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“Yes, Daddy.” I lose my fucking mind when she gives me that gift.

Dragging open the front of the soft pink, fuzzy fabric and snapping open the front clasp of her bra, she spills out the softest, most brilliant tits God ever put on this earth.

“Feed me,” I growl and I see her swallow. She’s still a bit insecure, but it only winds her farther into my heart. I need her a little unsteady, needy for my words and my help.

She leans forward, tentative, scooping one hand under the weight of her magnificent left tit. She’s full, lush, and it’s the most beautiful thing to see her nipple harden as she brings it to my lips, her own mouth parted, waiting for whatever comes next.

My mouth fills with her, my tongue tracing and memorizing all those little bumps, the raised center, the warm rim. She arches when I hollow my cheeks and draw her over my tongue and near to the back of my throat, increasing the suction until it is impossible to draw more of her into my mouth.

These are my own thoughts, but they’re shocking. I need so much from her, so quickly, but I’ve been told that is the way in our family. A helpless tradition, a dominant trait that comes straight out of family legend, stretching as far back as the Viking ancestors. Men that don’t just choose a woman, but a mate. A one and only that seems to call to them from some time before time was measured. I didn’t believe it until now, didn’t expect it, but now it’s happening to me. These new feelings slamming around inside me like a wrecking ball. Smashing the old me and creating a new one in its wake of devastation.

I need to cum like my heart needs to beat. I want to lift those soft hips up, release my cock, and set her on top while I play and suck at her tits, but I won’t take her like that, not here.

Not in a car.

I’m still doubtful her body can take what I have.

I am not a virgin, but with more than a decade between me and any other female contact, I’m feeling like one. When I release her softness from my mouth with a sucking pop, a shuddering breath raises her chest. I drop one of my hands into my right front pocket, digging around for my knife while she looks at me with a question in her eyes.

“What are you doing?” She half smiles and giggles as I grope in my pocket with a grunt.

“You’ll see. Unbuckle my belt, Angel. You need to get your hands on my cock and give me some relief. Otherwise when we get back to my place, you may need to speed dial 911.”

My fingers finds the slick pearl handle deep in my pocket. As I pull the folded knife free, I see hesitation in her eyes.

“That wasn’t a suggestion when I said to get your hands on my cock babe.” I raise my eyebrows and give her a stern look. “Get your hands down here and get my pants open,” I grunt and she moves with purpose, but I also see a flash of fear come across her sweet face. “You’re okay, babygirl. You’re just going to hand-fuck me while I make you cum again. Then we’re heading back to my place. It’s your turn to make Daddy cum, babe.”

Those last few words send a blush to her cheeks, but her tongue comes out to dance on her lower lip. I grip an iron fist around the knife as she does as she’s told, managing to unbuckle my belt, which is no small task. The hard-on from Hades is making enough upward pressure to hold it tight.

No one has ever made me want to talk like this, so overt and vulgar. But with her, it almost feels beautiful, like it’s part of how I love her.

Love her.

That’s the Viking thing again because no one in their right mind would think someone like me could fall in love at first sight. But I did, that first moment, I knew it and now I’m sorry I fought it for this long. The primal need clutches around my throat, but as sweet as she looks, as accepting as she is, I still need her to understand it all.

“Angel.” I nearly stutter as her hands graze across the tip of my cock under the layers of fabric, sending a jolt of energy over my skin.

“What?” Her eyes dart from my face down to her hands. Even under the layers of compression shorts, she can feel what’s there and I love the anticipation in her eyes.

“Just... I want you to understand why you’re going to call me Daddy. I need you to be clear.” I see her swallow, and the tension seems to release in her shoulders as her hands slip the leather out of the buckle.

“Okay.” A dance of her tongue again, coupled with a devilish little smile, has my balls tingling. Her hands are so close; I may not get a chance for her to get her hands on me before I explode.

“I’ve never felt like this. Not with anyone. When I saw you the first time in the store, I don’t know, something switched inside of me. I’m not fucking kidding, it felt like a click or a twinge in my heart. And this whole new world I wanted to live with you became so clear.” I keep the knife in one hand and bring the other to graze down her hair, stroking it behind her ear, then resting my hand on her bare leg.

“I remember that day, too. When you walked in and I saw you. I mean, you do draw a girl’s eye, you know. But it felt different. I figured it was just bad tacos or something.”

I squeeze her leg and can’t help the laugh that comes out.

She laughs too, and her grin is adorable. “I don’t think that was it though. I didn’t have tacos that day.” She shifts a little on my knees and I move my hand to push her skirt higher. I want a view of her pussy; I need it in my line of sight. Her panties are in shreds and she shimmies her body a few inches instinctively giving me a better view, and I fall for her more every second. Her pussy owns my ass, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

“I’m not going to be your boyfriend.” My eyes search her face for a moment and my voice falls to a low timbre. “That’s not enough. I’m not going to date you like a boy. I need you in a way I didn’t understand before. I need you to come to me. I need to take care of every fucking thing in your life. I want you to come to me first with everything beautiful and good that happens in your life. And I require you to come to me with everything that is bad or sad or challenging for you as well. I want it all; every time your head hurts, I want to know. Every time you feel insecure or need someone to tell you how gorgeous you are, that’s me. I’m also not going to hesitate to turn that sweet ass over my knee when you need it. When you act up, I’m going to be there with what you need. I’m also going to fuck you like I own you, and you’re going to thank me every time.”

My little monologue has her eyes wide, and thank fuck she’s holding back a crooked smile and not trying to find a way out of the car as fast as possible.

“Can I take you out now? Daddy?”

Holy fuck.

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