Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
I flushed with sheer need, and I freed my hands to try to push him away.
“Quit it,” he growled. “You brought this on yourself, son. If you tease Daddy, this is what you get.” He fucked me even harder, like he was trying to bottom me out, and it almost fucking felt that way too. “You’re gonna take Daddy’s cock until he’s filled your tight little ass with all the come he’s saved up.”
Fuuuuck!
Moments later, he pulled out once more and flipped me over, and he didn’t offer any recovery time. His cock found me fast, and then he was jackhammering himself into me over and over, his balls slapping against my ass.
The friction caused by his thrusts and my cock rubbing against the duvet sent a new rush of fire through me, and I was suddenly just a mess of horny sounds. Wailing moans, desperate pleas, breathless whimpers, and zero pretending I didn’t want this. I fucking couldn’t. Sex had never been this fucking good.
“Harder, Daddy,” I gasped.
He hauled me back and onto all fours again, and he fucked me brutally hard.
“There’s my boy,” he grunted. “Works better when you’re honest about how needy you are for Daddy to fuck you.”
“Daddy’s little cock-whore,” I moaned.
“Fuck.” He slammed in and groaned. “That right, baby? You wanna be my cock-hungry little whore?”
“Yes,” I cried out. “Always, always, always!”
He released a harsh breath, and I sensed a finality in his movements. He was chasing his orgasm now. He was done talking. Daddy needed to come inside his boy.
He told me to stroke myself, and I was almost afraid to go near my cock. I could go off any damn second. But I obeyed, and the onslaught of pleasure nearly melted me into the mattress. If he didn’t hold me up, I’d collapse. Composure, long gone. Now I was losing my voice too. My endless moans became hoarser—not to mention more high-pitched as my orgasm started taking over.
I couldn’t handle the sensations. They were too intense, sending me straight into the abyss.
In the distance, or so it sounded, Daddy was coming too. He was filling my bottom with his hot come and fucking his release deeper into me, and it prolonged my own climax.
Wyatt Abrams had turned me into a fucking screamer.
Oh my God, oh my God!
The last trickle of come coated my hand, and I didn’t have the willpower to stay upright. I collapsed in my wet spot, Daddy coming with me, though he managed to plant his hands on the mattress to prevent his entire body weight from falling on me. Which was kind of a pity, but then again, I had to breathe. Jesus H. Christmas, I had to breathe.
I panted.
My heart hammered furiously.
“Christ, baby…” Daddy blew out a heavy breath and kissed my neck. “How am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”
“Unghh.”
He chuckled, out of breath, and pulled out of me before he lay down beside me.
I winced and shuddered at the soreness in my butt.
“What if…” I had to catch my breath. “We called in sick?”
“Oh goodness, don’t fucking tempt me, boy.”
I mean…
I wriggled my butt, taking him deeper, and glanced at him over my shoulder.
I had a firm grasp on his firm, sexy thighs.
And he had a firm grasp on his sleepy smile. Then he brought a finger to his lips, and I nodded. I was gonna be quiet.
“Yes, at nine AM,” he confirmed into his phone. “No, just cancel it. I have a fever, so postponing it won’t help. Hopefully, I’ll be in tomorrow.”
I blew him a kiss.
He winked at me.
We were playing hooky today!
DECEMBER 10
“Yeah, I’m really not feeling well,” I croaked. I reached over to where Daddy was slicing up strawberries, and I stole a piece and popped it into my mouth. Delicious breakfast coming up! He was even making pancakes. And I was just sitting here on the counter, wearing his dress shirt, and enjoying the porn of watching Daddy cook in his boxer briefs.
“It’s interesting, though,” Mya said, drawing out every syllable. “Mr. Williams was complaining that Mr. Abrams called in sick too, for the second day in a row. Just like you did.”
“That is interesting,” I said. “Maybe he gave me the flu the other day. I should call and yell at him.”
Daddy narrowed his eyes at me and failed to hide his amusement.
I licked some strawberry juice off my thumb.
“Yeah, you do that,” Mya deadpanned. “Enjoy your fuckfest. I gotta go call the print place in Paris.”
I stifled a giggle. “Ask for Raphael—he speaks English. Have a great day! Bye.”
Soon as I’d ended the call, Daddy came over and stepped between my legs.
“So this fake flu is my fault, huh?” He snuck in and growl-kissed my neck.
I laughed. “Totally your fault.”
He shook his head, and we met in a kiss. He must miss his shirt, because he was often trying to get inside it. Or he just liked skin-on-skin!