Page 136 of Like A Moth To A Flame

“Did I say you could stop?” I asked, one eyebrow cocked as I looked down at her, and I watched her throat bob up and down when she swallowed.

“No Daddy,” she whispered, her voice harsh and her breath coming in sharp, rattling bites.

I pulled her forward and pushed into her mouth again, her hands coming up to press against my thighs as she fought to hold herself steady. Groaning, she fought the tears that prickled in the corners of her eyes, her hands gripping my hips to hold herself steady. She needed something to keep her grounded, and she found me. I was there, just like I would always be there. I was her comfort, her safety in the storm.

Even if the storm was me.

I continued to fuck her mouth, slowly in and out as she worked her tongue across the shaft and then swirled it over the head, catching every drop of desire that drooled across her tongue.

“Good girl. Fuck, you’re such a good little whore.”

I was close, and it began to throb and hurt, raw and aching from the number of times I’d given it to her.

Fuck, she was going to tear my dick to shreds, but I just couldn’t stay away from her. Worth it. It was all worth it.

Just when I knew I was close, I pulled back, stepping away from her to give her the view she wanted. I saw her watching me, her swollen lips falling open as I swiped her panties off the counter and, holding them in one hand, wrapped them around my cock. It only took two strokes before I spilled myself across the crotch of her underwear, cupping them around the head as I pumped ribbon after ribbon across the fabric.

When I looked up at her, the shock on her face was unmistakable, and it brought a chuckle bubbling in my chest.

“Now you’ll wear them home like a good little girl, just like this. I want you to smell like me, and anyone who tries to come near you will know who you belong to.”

33

Wings, hearts, some things are meant to be torn apart

Moth

Ifelt free.

I didn’t feel fear for the first time in longer than I could remember, and nothing was holding me down. The wind blew through my hair, and the remaining sun rays beat down on my shoulders.

There was a very real and heavy chill in the air, and by the time I pulled up outside my dad’s house, I was shivering. Throwing the car into park, I pulled the key out of the ignition.

Was I ever going to stop thinking of it that way? As my dad’s house?

It was my house now, wasn’t it? When would see it as that? It was going to take a long ass time.

Maybe by the time the baby gets here.

I snorted at the thought. It had been weeks since the masquerade ball, and nearly two since the day I’d found out Tommy was the one behind it all, and we’d had a varietal fuck-fest on his livingroom floor, and there was no sign of a period—yet there was also no sign of pregnancy.

Sitting in the front seat of my car, I looked up at the stained glass window above the door and squeezed my boob—first one, and then the other.

Nothing.

No ache. No twinge. No pain.

Shrugging, I kicked the door open and grabbed my purse off the passenger seat.

Whatever. It would happen when it happened.

If it happens,the voice in my head reminded me, and I sighed.

Maybe it was because thirty was just a couple of years away. Everyone looked at me like an old spinster already, but I was beginning to fear it would never happen. Before, I didn’t care, and it hadn’t bothered me to think I would never be a mom.

But now?

Now I looked around the yard, taking in the long, tufted grass in desperate need of mowing. I imagined little brown-eyed kids running around beneath the oak tree, and swinging from the tire swing that I was determined to re-hang, and now that I had someone to want it with? I wanted it. I wanted to be a mom.

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