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“There are no other grandfathers like you—”
He hisses in my ear, sinks his teeth into the lobe. “You do not interrupt me while I’m speaking, young lady.”
“Okay,” I whimper, my sex drawing inward. Squeezing. “Yes, Daddy.”
Walt tries to clamp down on a hoarse sound but doesn’t accomplish it in time. He likes it. Likes being called by that title. That realization is such a relief, I begin trembling. “You strutted into the bar with your tits bobbing up and down, face like a fucking angel. You let that child think he could get his dick inside what is…”
“What is yours?” I supply hopefully in a strangled whisper.
“You can’t be mine, dammit.” His words might have hit me like bullets if he wasn’t molding my breasts in his hands, sliding his hands in through the neckline of my dress and stroking, pinching, teasing my nipples into stiff peaks. Laboring to breathe in the back of my hair. “You can’t.”
I arch my back so I can press my butt back into his lap, wiggling and shifting side to side on his lengthy arousal. “Yes, I can. I want to be yours.” Something vulnerable wells up inside me and collides with the magnetic connection I feel for this man. “I need to be.”
“Angel baby…” His right hand leaves my breasts, fingertips slowly skating down over my belly, hesitating, before sinking inside the front of my panties, delving into my valley of wet flesh, his groan loud in my ear. “This is too fresh for an old man. And yet, if you’d let that horny nephew of mine anywhere near it, he wouldn’t have made it to sunrise.”
“You’re the only one I want to dance with.” I lay my head back against his strong shoulder, watching closely as the view of my breasts makes his jaw turn slack. “Show me what it feels like.”
