by Jeri K Raine
“She stays outside.”
Chapter 9
Greta
Logan looks hard into the big man’s eye. Tells him, “She stays with me.” The power in his voice makes me squirm, hot.
The guard’s lips press together. He’s about to speak when Logan tells him, “Check with Mikey if you want.” Then he lowers his voice to a growl. “If you make a mistake, it will be a big one.”
The guard blinks. After he thinks about it for a moment, he nods at the other guard. The door opens and we step into a large room that is mostly in darkness.
The two guards follow us in and shut the door. They stand with a line of guards at the back of the room. At the far end is a light from an overhead lamp. In the light, Mikey sits behind a wide desk in a huge leather armchair. In a black suit, with an immaculate white shirt, with jeweled cufflinks I can see the from the far end of the massive dark space.
It’s a long walk from the door to the desk. Logan holds my hand. Mikey
“Well, well,” Mikey calls out. He steeples his fingers in front of his face.
“Logan, as I live and breathe.” Then reaches for a big cigar. “Okay, there are a couple of reasons I need to see you. The skinhead, Logan. He wasn’t supposed to survive that encounter. You know what I mean?”
Logan says nothing.
Mikey shakes his head before he goes on. “I hand-picked you for this detail.”
“So I heard. I guess you thought I would go berserker on him.”
We’re in front of his big desk now. There are a couple of chairs. He invites us to sit. Logan stays on his feet, so I do the same. Mikey shrugs.
“Based on what I saw in Afghanistan, yeah.”
“You know I collected a chestful of medals for saving your asses out there.”
“Sure. But I thought that was the Corps, covering up its own mistake.”
“It was. But not the way you thought.” Logan leaned on the desk.
A big man from the back of the room moves, but Mikey holds up a hand to stop him. “Tell me.”
“That nest of hostiles? The ones I took out with a rocket launcher? They would have lit up your convoy and blown up everyone in it.”
“You took a chance, firing rockets at them. They were awful close to my truck.”
“The bigger chance would have been if I hadn’t.”
Mikey leans back, studying Logan carefully. “You could have rushed them.”
“I was dragged out of R&R, less than an hour back from a ninety-six-hour firefight. I couldn’t have rushed a sleeping rock. I could hardly fucking stand. My choice was between pouring rockets into the Taliban or watching them cut your platoon into hamburger meat.”
Mikey’s cheeks drain pale.
“The Corps’ mistake was sending me out on foot, alone in the dark with some little white pills, into the badlands of Helmand Province to give a back-marker to four vehicles and twenty-two men.”
Mikey listens in silence.
Logan says, “Fast forward to your patrol in the twilight and the scrub. Rockets and tracer fire going off everywhere, I was crouched in the rear door of a busted farmhouse, facing backwards. Then I saw a bunch of men and a lot of grenades. I just made the bad guys lie down. I didn’t trust myself to deploy subtlety.”
Under his breath, Mikey said, “Damn.”
“Bottom line, Mikey, just getting the job done. The Corps would have preferred an easier way out. Truth be told, so would I. It is what it is.”
Mike took a long breath through his nose. His cigar ash was long, and it drooped.
Logan leaned on his knuckles. “I did my job, Mikey. Best way I could.”
“I can’t fault you for that, Logan. That’s what you did.”
Mikey flicks the ash and takes a long draw on the cigar. Looks at Logan, tilting his chair back. Says, “I guess I missed something when I was figuring.”
His head shakes slowly. “Okay,” Mikey says, “I guess I have to let the thing with the skinhead ride. I’ll take the bumpy landing on that one. You did the right thing.”
Logan says, “The skinhead is going to tell the cops some things you don’t want them to hear? Something about you or something about the candidate, I’m guessing.”
Mikey shrugs. “Like you say, it is what it is.”
Then Mikey says, “Okay, Logan, I’m going to need to look at this all a different way. My team here, it needs way better leadership.”
Mikey raises the cigar. “Time for a management shakeup,” he says, “Logan, you’re going to be my captain. You’re going to run the team.” He lets thick curls of smoke drift up in front of his face. “The money will be great. I have big plans. I need my team running like a machine. You are the man to lick them into shape.”
Logan says, “I’ve got a different plan, Mikey.” A hush drops on the room. “I’ll train your team. I’ll get them to combat readiness, teach them leadership skills. I’ll teach them to think strategically, and then show them the need for discipline. What we learned in the Corps, Mikey.”
Mikey’s head shaking, “No, Logan, no.” He moves forward in the chair. “The parts where you teach my team how to function as a responsive fighting machine,” he takes another cigar. “I like those parts. But I like better the part where you stay and run the show.”
“You wouldn’t like that, Mikey.” Logan is keeping his voice low and level. Even. “You’d like how I do a lot of things, but you wouldn’t like the way I always do the right thing. Your methods and mine, they’re not a good fit. The thing with the skinhead? The way that you want to see that going down, Mike, that’s not me. These guys,” He waved to indicate the men shifting their weight and fidgeting at the back of the room, “These are your guys. They are in step with you. I’ll give you a perfect team. Me? I’m my own man. You don’t want that.” Logan straightens up.
Mikey thinks it over. Rolls the cigar around. Looks at Logan. Shakes his head. Looks at the men at the far end of the room. Then back up to Logan. “Okay, Logan. You know your business..”
He holds out a hand.
Logan says, “There’s more.”
Mikey glowers. “Don’t push it, Logan.”
“The marker you hold on Greta’s father. This is the deal breaker, Mikey. Non-negotiable.”
Chapter 10
Logan
I cannot not wait any longer to take my Greta and make her mine forever.
Only the best hotel will do. The three receptionists watch us cross the tiled lobby. I remember the wrecked hotel where we came so close to being together. It was luxurious, too, before whatever caused its collapse.
I feel dirty, worn out, and rough on every edge. I guess I look it, too.
The receptionist looks up with a professional smile. I tell her I want the bridal suite. Her eyes widen. She starts to tell me about the price but I just hand her my card. “It doesn’t matter. Book us for a week but let me know before you rent it for any day next week.”
Mikey transferred my advance payment before we left. I have easily enough to cover the cost of a presidential suite, probably for several months. I’d have even more if I could cash the marker on Greta’s father. It will be worth more to me than any amount of money, though.
The receptionist hands me two keycards. I tell her we urgently need champagne on ice, club sandwiches and fries, and a chocolate cake.
On the top floor, in the powder blue and cream suite, Greta dances on the thick carpet and in front of the plush, draped curtains, in the main room and the lounge. She bounces on the thick bed covers. The light in her smile warms and arouses me.
Her voice shakes with a buzz like a live electric charge, “Daddy, it’s wonderful!”
I stand in the center of the room, feeling like a muddy armadillo on a birthday cake. “I love you so much, baby doll.”
She runs to me. I hold her face. “Greta,” Her body leans and presses into mine. Her eyes open wide at the speed and force of the reaction in my pants.
She sighs a long, trembling bre
ath in and her teeth chew into the side of her lower lip.
The heat of her soft, swollen muffin shoves and rocks against the knotting muscle of my thigh. Her little hands scamper all over me, but when they reach the front of my pants, she sighs.
“Daddy, it’s so big!” she gasps, “You can’t fit all of that inside me. Can you?”
Hearing her say that only makes it grow thicker. Her eyes stretch wide as she feels it swell. I reach between her thighs, sweep underneath all the way to her ass. Her cheeks clench and tense in my grip.
“Oh, you make me feel so tiny, Daddy.”
Her pussy has drenched her panties.
"Daddy, are you going to make me yours, now?" Her eyes sparkle up into mine. The patter of her heart beating against my chest makes my whole body swell. I stroke her cheek, her neck.
I stroke her face, brushing her cheek with my thumb. Her head leans into my palm and she nuzzles. A tense little line at the corner of her eye tells me how nervous she is.
Who wouldn't be? I don't even know if she's seen or handled an erect cock, before. Most likely not, I’m guessing. She is so perfectly inexperienced.
Everything about her makes me adore her more. Makes me harder. Makes me need her.
"Greta, I'm going to make you mine, forever. It's going to be wonderful. I'm going to fill you, stretch you wide, enter you in ways you never imagined." As I tell her, as I pull her by her waist, breathing nearer to me, eyes sparkle and her lower lip trembles.
"It is going to hurt, though, isn't it, Daddy?"
I wouldn't lie to her, not for anything. I kiss her. Deep. Full and long. My tongue and hers teasing in a dance, our breaths join together, making us into one. Her mouth opens, soft and wide, stretching, inviting me deeper. As we kiss, her body takes on a new life. Reacting. Moving in my hands, twisting, like a dance, like a melody. Like a natural force.
I'm filled with love, but the need is killing me. My balls are swollen and clenched tight. A rod of pain and swelling pulses into my cock.
All of my muscles clench and buzz. The press of her soft breasts against my hard stomach, the rub of her hot, demanding pussy on my leg, up against my hip, is too hard to resist. I hold her by her throat. Brush her hair back. When we pull away from the kiss, we both gasp. Surprised. A little bit out of breath.
“It will hurt,” I say. I want to tell her, ‘Not for long, and not very much,’ but I can’t. I don't know if it's true.
As though she's reading my mind, her hands slide over the phone with my pants. More confident. “Your cock is awfully huge,” she makes a little frown as her tongue flicks over her lip and her breath shakes. Her voice cracks. “I don't know how that can fit.… inside me. I’m tiny… down there…”
I bend down to kiss her again slide my arm around her back. I pull her up to me by her ass. With her in my hands, I feel like I’m in heaven.
Through the kiss, she tells me, "my huge ass, feel so small in your big strong hands, Daddy."
When she calls me that again, I carry her to the bed. Drop her down, onto her back.
I don't know if I can stand to wait anymore. But I want it to be perfect for her.
She knows. She knows so little, and yet so much.
“I'm afraid, Daddy. But only because I haven’t felt it before. I know that when I feel it, I’ll want it again. Again and again.” Her eyes search my face. “Don't wait, Daddy. Please, don't make me wait."
I rip off her panties. Her plump, round, soft pussy is so swollen, so wet. I want to fuck her right away. Take her. Break her. Make her mine. Completely.
I have to taste her first.
I kiss her, up the insides of both of her thighs. She shakes, and jerks. Her hips bounce and rock. I finally seal my mouth on the dark honey tang of her pussy, when I finally slip my tongue over her hot, zinging clit pussy, when I finally suck underneath her hood, and slide my tongue inside her, she grabs my head, claws her fingers into my hair.
She shakes and twists.
"Daddy! Daddy, Oh, oh, what are you doing to me?"
Her soft, milky white thighs clasp around my head. She shudders and groans. I tease her with my tongue and suck, probing to find her rhythm.
She is so ignited and excited, her rhythm changes so fast, it’s hard to follow. She rolls and turns, twisting, gasping and grasping.
I pull on the tops of her thighs so I can press her pussy tight against my mouth. Her legs shake as I lick deeper. She shouts and her juices burst out onto my tongue.
The taste of her is driving me insane. I want to bury my face in her juicy pussy and at the same time, my cock is stretching so hard to get wet inside her, it feels like I’m going to literally burst.
Rising up, at the edge of the bed, I hook her legs over my bent arms. Her eyebrow trembles and her lips part. She’s pulled her shirt undone. And the bra.
Squeezing and kissing her breasts, I circle her pussy with my fingers. I feel her getting ever wetter as she gasps, “Daddy! Daddy, please. Take me. I need you, Daddy.”
As she’s wriggling out of the shirt and pulling the bra down her arms, I lean down. I opened my pants and finally free my straining rod.
“Daddy,” she pleads, “May I… Can I hold it? Please?”
I stroke her forehead and kiss her, tenderly.
“Of course, baby doll.”
She reaches down and nervously takes a hold of my pulsing cock. When she touches it, she gasps like she’s been burned. “It’s… Oh, Daddy. It’s really massive. Daddy, I can’t…” I hold her face in my plant another kiss on the sweetness of her lips. Our mouths open and I feel the tension as her breath flutters.
“Don’t be afraid, baby doll.”
She bites her lip as she shakes her head. Still holding onto my cock, she tells me, “I won’t, Daddy. I promise.”
I lower my body down, onto her, between the heat of her soft thighs. The underside of my cock slides along the wet swollen lips of her eager, hot muffin. She rocks her pelvis against me, squirming hard. Her eyes roll and she whispers, “Daddy. Daddy, I need you.”
The little bud of her clit scrapes down from the top of my cock, just under the head. Her drenched lips hold me, folding, molding around me as I slide up and down against her. Her hands grip my sides. She looks up into my eyes. The mixture of need, hunger, and fear in her face is about to break my heart. I make one long rock downward, then stop when the head of my cock is right on her entrance.
I wait a moment what church you her lip. Feel her hands gripped my ribs. Grasping, tight. Her hips rolled down against my cock. It feels for a moment like she’s going to press through. Like she’ll burst the barrier herself. But it would be too tough.
I must do it for her. I kiss her, look in her eyes. “Ready?”
Her eyelids flutter as she shakes her head. I grin. She grins back. I press in. Hard. She shouts.
Her legs spring round my waist and her ankles lock behind my back. Her head presses back into the soft covers of the bed. The neck and shoulders I read.
“Daddy! Daddy! Oh, fuck, Daddy!” Her voice rises to a squeak.
I slide slowly back out and feel her walls grip me, soft and wet. Needy and hungry around my shaft. Then I drive back in. Deeper this time. She lets out a long, rasping shout. Her arms fly around my neck. Her fingers grasp at my shoulders and scrape my back. Clawing. Her ass and her thighs clench and tighten. Her pussy tugs and sucks on me.
She moans as I slide out, then yells as I slam all the way back in.
Pulling herself up with her arms around my neck, she presses her body against mine.
Her hot, golden skin, glistening with sweat, most of it mine, presses against me and our heat joins.
Now pushing, almost all the way in. My balls bounce against the cheeks of her ass. I stand. Her arms and legs grip around me so tight, I know she’s going to stay attached. Wrapped on me. Nothing would pull her off now.
“Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me, please.” I hold her ass as her beautiful pussy takes all of me and she rocks along my ra
il, almost as hard as I pummel into her pussy’s delicious wings.
Chapter 11
Greta
The stretch of my little flower around his huge cock is a sore ache, deep and hard. But so very fucking good.
I slide my hips to push my cunt along his cock as far as hard as I can. It hurts, but it’s a pain that I can’t get enough of. And I know that I will never get enough of it. Not when it’s him.
Now I know what it means to be his.
I knew before the snap. Before he speared his way in. Deep side me. When I first felt the naked heat of his raw cock. When I felt him parting my lips, I knew it then. I knew it and I knew that I needed it.
Hanging onto him, my hands on his head, my mouth on his. My legs round his body. His cock filling me. Pumping life into me. We are one.
I feel like I’m the part that he’s been missing. And he’s power I need.
He holds my breasts, squeezes, makes my hard buds sting, I wonder, how many times it will take. Not that it matters. I want to do this, now, forever.
He tips his hips as he spreads his thighs farther apart. His angle has changed. Raised. He pierces me like a huge spike. My cunt hugs him, squeezes him, sucks him. I try so hard, my poor little pussy flutters. Still he stretches me, like he is going to split me in two.
I angle my hips so he scrapes me harder. At the front, it’s like the biggest, most impossible itch.
Another rumble of boiling sensation, rolls inside me. Growing like a snowball. Till the snowball is going to become an avalanche. Until it’s a sliding glacier, and landslip, bursting, slipping, crashing, plunging explosion. An implosion of an earthquake. A tsunami. The insides of my legs zing and buzz. My ass clenches. I realize I’m scraping my nails down his back, over his sides. Down his hard stomach muscles. He holds me by my hips and beats his cock into me.
I shake and I howl, gushing like a waterfall. My dam ready to burst again.
He grips my hair and pulls it.
