Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
I can’t seem to speak. My throat is too tight. I shake my head, instead.
When she takes my hand and turns it palm-side up in her lap, a shudder goes straight through me. “I wasn’t touched hardly at all. Growing up.”
Why the hell did I say that out loud? It makes me sound pathetic.
“Don’t even think of feeling bad for me, Ayla,” I say through my teeth. “I’m fine.”
“I feel bad for the little boy.” She dabs some of the disinfectant onto my palms. It stings slightly, but I’ve experienced far worse pain. For instance, having her cross with me. So I don’t wince or make a sound. “As for the man, I wonder if you…well, I wonder if the reason you get so overcome when we touch is that…you’re starved for human contact.”
My brows snap together in confusion. “But I’m not starved for contact from anyone but you. For years.”
That simple statement of fact renders her momentarily speechless. “That does sort of shoot holes in my theory.” She starts to wrap my hand in a white strip of fabric and I listen carefully so I can hear her breathe and swallow. “But the fact that you weren’t touched at all growing up might still account for it affecting you more than most.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I close my eyes and examine the sharp, constant churning inside of me. The one that is always in effect when Ayla is close. Lay her down in the grass and get her pregnant. Get your fucking sperm inside of her. I shake my head to dislodge those urgent thoughts. They have no place here when this sweet girl is fixing my wounds. Try and be less of a bastard. “Maybe you’re right,” I choke out, truthfully. “When I touch you, I do feel like the void inside of me is being filled to overflowing.” I jerk my chin at the bandage she’s winding around my fist. “You patch me up in more ways than once.”
Her eyes are softer than I’ve ever seen them. “And yesterday…”
“Yesterday…” I swallow hard, shame closing in around me. “No one has even been permanent in my life. No one has ever been mine. Until you. You’re mine and I got…scared when I saw you speaking to someone who could…”
“Someone who could what?”
“Be normal for you. I’ll never be that.”
“Normal has never interested me that much.” She looks down at her lap for long moments, then shocks the hell out of me. Because when she lifts her gaze to mine again, she’s pure sex. There’s been a tear in her innocence and she’s giving me a peek to the other side. I absorb it like a greedy beggar, groaning and shifting on the steps to accommodate my swelling cock. “I don’t think I’m normal, either, anyway,” she whispers.
“Why?”
Somehow she manages to look shy in the middle of all that sultriness, leaning in to rub her lips against my ear. “Because…I liked it yesterday when you called yourself…”
I grab my dick in a vise grip to keep it from erupting. “Daddy?”
She hums in affirmation.
Holy fuck. I didn’t see this coming. Calling myself her Daddy was something I planned on apologizing for, once the bigger transgression was safely out of the way. But she liked it. Son of a bitch. It goes without saying that I loved it, that taking that role for her felt inevitable, but never in a million years did I expect her to want more of that talk. That…play.
Take her inside.
Hold her down.
Flood her fucking womb while she calls you Daddy.
My God, I can’t stand this temptation anymore. I’m drowning.
“What does it mean that I like you being called that?” She glances back toward the house, turning a little pink. “Is it because…do I have issues? Am I just a cliché?”
“As if you could ever be a cliché.”
A corner of her mouth lifts, eyes appreciative. “I call him father. We…we’re not close. He pretty much just tells me what to do. There’s no affection. Not like when my mom was around.”
“I’m sorry about your mother, Ayla. I’m not sure if I ever said it out loud.”
“Thanks,” she whispers, searching my face. “I should be saying sorry to you. I know what love feels like, because of her. I’m not sure…you ever did. They left you alone so young.”
Because they were unhappy with this life. The same life I want to inflict on Ayla.
But I can still save her, can’t I? Save her from me?
“You’re going to be late for school, baby,” I say on a shudder.
Her lips are so close to my ear. “Let’s ditch.” Need is written all over her features when she pulls back slightly and my body throbs, desperate to ease her. “Take me to the lake.” Ever so slightly, she touches the lobe of my ear with her tongue and my balls harden to stone. “No one else will be there this time of day.”