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From the kitchen we enter the dining room which is great but unused since I mostly eat on the barstool in the kitchen. We finally come to the foyer and pass the front door before going up the stairs. “You own this house?” She spins around looking at the sky light above before walking up behind me. My eyebrow raises at her question. She notices and drops her head. “I’m sorry. I just… it's just that you own a general store.” I can’t stop chuckling.
“It is my family home.”
“That makes sense. But by definition doesn’t that mean you should have a family here?” I watch her running her hands over the granite counters and a voice inside of me says, "there will be one soon.”
“Haven’t found the right person.” Until now, I grumble under my breath. We make it to the second floor and I show her to one of the rooms beside mine. This house has a total of five bedrooms, but the one next to the master is meant to be a nursery, but right now, for the next few days at least, she can sleep in it.
“This is your room, for now.” Her eyes convey the question but I am not about to unpack this shit right now. I am barely hanging on as it is. “Why don't you freshen up. I will bring you in towels and such. I assume you have something to get you through the next day or so?” She nods her head, suddenly shy, her lip between her teeth. “Shit,” I mumble backing out of the room. “Dinner will be in an hour or so.”
Spinning on my heels I barely make it out of her space without sealing my lips to her and bouncing her on my fucking lap. Christ. My cock hasn’t stopped growing since I laid eyes on her. “Get it together, Harlan.”
Downstairs I pull out the pot that is in the refrigerator, a sign that Lourdes, my housekeeper, has been here. Without checking to see what it is, I pop it on the stove and turn the fire on. My eyes keep looking up, my mind and body wondering what she is doing right now. Is she showering? Is her young, naked, flush body wet and slippery? Are those ripe hips spread while she washes between the valley of innocence? “Fucking shit,” I curse myself once more. This girl is going to either kill me or get me locked up.
My hands feel idle right now. They are itching, unsettled like they should be doing something else and you know what, they should. They should be gripping that little bunny upstairs, rocking her on and off this cock, one hand around her throat, bent over her back telling her to keep her fucking mouth shut and take it like the good girl she wants to be.
Before I can stop myself my hands are in my pants and I am stroking my already slick cock, spurts of cum dripping down my shaft. Feverishly I grip the pissed off beast, the purple head telling me what I already know, she is never leaving this house now that she is in it. There is no way I can let her work in my store, in public with all the single men in this town. I would have a damn riot in the parking lot within the first hour once they smell her virgin flower. “Ah fuck. Ah shit little bunny. I’m gonna fill that pussy so good.” I use images of her to bring to the brink before I shoot out all over the fucking counter.
Not even close to being sated but also ashamed of my reaction to the girl, I clean up the counter and shove my felonious cock back in my pants. When I can spell the tortilla soup which I finally recognize due to the delicious aroma, I look at my watch and realize it has been over an hour and she has not been downstairs.
Concerned, I take the stairs two at a time and knock on the door. When I hear nothing I contemplate what to do until I say fuck it. It's my goddamn house. Opening the door, I see the light for the bathroom and once again I am in one hell of a battle with myself over what to do. Then I hear what sounds like light breathing. Turning toward the bed, I finally spot this tiny little bundle in the center, surrounded by pillows and smothered in blankets and I realize she is sound asleep.
Moving to the side of the bed, I stare down at her angelic face and my chest begins to tighten. How has no one been looking after this beautiful creature? Her pink cheeks are a stark contrast to her long perfectly curled eyelashes. Those fucking porn star lips are glistening, moistened like she put on balm before she went to bed. Seriously in need of a therapist or a chaperone, I lean closer to her, close enough to feel the tiny puffs of breath from her mouth on my face and I come again in my damn pants. “Soon, little bunny. Real soon,” I whisper before kissing her forehead and walking out.
