But a spark had alighted in Evie’s eyes and she laughed throatily even as I pounded into her, legs spread, mouth slightly open, those luscious lips pink, soft, swollen already with my kisses. Because the brunette didn’t let up, teasing me more, trailing long nails down my back, scratching me a little as she drove me to new heights.
“Hannie,” she murmured this time, “Hannie Hannie Hannie,” she moaned before letting out a long squeal, her eyes snapping shut, face strained as she came. “Ohhhhh!”
Because I’d just done what I’d promised. We’d been playing for the last couple hours with a cucumber, mid-size, nothing too outrageous. Normally we go for big toys, my little girl is tight and small but she likes penetration, she likes harboring monsters in that pussy. But this cucumber was different because it was going up her ass.
And the slut deserved it. She knew I hated the name Hanson, that it was a lame family legacy, no one ever called me that, it was on my birth certificate but nothing more. I was Stone through and through, had been my whole life, but Evie knew exactly how to push my buttons … and drive me over the edge.
So she’d teased me, calling me Hanson as we fucked, the blood flowing to my dick, my fury rising with every gasp of that fucking nickname, every panted “Hannie!”
And I’d finally had enough. As my dick pounded into her, trashing that sweet snatch, I’d stealthily reached for the cucumber on the bedside table, already lubed with spit and pussy juice from an hour of foreplay. And with a vengeful thrust, I jammed it against her anus, that little hole popping open with the pressure, the head of the cucumber jolting in, skewering her behind on the slick green skin.
“Ohhhhh fuuuuuck!” Evie screamed, eyes flying open with surprise and shock as she was simultaneously pummeled by me and green monster. “Fuuuuuuck!”
And between forceful thrusts, I growled.
“Yeah, that’s right baby, that’s what you get for teasing me,” I hissed nastily against her mouth, my hips going like pistons, forcing her cunt to take me deep. “I can feel that fucking cucumber through your pussy wall, it’s stroking my dick as you squirm, you know that? Keep going, keep thrashing, it just makes it better for me.”
And the brunette squealed again, her plump body sweaty and soft, jerking and twisting as I fucked her two ways, my hips and my hand busy against her pussy and butt.
“Keep going,” I panted, devouring a nipple as I slammed my pole in again and again. “Keep going little butt slut.”
And with that, the little girl gave it up. With a deep, guttural moan that crescendoed into a full-fledged scream, the girl came like a tornado, her pussy and anus clamping around the poles within, milking my hot rod, squeezing me for all I was worth.
And with my own mighty roar, I unleashed as well. Ream after ream of virile semen shot into her, spraying her insides, forcing load after load of sperm up that hot cavern. It was so fucking good I almost stopped right there, reveling in the intense sensations of her pussy wrapped around my dick. But I wanted it both ways, and I wasn’t about to lose out to this fucking cucumber.
So I yanked the vegetable out and with one swift move, jerked my cock out and thrust into her asshole, pushing deep into that dry, musty space. Oh fuck, she was so tight back here, it hadn’t even mattered that the cucumber had stretched her out first. Both Evie’s holes were always so small, so dirty, squeezing me, rubbing up and down my dick, the friction delicious, the slide so good that I creamed more, my cock spurting like I hadn’t come just two seconds ago, man milk inching up that back hole, lubing up her ass with my sperm.
“Ahhhh!” the brunette screamed again, body almost exploding with pleasure. “Ohhhh Stone!”
“That’s more like it,” I growled through rough pumps. “Call me Stone … or Daddy.”
But the brunette was too far gone to hear, twisting and thrashing, my dick embedded in her ass, the cucumber discarded beside us as we heaved and jerked, our fluids mixing, the sperm and pussy nectar so copious, so abundant that the sheets were soaked through, we’d have another load of laundry again.
But that’s one of the good parts of being rich. There’s people to do the cleaning for you and I wanted Evie’s body every hour of every day, laundry be damned. So I went for it, and after it was over, I teased her, my fingers trailing down her cheek lightly with my dick still stuck up her ass.
“Baby, was it good for you?” I panted, smiling as my hand absentmindedly swept over her pussy.
Evie moaned and stretched languorously, the contact electric even after an hour of mind-blowing sex. Because of course it hadn’t been accidental. I never touch Evie’s pussy accidentally, it’s always purposeful, with a thought to what my best girl wants, what she craves.
“Stone,” she murmured throatily, looking up at me with a sweet smile. “You know it’s always amazing.”
And I growled low in my throat because that was the truth of it. It’s always good between us, my girl and I are connected physically and emotionally on a level I’d never experienced. After all, I’d swept into her life and changed it forever. Sure, I’d taken her virginity as a high school student but we were so much more now. Evie had moved in with me almost immediately, moved right into my bedroom in the big house.
She’d protested at first.
“I’m not sure,” the brunette had stammered, face coloring. “You just got back,” she added pointedly.
But I was having none of it and drew her close, my hands on her ass, those luscious curves bouncy and fleshy beneath my palms.
“Either you move in here or I move into your dorm room,” I growled, looking deep into her eyes.
And she’d giggled then, swatting at my arm lightly.
“Oh Stone, you know you can’t live in the dorms, my room is so small. Besides, I have a roommate,” she added meaningfully.
But I didn’t give a fuck.
“Who cares?” I tossed out, my eyes possessive, hands cupping those sweet ass cheeks. “Your roommate can watch us have sex, watch you come hard on my dick again and again, it’s fine by me.”
And Evie had given in then, giggling, moving her stuff into my bedroom that very weekend. Because I needed to be in her at least twice a day, if not three or four times, and fuck, if I needed to move back into the dorms to get it then so be it.
But first I needed to clarify something. Holding her shoulders, I stared deep into her eyes.
“We’re a couple now,” I said firmly. “You sleep in my bed, in my house, and there are no other men, ever,” I growled threateningly.
And not at all intimidated, Evie giggled.
“Why Mr. Phillips, I had no idea you were so possessive,” she cooed. “Can I bring a male friend around now and then, you know for a study session?”
And my face darkened, my brows lowering.
“Fuck!” I ground out, fists clenched at my sides. “You don’t have any male friends, you don’t have any male teachers or male anything,” I ground out roughly.
Now Evie was really amused.
“Not even my friend Chip?” she teased.
And I exploded at that stupid name.
“That Chip dipshit doesn’t get near you after this,” I raged. I was so angry thinking that another man had touched my beautiful brunette during our year apart that I could hardly swallow, my chest tight, my lungs barely inflating. And Evie still wanted to hang out with him? Even if it was platonic, I was devastated all the same.
But Evie took pity on me then, taking my hand in hers.
“Oh Stone,” she said, her voice gentle, reading my mind. “Chip never touched me, we weren’t dating, we’ve never dated. It was always you. It’s always only ever been you,” she clarified.
All the air whooshed out of my body, the world suddenly opening with possibilities.
“What are you saying?” I said, barely daring to breathe. Oh god, it shouldn’t have mattered, she had every right after all, but still, if it was true…
And Evie just nodded.
“Yes Stone,” she sm
iled at me. “No one’s ever touched me but you. Chip was just a distraction, a friend, a nobody really. It’s always been you Mr. Phillips.”
And I kissed her then, imbuing the contact with my adoration for the girl, how much I treasured her, how much it meant to me that I was the only man who’d ever touched her, felt that wetly creaming puss, savored her ass, her body pulsing and trembling only for me.
“I’ll make it worth it,” I whispered harshly into her ear, my voice choked up, throat tight. “Move in with me, now.”
And she nodded against me, her lips grazing my jaw.
“I’ll move in this weekend,” she promised sweetly, gazing at me, eyes limpid pools of need and desire. “I promise.”
And our living situation wasn’t the only change either.
“Stop working in the coffee shop,” I commanded a few weeks later as I watched Evie tie an apron on, the green wrap highlighting her tiny waist contrasted against her huge boobs and generous ass. “I have more than enough, you know that.”
But Evie had resisted on that one.
“Stone I can’t just take from you,” she said slowly, her eyes flickering to me even as she bit her lip. “I’m already living with you rent-free, eating your food, and you’ve given me a car …” she said her voice trailing off.
But I was adamant.
“Evie,” I growled again. “What do you make at the coffee shop? Ten bucks an hour? Trust me, I have millions, am making millions at Phillips, there’s no need to work in the salt mines.”
But my girl wasn’t having it.
“No Stone,” she said softly. “I still need something that’s mine, I can’t live off your hand-outs and besides, the coffee shop is hardly a dungeon.”
But I wasn’t having it.
“It’s not a hand-out,” I said tightly. “You’re my girl and I’m more than happy to support you, my money is your money, what’s mine is yours.”
And the brunette smiled again, taking my hand in her soft ones, bringing me close to cradle my face in her hands.
“I know big guy, I know you’re all about sharing,” she said, giving me a sweet kiss on the lips. “And I appreciate you paying my tuition,” she breathed, punctuating the words with another kiss. “But I still need a small bit of financial independence, so I’m working and that’s final,” she said determinedly before sashaying out with a wink, those hips swinging and oh so tantalizing.
And I accepted it. After all, I’m proud of my girl and that’s exactly what we’re working towards … independence mixed with dependence so that we’re in a balanced relationship. But at the same time, I want Evie to know just how serious I am about sharing, how serious I am about “our money,” “our things,” and “our life.” So I’ve decided to make it legal. I’m going to put everything on the line, my freedom be damned. I want to show the world that we belong together, that I belong to her and she belongs to me, and a wedding is exactly the answer.
So I’ve got a diamond in my pocket, a real stunner, a five carat beauty that will look amazing on her finger. And I’m looking forward to getting down on one knee, proposing, watching a sweet smile slip over my best girl’s face, her eyes lighting with joy. Because you know what? I started out as the teacher but Evie’s more than just a student, so much more … she’s my fiancée, my wife, my life, my everything, and always will be.
THE END
BONUS CHAPTER
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Continue on to read Delivering the Virgin: A Sexy Divorcee With Needs.
Delivering the Virgin
~A Sexy Divorcee With Needs~
(Erotic Romance)
© 2016
By Cassandra Dee
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ABOUT THE BOOK
Laurie's a recent divorcee with needs.
I’m embarrassed to admit but I’m a divorcee and a virgin. Yeah, my ex was that bad and we were married for about three seconds flat before calling it quits. But still, I have this problem. I stay up nights, burning, aching, twisting and turning in my sheets. And one day when a hot delivery guy shows up at my door, I went for it.
Except Tucker was so much more.
He was charismatic and charming …
Dominating and alpha …
With a HUGE package that made me gasp.
Note: This is a sexy, smutty romance that will make your cheeks burn and your panties melt! Guaranteed HEA.
DEDICATION
To all the raunchy ladies out there …
Here’s to big packages!
CHAPTER ONE
Laurie
I heaved the box down on the floor of my new apartment, exhausted. My back ached, my fingers were sore and I’d pulled a piece of skin off my knee when I tripped on the stairs coming up.
Because my new place was a fifth floor walk-up, a tiny nest on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, on the fringe of the city where the sidewalk was still filled with drug dealers and junkies at night.
But I shrugged, taking a deep breath and plopped on the couch. It was all I could afford right now and I was just happy to be out of the apartment I shared with my ex, Gary. Blech, even his name made me vomit. Gary. Sad to say, but we’d only been married two days before we separated. Can you believe it? When they say starter marriage, I don’t think they meant something that lasted a blink of an eye, over before it even began.
Because Gary had had a mistress the entire time we were dating, making my stomach churn once again. For the two years before we got married, two whole frickin’ years, Gary had been keeping a sweet blonde thing on the side, not a day over twenty-one with bolt-on boobs, a tiny waist and even tinier ass. Yeah, she was Barbie doll skinny whereas I was real girl, with a butt and hips that were wide and generous.
So I leaned back on the couch, a hand over my eyes. God, I was so goddamned tired and exhausted, the last couple months had been an emotional drain that rivaled only a nuclear disaster, my heart pulled apart, torn to shreds and then flushed down the toilet. But at least I was out now. I’d left our penthouse apartment on Fifth Avenue and was happy to have my own space now, humble as it might be.
Sighing, I looked around. Yeah, my new place wasn’t much bigger than a postage stamp, and that was including the bathroom. There was a combination living/dining space with a utility kitchen spread out against the wall, and then a narrow hall which led to a tiny bedroom in back. The whole place had been coated in a terrible pastel blue paint that was cracking and stale, but the broker had assured me it was lead-free at least.
I stepped into my tiny bathroom, trying not to cower as my eyes were seared by the overwhelming blueness of the place, the tiles, the tub, and the sink all the same aquamarine. The color was a throwback to the eighties when electric teal and hot pink had been popular, but now it just made my head hurt, my irises imprinted with the flashy shade.
But I was disgusting, sweaty, tired and dirty, and I could keep my eyes closed in the shower if it came to that. Sighing, I shook my head and began to strip. The baggy plaid shirt I wore fell to the floor, crumpled and used, and I popped the waistband of my jeans loose, stepping out of the hot denim with relief. Taking a deep breath for the first time in weeks, I stripped off my grimy bra and undies too, wearing nothing now but my birthday suit and some flirty pink toenail polish.
The spray spurted on with a hiss, the boiler coming to life with a groan but at least the water was blessedly hot. I stepped into the tiny stall, so small that I could touch both sides without stretching my arms and let the spray pound me, closing my eyes, steam filling the enclosure in a matter of seconds, turning it into a sauna.
But when my hand groped blindly at the ledge, my mistake became apparent. I’d forgotten to unpack my toiletries and there was no shampoo or soap in the stall. In fact, th
ere was nothing whatsoever, I’d forgotten to get a towel, a razor, a loofah, and I was stuck, soaking wet with nothing to get myself clean. I thought about going with it. I could rinse myself and call it a day, but my inner self was grossed out. I’d been moving for ten hours straight, heaving loads of junk, dirty, dusty and sweaty, and mere water wasn’t enough to do the trick. I needed soap and a good scrub.
So resignedly, I shut off the water and opened the stall door, stepping out while dripping, a big pool of water forming on the linoleum floor. Fuck, what a way to start my new life. Reaching down, I grabbed my plaid shirt and tried to use it as a towel, scrubbing the faded cotton up and down my curves, trying to soak up as much as possible. But the problem was my hair. I have curly brown locks and when they get wet, they retain a ton of water, making me into a human sponge. So even though I tried to squeeze out the curls, wring out as much excess as possible, it was useless, the plaid shirt was soaked in seconds.
Groaning, I turned to my jeans next. Gross, these things were so dirty, the light blue torn at the knee where I’d fallen, dirt streaks and random dust covering the denim. It was almost like I’d come from a construction site, they were so filthy. But I had no choice. So wrapping the material around me in a makeshift towel, I left the bathroom, my boobs and cunny each covered by a different pant leg, my tummy bare, my ass naked.
And my teeth chattered as I tiptoed into the living room. Eff me, it was cold and I cursed myself as I began rummaging through this box and that, frantically trying to locate my toiletries. Fuck! I scraped my hand on the cardboard edge of one container, a red welt rising on my palm even as I tried to tear open another box, futilely digging through piles and piles of random items, dishes, books, kitchen utensils mixed together haphazardly. Why oh why hadn’t I labeled my stuff instead of throwing it together in a jumble? But I knew why – I’d been in such a rush to leave Gary, get out of our joint home asap that I’d tossed everything together without any organization or planning.
The Billionaire's Kitten: A Fake Marriage Romance Page 39
