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MEG
My senses buzzed and sang with desire. In all my life, I’d never felt so alive. My body pulsed with the need to feel Darrel—Daddy—pounding me between my legs. Claiming me. Rutting me like an untamed beast.
As he kissed me, masterfully so, he walked me backward until my legs hit a sofa. I sank down on the cushions as he settled his hefty form atop me, though he managed to keep his substantial weight from crushing me.
Sunshine spilled through the open windows, bathing us in pleasant warmth. As fresh and clean as everything smelled here—the sexy man included—I could almost pretend the apocalypse had never happened and I’d grown up like normal and this handsome hunk was my first boyfriend. The fantasy blossomed in my mind as he deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue against mine as he released an animalistic growl that vibrated through me.
There was no mistaking the hardness in his jeans. The thick rigid member that pressed against my thigh. Until now, all my previous sexual experiences had been business transactions, but this was so real I wanted to jump for joy.
Excitement. For the first time during an intimate encounter, I was experiencing actual excitement. I felt myself growing achy and wet, and I longed to feel Darrel touching me down there.
Touch me, Daddy. Claim me hard.
Enthralled, utterly captivated, I melted into him, wrapping my arms around his thick center. I held him tightly as we kissed and dry humped one another on the sofa.
When he situated his center between my thighs and gave several forceful thrusts, I threw my head back and cried out, overwhelmed with the pressure of his hardness pressing directly on my aching parts. I imagined once we lost our clothes, it would feel even better. Especially when he impaled me and filled me to completion.
As we continued kissing, I unwrapped my arms from his waist and fumbled with the button and zipper on his jeans. All the while, he kept thrusting his center against mine, driving me wild with the delicious sensations.
“Stop moving around! I’m trying to get to your dick!” I gulped in air as I stared at him, this handsome man who wanted to be my daddy.
“You’re being awfully sassy for a little girl who was just caught stealing.” His visage grew stern as he stared down at me.
“Stealing?” I scoffed. “Go check your mailbox, big guy. I left a bag of flour inside. For your information, I rarely steal. Only when I’m super desperate, or when I decide the person in question is an asshole who deserves it.”
“A bag of flour? And where did you get that?”
“From the last settlement I visited. A place called Breaker’s Mill. I made the trade fair and square.” I repressed a shudder as I recalled the mayor’s demands that I marry a stranger of his choosing, how my hopes of finally belonging somewhere were dashed when I discovered the cost of citizenship.
Darrel’s eyes widened. “Breaker’s Mill? That’s over eighty miles from here.”
“Yep, and I’m aware of the distance. Have you ever been there?”
“A few years ago, yes. I had an abundant harvest that year, and I traveled north in search of medicine since my stockpile was running a bit low, and I ended up staying in the settlement for two nights and making a nice trade.” A lazy grin spread over his face. “They tried to recruit me for citizenship. Offered me four wives.”
I giggled and swatted his chest. “Are you serious? That’s so unfair.” I quickly told him about the mayor and his desire for me to marry a stranger of his choosing. “Why didn’t you stay there?”
“Because this is my home, and I only want one woman. One babygirl to call mine. And I could never stay in a settlement and follow customs and laws I don’t agree with.” He leaned down and nuzzled his face against my neck, and I resumed my efforts to unfasten his pants. But the damn button wouldn’t budge, and the zipper seemed to be stuck.
“Guess you’re gonna have blue balls,” I said with a smirk as I removed my hands from his crotch area. “Such a pity, because I can do sinful things with my mouth.”
His eyes flickered with surprise, and I got the impression he wasn’t used to my type of humor. Or maybe I was a little bolder than he was used to. Whatever the case, I liked catching him off guard, and I took the opportunity to better admire his features. I noticed a small scar on his right cheek, and his beard was slightly uneven. He was still handsome as ever, and I still wanted to get in his pants.
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and I shivered as his fingertips trailed along my neck. He leaned down as though to kiss me, only to pull away at the last second, rise to his feet, then scoop me up in his arms. He carried me toward a set of stairs and hastened to the second floor.
A bedroom. My heart skipped a beat.
He was taking me to a bedroom.
Sure enough, we entered a large bedroom that was dominated by a huge bed that had more pillows than I’d ever seen in one place stacked upon it. It looked like something from one of those home décor magazines I sometimes came across in abandoned convenience stores. I gasped as he carried me closer. I counted eight pillows. Eight! Several were trimmed in lace and ribbons, too.
“This room is amazing,” I said. “Did you do the decorative stitching on those pillows? Because wow, I’m impressed.”
“The pillows?” He set me on the bed and gave me an odd look. “Uh, no. About five years ago, an older lady from town gave them to me in exchange for a box of canned tomatoes.” He scratched at his beard, shifted a little on his feet, and I could’ve sworn he blushed slightly too. “I figured I’d keep the main bedroom looking nice like this with the fancy pillows in case I, uh, ever got a girlfriend.”
“That’s actually pretty sweet.” Reaching for his hand, I twined my fingers through his and squeezed, overcome by the need to bring him comfort. Five years ago. He’d been alone for at least five years. I wanted to ask if he’d had a girlfriend or perhaps a wife before that, but I couldn’t find the words. Later. I would ask him about his personal history later. And maybe I would tell him about mine too.
“Sweet? You think so?” With his free hand, he touched one of the lace-trimmed pillows. Then he moved that hand to my hair and stroked gently through my semi-tangled locks. I’d brushed my hair this morning, but it had gotten messy during the garden tussle.
