.
“Sleep well, princess. Dream of good things.” He whispers.