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Smoothing my hands underneath her, I massage her ass cheeks as I eat her pussy, as I consume it, as I make her mine.
I can’t go slow. I can’t tease her.
I unleash myself on her, opening my mouth wide and darting my tongue up and down her clit, listening to the way her breath hitches, as sexy and captivating as I knew it would be.
I should stop, at least long enough to listen to the house, to hear if Alexis has woken up. My daughter is sleeping downstairs. This is so wrong.
But her friend tastes too delicious.
I snarl when she starts to move her hips in time with my tongue, gently at first, as though she’s afraid I’m going to tell her to stop. But then it’s like she can’t help herself anymore.
I move my tongue even faster, flickering against her bud. Her moans try to escape, but she bites down, making her sound even sexier somehow. Like she can’t hold herself back.
My tongue goes into beast possession mode when I feel how close she is. She’s on the edge. It’s in every twitch of her young body, every shiver in her breath.
Finally, she stops.
It’s like she’s paralyzed, my personal prey in a trap of my making. She doesn’t shift her hips. Her moans have cut off.
It’s like she’s floating atop the orgasm, waiting…
And then it erupts.
I snarl as her body starts to vibrate against me, as her pussy gifts me with hot squirting cream. I open my mouth wide and ravenously catch as much of it as I can, my tongue coated in her tangy tastiness, her strangled moans letting me know she’s ready for my dick, letting me know she’s going to take every thick inch.
She collapses onto the bed once the orgasm has passed, her breath high-pitched and tantalizing.
Standing, I stare down at her, at the wetness coating her inner thighs. I stare at her breasts, her hard and excited nipples. Pale veins run across her breasts, a testament to their fullness. She looks ready for so much.
For me to fuck her, to own her.
To bring our children into this world.
To care for our family.
I reach down for my shorts, my hands trembling slightly and she bolts upright, shaking her head.
“What is it?” I grunt, my hand on my waistband.
“I…” she pauses. “I can’t, Triston.”
“What? Why?” I growl, even if I think I know.
“It’s hard to explain,” she says softly.
“Try,” I ask more gently, wishing I had it in me to be more patient right now.
But I don’t even feel like myself. It’s like an animal has taken over, driven by my craving, driven by my insatiable desire to make her mine. My thick member throbs, the tip leaking precome, making my underwear sticky.
“I need to get dressed,” she murmurs.
I almost snap no.
I almost tell her that she better never, ever even think about getting dressed. But somehow I manage to stop myself, beating down that caveman part of me, remembering that she’s young and this is an awkward situation. And that’s putting it mildly.
“Is it… Alexis?” I ask, having to force my daughter’s name out.
Acknowledging my daughter makes it real, confirms that I really am a piece of shit, a piece of filth for doing this.
“No. Yes. I don’t kno—” she cuts herself off when she registers the noise coming from the hall.
Tamia and I freeze, exchanging a glance.
I bite down as I listen to Alexis’s footsteps. She’s walking across the hall, humming softly under her breath.
We both hold our breath when Alexis stops outside the door, pausing for a moment, and then continues toward her bedroom.
Tamia stares at me, her eyes glimmering.
It’s like I can read the message in her eyes.
What the hell did we just do?
I swallow, a sick feeling rising in my stomach.
“I should go,” I whisper, turning away.
I can’t think about anything, not what Tamia and I just did, not what she was going to tell me.
I just listen to the sound of my daughter’s footsteps fade.
The guilt twisting through me like a blade.
CHAPTER TEN
Tamia
“How did you sleep last night?” Alexis asks.
I stare down at my toast, hoping she can’t sense the nerves radiating from me, hoping she can’t hear my drumming heartbeat. Obviously, I know she can’t hear it. It’s not like I think she has superpowers, but the thought that she might be able to… causes my stomach to clench, making me feel like the lowest of the low.
“Fine,” I say.
Which is a lie, a massive lie.
I’m lying to the woman who’s taking care of Lisa’s heart. I’m lying to the woman who kindly offered to let me stay in her home.
I look up from the dining table, out at their neat and well-maintained garden.
Triston is upstairs.
I heard him walking around earlier, but so far I haven’t seen him. My throat tightens when I think about what it’s going to be like when we finally lay eyes on each other.
