Hot Single Dad(10)

By: Mia Madison



I should leave her there, but I can’t. I should walk right out that bedroom door but instead I go over and close it, blocking out the light from the hall. I sit beside her on the bed. “I’m not going to take you now, Holly. I meant what I said. But I can’t leave you like this either. I’m going to make you come, come hard, and then I’m going to let you sleep. Call this a preview to help you make up your mind.”





CHAPTER 11


Holly




He switches on the lamp by the bed and lies down beside me. He kisses me and my mouth opens to his, our tongues entwined, exploring in a dance full of sexual intent. I could go on all night like that, savoring the sweetness of him, breathing in the man scent of him, of Reid, lying here beside me.

“God, Holly, what you do to me,” he murmurs. “My cock is hating me right now for saying no to you.”

“Don’t say no, then.” I gasp as his hands graze my breasts, roaming over my nipples that are jutting right through my bra and dress, begging to be freed.

“Not going to happen,” he says, pulling the neckline of my dress and the cup of my bra down. “This time is going to be for your pleasure only.” His hot mouth engulfs my nipple and he sucks hard. I almost come then. But then he eases the pressures and starts licking, tiny little licks of the hardened tip.

“And you’re hating every moment?” I manage to tease, though I can hardly breathe with what he is doing to my nipples, alternating between each one, sucking and licking. Then he gathers both breasts in his hands, pushing them together and runs his tongue from one peak across to the other, over and over until I am squirming, my thighs moving against each other. I know I am wet and ready for him.

“Yes. It’s pure torture.” He makes a noise in his throat, a laugh that turns into a low growl, as his hands stroke my inner thighs beneath my dress, getting closer and closer to my soaked underwear. Oh god, he’s going to know how turned on I am.

“Yes, torture,” he insists. “Seeing and sucking your perfect tits. Wanting to bury my cock in you when I can’t.”

His fingers reach the top of my thighs and the sopping evidence of my desire for him, but any feeling of shame I had is squashed by my need to have his fingers explore me there.

“Fuck, Holly, you’re trying to kill me, you’re so fucking wet.”

I want his fingers beneath the silky white fabric, but he doesn’t go there at first. He toys with my folds over my panties, making the material slick with my wetness. He pulls up the skirt of my dress so it’s bunched up around my waist, exposing my shame to his gaze. My thin, soaked panties must be hiding nothing.

“Beautiful,” he says, pulling the wet fabric taut against my mound. “You’re just perfect.” He uses a finger to tease out my clit through the sodden material and moves his finger back and forth and in circles around it until I am begging him with meaningless words, as if I’ve forgotten all purposeful speech.

But he just smiles, his eyes twinkling, and bends to use the tip of his hot, wet tongue to tease that hard nub even more through my panties, then pulls the fabric aside, pausing to breathe in my scent.

He starts to lap at me with his tongue, long, slow strokes over the whole of my slit, my legs spreading out and my hips rise to offer myself to him, pushing myself up to his greedy mouth, needier than I have ever been in my life.

Just as I think I can’t take any more, he holds me down to still me and parts my lips with his tongue to take my hard, demanding clit in his hot mouth. He sucks and nudges the sensitive bud with his teeth, sending me tumbling out of control, my body trembling against his face as I call out his name and grab onto him as if he is my lifeline as I fall.

He kisses his way up my stomach, leaving a wet trail of my juices and holds me tight in his arms, stroking my hair, then I look up at him and he kisses me, a kiss full of passion and meaning and I taste myself on his mouth.

“Stay with me,” I demand.

“Yes, I’ll stay, but I won’t change my mind. I want you to be sure.”

*

I’m surprised to fall asleep in his arms, my red dress around me. I thought I might be awake all night with the sheer wonder of having him in my bed, of that orgasm.

But I sleep like a baby and in the morning, he is gone, leaving a note on the kitchen counter. “Early flight. I didn’t want to wake anyone. Back on Friday. I’ll call tonight.”

The kids and I have a good day at the park and when we get back home all sun-kissed and tired, the phone is ringing in the kitchen.

“Hi there,” he says. “Everything okay?”

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