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Chapter Seven - Lillian
The message sparks such a divide in me, I find myself gritting my teeth, trying to steer myself away from a ruthlessly bad decision. I glance at the sofa where his son sat down not long ago, drowning in a beer. I can’t tell him about Chuck. I can’t tell him because I don’t know exactly what is going on. I just know I have to do everything I can to help and that doesn’t include telling him that I slept with his dad or telling his dad he’s lying about dating.
The promise of shattering under his touch is too much to say no to as I message him back. I know he’s only about five apartments away. I hadn’t thought about the fact he’s staying in my building. What did I think he was going to do? Suddenly stop visiting that Airbnb? I know he is here again thanks to a quick word with the doorman. He got back to his apartment a couple hours before Chuck and I got back to mine.
How about I just allow myself one last night with him? I can tell myself no after that. I don’t want to think about how hard that is going to be though. Just the thought of his hands has me wet between the legs. I can’t believe how hot he makes me. He’s over twenty years older than me, but somehow that just makes him more irresistible. He’s experienced, dominating, and everything a real man should be. He makes me feel everything I hope a guy will, except I’ve never found someone who can do it like he can.
7:45 p.m. Lillian: I’m on the floor below and four from the left. The door with a garland on.
It’s a feather and flower garland so no one can accuse me of decorating before December. Although I can’t wait to get a tree and start putting up decorations.
I dash to my bedroom, scared of how quickly he will come up. I strip off the conservative dress and dig out my new pink lace chemise. It has matching crotchless underwear but I skip them. After his obsession with my pussy that weekend, I think I better leave easy access. I’m not expecting the disappointment as I wait for a reply and am met with silence for a long, crushing five minutes. I pace between my room and the front door, the cold air quick to creep under the see-through lace swishing around my hips as I walk.
I turn the light off as I walk toward my room. How did I manage to read the situation so wrong? He’s probably already texted someone else for a booty call. I can’t be mad about that, considering all I am to him, but I can't help it. Although I’d admit immediately that he is the kind of guy I could quickly start developing feelings for.
Despite the dishwasher going and the dull thud of the tumble dryer, I hear the quiet tap of a knuckle on the front door. Knock. Knock. Knock.
Instantly, I feel the tension in my body triple. Not in a bad way, but an aching I’m about to get railed kind of way. It’s the smile though. I feel my smile threatening rip my face in two.
Every step toward the door brings me further and further past the point of caring about our sticky predicament. We can worry about that later. Glancing down at myself, I adjust my tits, pulling them up to sit higher in the built-in bra, pleased to see them nearly spilling out in a way I know is going to have him on his knees. It will be a bonus if he has his face between my legs.
As I open the door, I get a glimpse of him staring at the floor. His arms are braced on either side of the frame as he stares at his… Are they cowboy boots?
“Sweet Jesus. Baby girl, you put that on just for me?” It’s that tone of voice. That deep growl of predatory lust.
Forgetting the boots, I scan up to meet his gaze. The empowerment of seeing him nearly drooling at the sight of me gives me the confidence to reach for his belt and pull him into the apartment. Turning those lights off was one of the best things I could have done. The darkness only makes me more aware of his proximity.
“Maybe.” I step closer, pressing my body to his as my arms wrap around his neck. My lips seek out his ear as my leg snakes up to rest on his hip. “I owe you an apology.” I drag my teeth down his earlobe as his hands come to rest on my ass.
“What?” I’m not sure if the confusion is from arousal or if he expected me to leave the way I did.
“I’m sorry for leaving.” Speaking becomes harder as he uses his hands to press me against the erection easily felt through the material of his jeans.
A sound of realization leaves his throat as he continues to gently lift my body and rub me along his length. I’m glad he is supporting my weight because the harder he does it, the more my legs shake. “Ah, yes, I think that does earn me an apology. I think that also earns you a spanking.” I barely have a chance to hear the words before he’s spinning me around and guiding me the three paces to the sofa. He drapes me over the back of it. His hand collides with my ass cheek in the same moment, the loud clap of his hand causing my body to jump at both the sting and pleasure of it. My pussy clenches as his hands ghost the skin below the crease between my legs.
“I didn’t think.” My hands grip the sofa cushions as my body hums with the anticipation of his next touch. I feel the warmth as my body kicks into high gear when I feel his tip pressing against my entrance. So my punishment is no foreplay. I’m okay with that. As soon as I feel him in place, I push back, trying to get him to push inside me, but he evades me and pulls away. This continues for a few seconds until I slump back over the back of the cushions, whining. “Daddy!” It slips out without a thought.
I wonder if I’ve made a mistake when he stills, his body draping over mine. He whispers in my ear, “What did you just call me?”
“Daddy.”
The guttural moan stirs my hair as his forehead rests on the back of my head. “Fuckkkkkkk.” He slams into me from behind, giving us both what we have obviously wanted since I left his Airbnb that Sunday morning.
“Say it again.” He pulls out to just the tip and holds my hips in place when I try to impale myself on him again. “Say. It.”
“Daddy.” When he slams into me, I get the picture. “Yes! Daddy!” He pulls me onto him. Our moans bleed together as we fuck like our lives depend on it. Why the fuck did I walk out on him? Did I lose my mind? “I’m so close.”
“What was that?” He leans me over the cushions until he’s grinding me into the back of the sofa. His hands come up to catch my tits as they fall from the confines of the bra. With every roll of his hips, he hits my G-spot, taking my legs out from under me, so it’s a good thing I’m literally draped over the cushions.
He pulls out to just the tip again as I feel myself falling over the edge, dragging a slew of expletives from my lips. “Don’t play with me!”
“Oh, baby girl, that is exactly what I plan on doing with you.”
He makes good on his promise. I lay across my bed, every muscle feeling thoroughly worked and achy but in a deliciously satisfied way. I’ll feel sore in the morning, I know.
“Can we do that again?” His voice is like a warm blanket over my body as his fingers trace patterns up and down my back.
“Maybe after breakfast…” I’m bluffing; we’re doing that before breakfast. Hell, it’s only nine thirty. We’re probably going to do that again before tomorrow.
“So I can stay the night?” He rests his chin on my arm. The silver in his beard looks brighter in the glow of my lamp. He doesn’t look old to me though; he’s the finest man I’ve ever laid eyes on, from his hair to his abs right down to his feet. How can a man have sexy-looking feet?
“Of course.” It slips out before I can stop it. I’m not thinking this through.
“You say that like you didn’t turn up to my family’s Christmas party on my son’s arm today.” Crap. How did I forget that he thinks I’m dating his son?
“I say that like a girl that wants a sexy man to stay in her bed and do those really good things you do with your tongue.” I can see he wants to question me further but doesn’t and gives in to me when I try to pull him onto me. I slide my legs around him, pulling his hips into me. I don’t think I’m going to be able to talk my way out of this so distraction is going to have to work.
