Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
"Nope." She twists the cap off, which involves a lot of wriggling around on my lap. I sink my hands into her hips to keep her still. Otherwise, I'll have her on her back before she gets a taste of the amber liquid. "I'm technically not old enough."
"Technically? You're either old enough or you're not," I say, amused. We both know damn well she's not old enough, technically or otherwise.
"I'll be twenty-one in six months. Seems close enough to me." She shrugs, sniffing the bottle. "It smells like wood smoke."
"Let me see it."
"Are you going to ruin my fun?"
"Never."
She reluctantly hands the bottle to me.
I bring it to my lips and tip it up, allowing the dark liquid to fill my mouth. The bold, smoky flavors mingle on my tongue. Bringing my other hand up, I wrap it around the back of her neck, pulling her toward me.
She leans in eagerly, her lips touching mine.
The alcohol dribbles from my lips to hers, droplets spilling down her chin. She moans, shivering in my arms as I give her the first taste. It's all she's getting. I want her sober for what I'm going to do to her tonight. I want her to remember every minute of it.
I swallow the rest of the alcohol, letting it burn its way down my throat. It's expensive whiskey, decent whiskey. Her taste outstrips it by a mile.
"It's not very good," she says, grimacing when she swallows the sip I gave her.
I take the cap from her hands and place it back on the little bottle before tossing it across the limo. "I agree," I murmur, licking the alcohol from her skin. "You taste far better."
She moans again, wriggling on my lap.
"Kiss me, Georgia," I croon, caught in her spell. Fuck, how many times have I thought about getting her alone like this? Too many to count, so I don't even try. This is better than every single fantasy combined. By miles.
Her tongue twines with mine, her kiss eager, exploratory, and hot enough to scorch the world. Jesus, I'm never going to get another fucking thing done now that I know what she tastes like, what she feels like. I was obsessed with her before. I've spiraled beyond that to whatever comes next.
"Blaze," she breathes, shifting around until she's straddling my lap, her legs splayed wide to accommodate my size.
The sight of her panties beneath that tiny skirt makes my head spin.
"I want to play a game."
"What game?"
"The one where I do what I want to you and you don't make a sound," I whisper, sliding my hand up her bare thigh. Her skin is soft as silk. She jumps on my lap, startling like a frightened little deer. "I'm going to make you come right here, baby girl. Can you be quiet for daddy?"
"No," she cries, quivering in anticipation. "Yes."
"Good girl."
I run my thumb along the seam of her little boy-short panties. They're soaked through, her arousal practically dripping from them. She moans my name, her hands locked on my shoulders. I can't wait to feel them in my bare skin, her nails digging into my flesh while she's riding me.
"Quiet, little one," I murmur, slipping my hand into her panties. "We don't want anyone to hear what I'm doing to you, do we?"
She bites her lip, fighting a sob of pleasure. A soft, keening whimper escapes.
I guess we'll be testing just how soundproof my office really is next time we're there. She's terrible at the quiet game. She tries anyway, whimpering and shaking on my lap, her nails embedded into the threads of my vest.
She's dripping, her cream coating my fingers as I play with her, exploring every fold. Her clit peeps from between her bare lips, begging for attention. I can't wait until she's spread out beneath me and I can see every inch of her, watch every tremble. I plan to know her body better than she does.
I press my fingers against her little hole, teasing her there too.
"Daddy," she moans, throwing her head back when I work two fingers inside. Even soaked, she's virgin tight. Her hat tumbles off, freeing her gorgeous curls. They're plastered to her head and mussed. She still looks like an angel.
I curl my fingers up, searching for her sweet spot.
"Oh, princess," I breathe when I find it, my gaze riveted to the play of emotion across her face. Shock, awe, ecstasy. One chases the other in an endless parade, each one more fascinating than the last. "Daddy's in so much trouble with you."
"M-me too," she sobs.
I stroke her g-spot and clit at the same time.
She nearly levitates off my lap, crying daddy so loud I know the driver hears her. Hell, the car beside us probably does too. Let them hear. Let them know. This little one is mine. I've been denying her for two months, caught up in my own mind. I'm not doing it anymore. She can scream daddy for the world to hear, and I won't miss a beat. I've been fighting against it, worried what people would say about her, what they would think.