“Oh God, oh God,” she breathes, nodding vigorously, her tits beginning to jiggle from the way I’m thrusting between her legs, my distended fly against her sexy mound. “I w-wore it short to m-make you mad. I like when Daddy’s mad.”
“That’s when I fuck the hardest, isn’t it?” Taking my right hand off the globe of her butt cheek, I reach down and unfasten my pants. “That’s when you get a secret punishment.”
Her thighs are already shaking.
As soon as I shove this dripping cock home, she’s going to orgasm.
It’s wild. It burns me alive, how easily she comes. How sensitive her pussy is after a little dirty talking. Our brand of dirty. Dirty we barely understand yet, but can’t stop venturing into, eager. Desperately. Hungry to learn and experience and roll around in every syllable. Every forbidden taunt. There’s a good chance I’m delivering the kind of affection lacking in her relationship with her father, weaving it together with our intense attraction. Maybe that’s messed up or something that needs to be addressed more closely. But all my body and mind and heart understands is giving Grace what she needs, whether it’s wrong or right. I’m her provider in all things. I’m where she comes to have her needs handled—and I’ll do my job well. I’ll do it no matter why or how her specific needs exist. I simply fulfill and reach my own heaven in the process. Our heaven.
Now, I watch her face closely, obsessively, as I tug her panties to one side and sink deep, deep into her little cunt, pumping once and feeling her warmth gush down all over me. She sobs and trembles and claws at my shoulders—and I just have to stand there, my jaw slack, balls harder than steel as she milks my shaft, her spasms going on and on and on.
“My precious girl,” I groan into her ear. “My tight little girl.”
Her cunt flexes and she whimpers, giving me more, more, her pleasure dripping off my balls now onto the concrete—and I can’t wait any longer to fuck. I cradle her ass with my right forearm and prop my left hand on the wall, pumping in the pace of a gallop. And this hot, horny, perfect girl knows exactly what I like, what I need, undoing the button of her white schoolgirl blouse so I can watch her yummy little tits bounce around inside her white bra while I get my nut.
“You wear that innocent white lace to make me fucking crazy, don’t you? God,” I growl, thrusting upupup harder, faster. “You don’t spread your legs like a virgin anymore, though, huh, Gracie? You open them wide for me. You want me to see that pretty clit so I’ll lick it wet and ride all over it.”
“I love when you do. I love it,” she hiccups, her pussy slapping up and down on my lap.
“After school. After school, I’m going to maul that sexy little thing. Going to send it back to Beacon Hill sore and satisfied and dripping North’s come. You’re going to walk right past your father with it all swollen and well fucked in your white schoolgirl panties. Same way you do every day, huh, baby?”
Her head pitches back on a sob. “Yes, Daddy.”
That pussy locks up around me again and I bust, slamming her ass up against the building and letting the climax rock me, so powerful because of who I’m with.
My life, my girl, my obsession. My world.
We cling to each other to keep from breaking into a thousand pieces, my lips on hers, swallowing her cries, driving my tongue into her mouth, anything to have more of her. More more more. I can’t get enough. I’ll never get enough.
“I love you,” I say brokenly into her neck when I’m coming down, replete, satisfied. Lost over this angel in my arms. How did I get this lucky? How is this real? “I love you, Grace. I love you. I’ll love you forever. Until they put me into the ground, baby.”
Her tear-filled eyes meet mine and I swear I can hear her heart pounding. “North, I—”
“Grace!”
One second her body is all warmth, the next it’s ice cold. She shakes her head rapidly, like she can’t believe what’s happening. “My father. Oh God. That’s m-my father.”
No.
No, this isn’t happening.
My cock is still locked up inside of her. I’m halfway to hard again.
The times I’ve pictured myself meeting Grace’s father, I’m shaking his hand and telling him, with confidence, that I can give his daughter a good life. I’m not there yet, though. I’m a week away. Longer. Because I won’t be satisfied with one payday. Not if I want to give her the world—and I do.
Already my chances of gaining the respect of Mr. Foster were slim. But if he walks around the corner and finds me fucking his daughter against a wall in her school uniform, there isn’t a chance in hell of gaining his admiration.
Grace wiggles frantically between me and the wall, planting her feet on the ground and fixing her panties and skirt, while I zip up as fast as possible, run agitated fingers through my hair. There is no way to make it less obvious what we were doing back here. Grace is flushed bright pink and I’m sweating. And that’s how Simmons Foster finds us when he strides around the corner, his face a mask of fury.
A few other people come into view behind him. In their school uniforms.
One of them is Collier.
He winks, holds up his phone. “Payback’s a bitch,” he mouths at me.
Nine
Grace
I can’t believe this is happening.
This boy that has become the center of my universe just told me he loves me.
I was on the verge of saying it back to him. Telling him I can barely breathe unless he’s standing right in front of me. Now, right in front of my eyes, I can see it all being ripped away. The fear of him being taken from me causes me to stumble, dizzy, but North catches me up against his side, his arms and presence and scent reassuring.
Even in the face of my father’s wrath.
And oh God, he’s so mad. I’ve never seen his face that deep shade of red, spittle escaping from the corners of his mouth. What is he going to do?
The best I can hope for is that he kicks me out.
Please kick me out.
Cut me off.
Just don’t take away North. Please, please, don’t take away North.
I’m sinking to the bottom of this obsession with him and I have no wish to kick for the surface. My body aches and suffers unless he’s touching it. I’m restless and sad and anxious without him. I’m not stupid. I know the depth of my devotion to him is more than a little crazy. We’re like two chemicals that aren’t supposed to mix, because once we do, there are explosions and changes to the atmosphere. But we did meet—and so be it. I need him and he needs me. There’s no way out of that or around it.
I look up into North’s face to try and communicate this to him, but he’s staring down Collier, a vein throbbing in his temple. That’s when I realize that my friends betrayed me. They’ve been aloof with me since last weekend, since I went home with North. And I knew, I’ve always known, that my circle rejects anything unfamiliar. I feared some kind of social punishment from them. But I’ve been so wrapped up in North that I missed the signs that they were planning to rat me out to Simmons. Imminently. Just waiting for the right moment.
Well if their plan was to wreck my chance at happiness, they couldn’t have picked a better moment. My father looks me over with pure disgust, obviously aware of what me and North were doing before he arrived. When he turns that sneer on North, I automatically step closer to my boyfriend, wanting to deflect the hatred from this perfect, wonderful boy who treats me like I’m crafted from gold. This boy who understands me and encourages me and gives me dark, indescribable pleasure beyond my wildest imagination.