His hips started to thrust into me lazily. At first, it felt a little uncomfortable and a bit sore, but as I got used to the rhythm, that stretch started to feel good.
“More,” I demanded. “Please. Fuck me harder.”
“Baby…” His breathing was labored, his teeth gritted as he held back.
I shifted my hips up until he sunk deeper in me. I let out a scream of pleasure. “Yes. So good…feel so good,” I babbled.
I heard him curse, and before I knew it, my legs were by my ears, and he was thrusting in my ass hard and fast.
“Is this what you want, you cock hungry little slut? You want me fucking you like a whore? You liked it when I left money on your desk? Fucked you like a slut and paid you nicely, didn’t I?”
His words should’ve made me angry, but instead more pussy juice spurted out of me.
“Fuck, you like that don’t you? You like it when I talk dirty to you?”
His hips moved harder and faster while my fingers sank into my pussy hole. His eyes stared at my three fingers pistoning in and out of my pussy. The sound of my cunt slurping came faster and faster before I screamed out my orgasm. Cum squirted out of me onto Michael’s stomach, and that was enough to set him off. He held my legs as he groaned and grunted through his pleasure.
His lips met mine, his breath rough against me. “I love you, Dee. I fucking love you. This is it. You’re it. No one else for me but you.”
It was very early in the morning when we went back to his house. It was dark, and to my surprise, it wasn’t that messy. A cleaning crew was coming later today to help with the rest of the cleanup.
The house was quiet, our steps echoing against the wooden floor. We almost made it to the stairs before a small noise paused us in our steps. My brow furrowed, and then a low, feminine moan rang out. This time, longer and louder. It was quickly followed by a long, very loud masculine groan.
“Fuck, baby. You taste so good.”
“Is someone–” Before I could finish my sentence, a sharp cry echoed down the stairs.
“Yes, eat my pussy, Daddy! It feels so good.”
“Is that Luc–”
“Motherfucker!” Michael yelled out, dropping my hand and covering his ears. “Roman, get your fucking ass down here. Lucy!”
I heard a scream cry out above, but this time it definitely wasn’t in pleasure.
“Fuck easing her into it,” Michael murmured, his face red in anger.
I glanced up at him, confused. Lucy was upstairs with…Roman? The teacher. No, it couldn’t be.
But sure enough, Roman Drake—the man introduced to me as Michael’s colleague and a former teacher of Lucy’s—came ambling down the stairs. He didn’t look ashamed or embarrassed. I blushed when I recalled him busting into the room last night, catching Michael with his fingers up my skirt.
Lucy rushed down after him in a pair of sweatpants and a large t-shirt that I did not recognize. Her face was bright red.
She glanced sheepishly at Michael before doing a double take when she noticed me next to him. Her gaze zeroed in on how close we were standing.
“Dad? I–I didn’t know you would be home so early.”
“Evidently,” he gritted out. “You let him talk to you like that? He’s a fucking deviant.”
“You’re one to fucking talk, Thomas.”
He took a menacing step forward before I grabbed his hand and tugged him back. I mean, Roman wasn’t wrong. He’d said dirtier things to me in bed, although I was glad I never called him “Daddy”. I shuddered at that.
Lucy wrapped her arms around Roman’s waist, and he instantly relaxed, his face softening down at her.
She turned to Michael, her face turning pink again. “Dad, I’m sorry–”
She abruptly stopped when she saw our hands clasped together, fingers entwined.
