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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
JENSEN
The moment Amanda left the house, I rushed upstairs, straight into my bathroom. I’m not even considering using the same batch of condoms I use with Amanda; my little nightmare deserves her own. I rummage through my cupboard, grab the unopened condom box, and pull one out. Then I rip it open and tuck my shorts and boxers below my raging cock and balls.
“Fuck,” I groan, sliding the latex down my shaft. The need to come is painful, so I know it’s not going to take much to spill.
I wrap my inked hand around my cock and close my eyes. Jesus, I’m going to have fun with her. Her pouty little lips are going to taste all of me.
I fuck my fist with vigor, clenching my teeth and willing myself to last longer than I know I will.
“Oh, fuck, Little Nightmare, you’re going to drink me down.”
Visions of Immie with her mouth dripping with my cum flash before me. “More!” I demand as my hand works faster. “You’re going to choke on it. Choke on Daddy’s hot cum.” It will slip from her lips, sliding down her chin.
My balls pull up.
“You’re going to drink Daddy’s thick load.” I bite into my lip. “Every.” My chest rises as I imagine her mouth struggling to accept all of me. “Damn.” Her tongue darts out to brush over the tip of my cock. “Day.” I tip my head back and unleash a growl as I come hard.
Waves of pleasure unload into the condom, and all I can see is my little nightmare on her knees for me, begging for more.
My chest heaves, and I drop my head forward as I come down from my orgasm. I make quick work of removing the condom and tying the end. After I tuck my cock away, I pull open the bathroom door and head straight for Immie’s bedroom.
As soon as I step inside, her vanilla scent embraces me, and I scan the room, as if looking at it for the first time.
It’s plain, simple, no makeup or jewelry on her dresser, or the chaos you’d expect from a teenager. It’s almost as if it’s a spare room, one that doesn’t get used often. Has she always been one step outside? As if she wasn’t going to stick around for long. I think back to the other day when she said she might move out, and my heart clenches.
She’s not going anywhere.
She’s my heart.
My home.
And one way or another, I’ll make sure it stays that way.
I shake my head and go into the bathroom, where I place the condom down on the sink. It’s full, almost bursting, and a pang of regret hits me.
My cum should be inside her. Deep inside her.
Next, I check out her closet, and again, it’s minimal.
Compared to the walk-in closet I share with Amanda, there’s barely anything here at all.
This won’t do.
With my hand, I skim the fabric of the few meager items hanging and shake my head.
How did I allow this to happen?
Poison has taken over my home while my girl has been silenced, simply existing when she should be thriving.
She’s been crying out for her daddy to take control, and only now have I truly heard her.
My first priority is to order Immie some more clothes. Suitable clothes. For now, this little blue summer dress will do.
I take it down from the hanger and place it on her bed.
Followed by the sneakers she always wears.
