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Shifting my body, I pull out slowly. She winces and a tremor moves down her thighs.
“I’m going to be sore,” she says. “You could have mentioned you have a monster cock.”
I laugh, running a hand over my face and sitting up. Her eyes widen as I grip her thigh and move it apart, giving me my first look at her sex.
My groin tightens again even though I’ve just finished. She’s beautiful. And she’s bleeding a little, a single smear of crimson on her inner thigh and another at the entrance of her pussy.
I touch it with the backs of my fingers. She’s swollen and when I move my fingertips to her opening, she winces. I spread her gently and her stomach tenses, sending my cum trickling onto the bed.
“I’m messy,” she whispers.
I stroke up her thigh. “Let’s put you in the shower again.”
I lift her to her feet and we get into the shower together. It’s big so we have space, but she huddles back against me like she’s cold. I slide my arms over her breasts and stomach and pull her against my chest. Her soft ass settles over my cock and I let my face sink into where her shoulder meets her neck.
“Why did you get a vasectomy?” she asks.
“That’s a question for another time,” I say.
“Okay, sorry I asked,” she whispers. “I just thought you seem young for that.”
I turn her around, brushing soft strands of auburn hair back. She’s tied it up in a bun and the stray bits are curling in the steam. “How old do you think I am, redbird?”
Her eyes flick over me and she bites the inside of her mouth. Her forehead draws together and I have the urge to trace the line with my fingertip.
“I don’t know,” she admits. “You have lines on your face, but they’re the sexy kind. It’s hard to tell if they’re from age or from working outside.”
“I like your honesty.”
“You have gray hair, but I only saw two.”
“So what do you calculate?”
She cocks her head, staring up at me from beneath her hooded eyes. “Maybe…you know what, just tell me.”
“Thirty-eight,” I say.
Her lips part. “Oh…that makes sense.”
I study her quietly, wondering if the gap between our ages is a good or bad thing in her mind. She notices my silence and a slow smile starts on her lips. She cocks her head and sucks in her lower lip like that will keep that smirk off her face.
“You don’t know my age either,” she says.
I shake my head.
Of course I do, I know when and where she was born. I’ve seen her birth certificate. But I play along because if she finds out how much I already know about her, she’d be horrified.
“Guess,” she says.
I shake my head again. She rolls her eyes and something bolts down my spine and makes my dick pulse. When I have her name on that contract, every time this little redhead sasses me, I get to punish her and make her come until she cries.
“I’m twenty-one,” she says. “Almost twenty-two.”
I knew it, but hearing it from her lips is different. I’ve seen her life laid out in certificates, bills, receipts, court documents. Each one more tragic than the last. She’s far too young to have suffered so much.
I study her as she watches my face for a reaction. “You’re young.”
She shrugs. “I was emancipated at seventeen because my father died and I was so close to eighteen. Clint and I married two days after my birthday. At the courthouse in the city.”
