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“Oh God, fuck, Adrian, I’m coming!”
I groan into her neck and grab her hair as my cock bursts, unleashing rope after rope of hot seed inside her.
“Milk my cock,” I rasp as she moans, high-pitched, heavenly, pure moans that only I will ever hear. “Take every single last fucking drop.”
“Oh Adrian,” she whispers against my lips as she breathes heavily.
“I am never, ever letting you go,” I rasp.
And the party isn’t over yet.
Chapter Ten
Emma
It’sme versus the hot-glue gun.
I’m not sure who’s winning.
“Ouch,” I wince, pulling my hand back from the metal tip that’s more like a medieval torture device than a crafting tool.
I look through the glass doors into the house, smiling and brimming with anticipation.
Turns out this place isn’t so scary after all. It’s at the end of a dead-end street and set back from the main road, but we have actual neighbors. Neighbors with kids. A whole neighborhood of kids, in fact.
“This is the life,” I say, stretching my legs out in front of me.
I’m sitting on the back porch with a pile of leaves and twigs spread out around me.
The former owners of this house were crafters. Imagine that. The shed that Adrian almost ripped the door off to get that axe is an absolute treasure trove of ribbons and buttons. There was nothing glittery or glamorous, but I love what I found.
I didn’t know buttons could be so cute. Now I know what “cute as a button” really means.
“Okay, and now for the eyes,” I whisper, dotting glue on a little black button and affixing it to a bigger, orange one. “One point for me.”
I dot some glue on the other small black button and position it over the orange button.
“Here we go, one little button pumpkin coming right up,” I whisper as I carefully place it. Some of the glue squeezes through a buttonhole and nips my finger.
One point for the glue gun.
I shake my head and put the glue gun aside.
“The crafting can take a break,” I say as I take a sip of my coffee.
Coffee and crafting. Does it get better than this?
I only need one more thing.
Adrian went out about an hour ago to get candy for the trick-or-treaters, and I’m sitting here in sweet anticipation waiting for him to return.
I peek through the glass door one last time as I sense some movement from inside.
My heart skips a beat as I see Adrian walk through the front door with a million bags hanging on his arms.
I scramble to my feet and throw the glass door open, making my way through the house with a little bit of a saunter.
“Hello, Daddy,” I say as I rise to my toes to greet Adrian with a kiss on the cheek. “Did you get treats that the kids are gonna love?”
