Pretend I'm YoursA Single Dad Romance

by Vivian Wood

  I managed to reign myself in, filling her with short strokes, keeping things on the lighter side.

  Well, the lighter side for me, anyway.

  I could feel her nails raking my back; I feel the pressure building, pressure to just let go, let the beast out of its cage.

  No, not yet…

  I fuck her in measured increments, even as I realize that I won’t last that long like this. I need her to take some of the control, to take some of the burden, or I am going to fucking come everywhere. I’m not ready for that yet, and she doesn’t seem ready either.

  I slow, kissing her, then pull out. I flip us both, reversing our positions.

  “Your turn,” I tell her, breathless. “Show me what you got.”

  Cady gave me a slow grin, mounting me like a horse. Again, I felt that slippery-tight fit, like she was created for me. She is beautiful in this position, breasts jutting out, bouncing as she begins to move. I take full advantage, running my hands down her neck and cupping her breasts.

  It feels so good, in such a different way. Watching her move is truly something else.

  Her face when she starts to ride me… I can’t look anywhere else. It is transfixing, the way she wears her emotions on her sleeve like that. She lifts her face toward the sky as she gets closer; I could feel her tightening like a spring.

  “Are you close?” I whisper, already knowing the answer.

  I reach up and caress her breast, pinch her nipples.

  “Yes. More!” she says, holding my hand to her breast.

  Her hips moved fast, her eyes are closed tight. I love the way I can feel the tightening of her core around my cock. I can tell she wants it, but the part of my brain that longs for control just can’t let her have it.

  Not yet, not if I’m not giving it to her.

  When I lift her up, she protests, her eyes snapping open. “Hey!”

  “On your knees,” I say, roughly putting her in the right position. “Let me see you touch yourself.”

  She reaches a trembling hand down to do as I say. I watch for a moment as she touches herself, softly gasping as she works over her clit. It’s hotter than anything I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot.

  I grasp my cock, fit it against her pussy, and plunge in. We both cry out as I slide home, filling her to the hilt.

  “Your pussy feels so good,” he whispers. “So wet, so tight. God, you’re fucking perfect.”

  Now the beast can come out of its cage, I decide. I unleash it upon both of us. I hammer her from behind, gritting my teeth.

  I can feel her tightening again, ready to orgasm. I set a grueling pace, my mind narrowly focused on one thing: the orgasm barreling down on me.

  I feel her beginning to come underneath me with a scream. I completely let myself go. My movements are brutal, unforgiving.

  I come with a shout, pumping long jets of my semen into her willing body. We both slump forward, and I manage to move a little so that she’s not completely underneath my body. I can’t talk or even breathe for a minute afterward.

  I run two fingertips down her sweat-dampened spine, just to see her shiver. I like how responsive her whole body is, how easy it is to make her do or feel however I want. Our legs are still tangled together, and I trail my hand down to caress her hip, her thigh.

  I’m still turned on, apparently, because my cock stirs against her skin. She looks at me, halfway between impressed and about to roll her eyes.

  “Really?” she says.

  “Hey, it’s not my body’s fault that your body looks like this,” I shrug. I knead her ass cheek a little, playful.

  She shifts and I move, letting her roll over. I smile at the sheer disarray that is happening to her hair; I get a little kick that I made it a fucking mess. I reach out to tuck a tendril behind her ear, then lighten things up by cupping the fullness of one of her bare breasts.

  “Do you maybe want to get dinner tomorrow?” I ask. The words are out of my mouth before I’ve even thought about them.

  Immediately, I can see that she’s skeptical. She thinks it’s a terrible idea.

  “Dinner?” she asks, scrunching her face. “Umm… doesn’t that seem kind of… against the grain, for us? I mean, I wouldn’t want any wires getting crossed or lines blurred, you know?”

  “Right,” I say, shaking my head. I feel the beginning of a little color in my cheeks. “I meant as friends. You know, just… to get to know each other more. The more that we trust each other…”

  I trail off, but she doesn’t pick up my hint. Instead, she grows teasing. “The more we can… what? Braid each others’ hair?”

  “I meant that the more we get to know each other, the kinkier we can get,” I say. I sit up, looking around for my underwear. I swear, this is becoming too familiar a pattern.

  “Oh,” Cady says, thoughtful. “I hadn’t really considered that.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say, keeping my tone neutral. I find my shirt and my jeans, pulling them on. “I should go. I have a big day tomorrow, and I want to hit the gym before work.”

  “Umm, alright,” she says. “You know how to reach me.”

  I grab my boots and give her a half wave as I leave. I almost kiss her goodbye, then decide against it.

  You’re just a piece of ass, I think. You know how this goes.

  Still doesn’t keep me from being in a terrible mood as I leave her apartment, though.

  Chapter Ten

  Cady

  I’m coming over now.

  That is all the warning I received, about five minutes before Jett showed up at my doorstep. I put down the pen I was using to correct a brief, a tiny bit surprised. After he left last time, after I shot down his idea of going out, I was worried that he would take it wrong.

  It just seemed to me that getting involved as more than fuck buddies is… well, problematic. Because I can’t look at him and not go all googly-eyed inside, not when he gives me that lopsided smile of his.

  And as I have previously reminded myself, he is not boyfriend material. Besides, I don’t even want a man.

  …right?

  No, I don’t, I tell myself.

  He startles me from my thoughts by buzzing the door downstairs. Shit!

  I rush to the door, casting a disapproving eye at my clothes; he didn’t even give me time to change out of my yoga pants and t-shirt.

  I open the door and eye him, looking good as ever in a blue plaid button up and blue jeans. I swear, that blue plaid is just the color of his eyes.

  I blush when I realize that I’m already getting wet.

  He does this to me.

  “Like what you see, princess?” he growls.

  He steps in, closing the door and sweeping me off my feet. He carries me to the bedroom, taking my hair down for me.

  “I like it down,” he says, twining a length around his finger. “I like to feel it around me, to see it grow as wild as you do.”

  Jett reaches a hand down to my face, brushing my hair from my eyes. He tucks it gently behind my ear, fixating me with his piercingly blue eyes.

  “It’s okay. I like you looking at me. I like seeing you looking at me more.”

  “Even then, it’s rude to stare.” I avert my gaze and focus on my knee instead.

  “Princess, you can stare at me all you want. As long as it’s me you’re staring at like that, I’m happy. Fucking ecstatic, actually.” He cups my chin so that our eyes meet. He holds my gaze, still not moving to hide any part of himself.

  I start tracing the lines of the tattoos on his chest, then the ones on his arm, all the way to his hand. Next, I trace the muscular lines of his stomach down to his hips.

  His breath hitches, and his cock twitches. I bit my lip, and he lets out a low moan.

  “I’m really trying to let you do your thing here, princess. But you’re really fucking killing me.”

  I grin at his words. A shiver of excitement runs up my spine and I can feel myself growing wet already.

  “Fuck,” he
breathes as I run my hands over the outline of his hard cock over his briefs. “I can’t fucking wait to get inside of you.”

  He flips me onto my back and presses his body to mine, kissing me deeply. He traces the neckline of my tank top as he ran his other hand up and down my thigh.

  I moan as he reaches for the hem of my shirt, but I am surprised; instead of my shirt, he starts pulling off my yoga pants. I help him, and the second he has got them off, he’s like a kid in a candy store.

  He runs his hands up and down my smooth legs, looking at them like they are something delicious to be eaten. The look makes the fine hair on my neck rise. I’m glad that I know, because if a stranger looked at me with that kind of naked lust in his eyes, I would be afraid.

  With Jett, though, fear is impossible. Not when he looks at me, or when he kisses me. I close my eyes for a second, nearly overcome.

  “Cady,” he says softly. “Look into my eyes for a second.” I open my eyes and he drinks me in. He spends a minute running one hand up and down my side, leaving goosebumps in his trail. He teases my nipples through my shirt, planting soft kisses on the exposed skin on my stomach.

  I barely manage a nod. My skin is on fire everywhere he touches me, aching for more. Each stroke on my nipples causes my pussy to clench.

  I am pretty sure that by now, my panties are drenched. I would be embarrassed, if I could bring myself to think that far. But all my thoughts are completely focused on what he is making me feel.

  His hands slide my panties down, and my tank top disappears over my head. If this were anyone else, I would be trying to cover up, but I force myself not to. The way he was looking at my body, his eyes dark with lust, make me feel hot and naughty.

  He does this to me.

  He drinks me in with his eyes, growling softly as his fingers stroke my dripping slit.

  “God, Cady. You’re so fucking wet.”

  He brings his glistening fingers to his lips, licking my juices off the tips of his fingers. He closes his eyes and lets out a low moan as he tastes me on his hands. “Fucking delicious, princess. So sweet. I can’t fucking wait to taste more.”

  I focused on his fingers, that are once more playing with my clit, teasing the seam of my pussy.

  He kisses me deeply, hungrily. I could feel his rock hard cock digging into my soft belly. I moan loudly, still unable to form any words.

  “Fuck, Cady. I’ve never cum from just sounds before, but if you keep that up, that might change.” His voice was husky, low.

  “Yes, please Jett! Please!” I beg.

  I barely register that I haven’t showered yet, before his mouth is licking slowly but hungrily along my seam. Up and down, sucking in my lips, darting his tongue into me before starting all over again. He lets out a low moan again.

  “So fucking sweet, Cady.” He moans before taking my sensitive clit in his mouth, sucking lightly, his tongue flicking against my bud.

  It’s a little like being struck by lightning, that first touch of his tongue to my clit. His tongue is turning me into a shivering, moaning maniac.

  I try to buck my hips against him, unable to contain myself any longer, but his strong hands on my hips kept me in place. He licks and sucks until I see nothing but stars and fireworks, feeling like I am about to fly away if it wasn't for him anchoring me.

  Far too soon, the pressure that had been building up inside me releases into a ball of light. My mind shatters in every different direction possible as I scream his name, digging my fingers into his shoulders and tugging at his hair.

  He keeps licking, although he is very gentle now, aware of how sensitive I must be. I have to pull him away, and he comes up looking immensely self-impressed.

  “Not bad, huh?” he says, licking at his mouth.

  “Not bad indeed.” I tug him close for a kiss and taste my own juices, sharp and sweet.

  He pushes his boxer briefs off and moves to lay between my legs. I can feel the blunt tip of his cock against my entrance, positioned perfectly to slide into my pussy. He doesn’t though.

  He just kisses me hard. I can still taste myself on his lips. Somehow, it just arouses me even more. I moan into his mouth, and hear a low sound at the back of his throat.

  “You want it?” he says, so low it’s almost a whisper.

  “You fucking know I do.”

  He moves a little, shifts very slightly, and I can feel the promise of his weight, his body heat. I shiver.

  “Are you sure?” he asks, teasing now.

  “I want you inside of me. Now! Please, Jett.”

  He lets out a low growl, but doesn’t say any more. I can feel his hard cock gently pushing harder at my entrance. He slides in slowly, watching my every facial expression, seemingly gauging my every move.

  “Fuck, so tight,” he breathes as he stretches me inch by inch.

  Pleasure fills my body, taking over every inch of me. The entire world disappears. All that exists is the feeling of his cock in me, his body on mine, breathing deeply and softly growling and moaning into my ears. He kisses me and whispers to me.

  “Fuck, you’re so good, Cady.”

  He rocks into me with perfect rhythm, with just the right amount of pressure. I can feel my body begin to tighten, to draw taut like a bowstring.

  It is so good, yet almost painful at this point. I feel so delightfully used, feel stretched out by his massive cock. I know he isn’t going to stop, but that doesn’t keep me from encouraging him.

  “Don’t stop, Jett. I’m so close,” I urge. “I’m right there. Make me come.”

  I know he can. I will him to release the tension building in my breasts, in my core. His breathing is ragged now. I can feel his muscles starting to shake as he thrust into me more forcefully, but he was still taking care not to hurt me. He was nearly there, and I am right there with him.

  A final thrust and my world shatters into a million pieces again. The knot that had been building inside me releases.

  He nips at my bottom lip, then his eyes roll back, his muscular shoulders flexing, his thighs shaking as he fills me to the brim. I feel his orgasm pour into my core, his cock twitching deep inside of me.

  And it is the most exquisite thing.

  As we’re lying there, breathing hard, Jett surprises me. He rolls over, self-assured as ever, and starts talking.

  “I was thinking about that first night. You know, when we were supposed to bang, but I wouldn’t have sex with you?” he asked, drawing a figure eight on the bedspread. “I judged you for drinking, but I shouldn’t have. I don’t expect you to sit around, waiting for me and my magic dick.”

  I raise my eyebrows, surprised. “Thanks, but you don’t have to apologize. You ate my pussy like it was your job. I’m not mad about it.”

  I don’t know how much I like knowing that I was judged for it and found wanting… but there is something very honest and refreshing about his admission.

  He is quiet for a few seconds, his eyes cast downward as he studies whatever invisible design he’s drawing on my bed. I give him time to think, busying myself with inspecting his tattoos. His tattoos seem to start in the center of his muscular chest, where a family crest takes up a good bit of space, lions and swords in bold yellow and blue ink.

  Around that, there is a border of roses… and then from there his tattoos are more erratic. I spy a tiger on his shoulder, a flaming heart on his bicep, and a satanic-looking cherub at the top of his ribs.

  I catch his hand, reading the words tattooed on his knuckles. “Hold… let me see your other hand? Ahhh, hold fast.”

  “Mhmm,” he says. “I always felt like I needed something to hold onto when I was a kid. My uh… my dad drank a lot, and it kind of made our house… chaotic.”

  I look up at him, taken aback for the second time in a handful of minutes. “Is that why you didn’t want me to be drunk?”

  Jett lifts a shoulder, shrugging. He doesn’t say anything for a second. When he does, it’s not at all what I expect.

  “Do
n’t worry about alcoholism being passed down through my genes,” he says, his dark blue eyes pinning me. “When I grew up, I figured out that he’s not my biological dad.”

  Whoa. This is pretty heavy stuff for pillow talk.

  I open my mouth to say something, but he waves it away.

  “That’s a little personal for the moment. Forget I said anything,” he says. He sits up and looks around for his boxer briefs.

  “It’s fine. I was going to ask—”

  He cuts me off. “If I know who my biological father is, so you can ask me questions about his health?”

  I make a face. He doesn’t know me that well. I need to put him in his place.

  “Uh, no. I was going to ask if you want me to order a pizza. I’m starving. Oooh or something with chocolate. I love chocolate.”

  Jett shakes his head. “Nah, I should get going. Thanks, though.”

  I roll onto my side and watch him as he gets dressed. I admire his body as he bends and flexes. He is so confident and self-assured; I’m definitely jealous of that.

  “You sure about the pizza?” I ask.

  Jett looks at me out of the corner of his eye, and then shakes his head.

  “Do I want to do something that involves hiding out here some more? Not really.”

  Just what is that supposed to mean? I make a curious face, but he doesn’t bite.

  “I’ll see you later, okay?” he says. He’s already halfway out the door, so I don’t bother to answer.

  I do wonder what is going on in his mind, though. I think about what he said, about hiding out here some more. Does that mean if I had asked if he wanted to go grab something to eat outside the house, that would’ve been fine?

  That’s crazy, though. He’s not the one I’m worried about. I’m setting the boundaries up like they are so that I don’t fall for him. I make an aggravated grrrr sound, because men are forever trampling all over the boundaries we women set for them.

  I settle back for a minute, then grab my phone and call Olive.

  “Pizza?” I ask in lieu of a greeting.

  “That’s all you had to say! I’ll be over soon,” she says, hanging up.