Page 68 of Butterfly

“My butterfly is a quick learner, isn’t she? You’re sucking me so well, sweetheart. Daddy needs to go deeper. Breathe through your nose,” I coached her, and slowly sank deeper into her mouth until I touched the back of her throat. My cock was too long for her mouth, so I used her hair like reins and tilted her head until her throat opened and my cock slid inside. Her eyes widened in panic.

“You’re okay. You can take me, butterfly. You want to be Daddy’s little slut, don’t you? This is how.” I raised my hips, thrusting deeper, until she’d swallowed me all the way to the base of my cock. I held her there for a few moments, and she swallowed around my cock.

I needed to come, but I wasn’t wasting my seed on her throat. No, I was saving all of it for her pussy. And maybe her little ass later, if we got that far.

I withdrew from her mouth, smiling at Leslie’s sweet whining. She didn’t want to give me up.

I tugged her to her feet. “On the couch, face down, ass up, butterfly.”

Just then, the door opened, and Emory entered the suite.

Just like I’d planned.

This was going to hurt so fucking much. I was going to hate every fucking second of it.

But I remembered that first night together, when a blissed out Leslie had told me her deepest, darkest fantasy.

Yes, this would kill me.

But if it gave her what she wanted, it would be worth it.

25

MASON

Emory had frozen when he saw us—his eyes scanning Leslie’s body, eyes growing hooded. He wanted her. I wanted to kill him for it, even though this was exactly what I’d planned. And I’ll confess—I was a little turned on by it. He couldn’t have her, only I could, but he could play with her—once.

Leslie’s breathing had quickened. She started to cover her pussy with her hands, but I stopped her, pulling them behind her back and gripping them. She cowered against me, but she was even more turned on—I could smell it.

There it was: proof.

“Dude, your room is right there.” Emory motioned behind him.

“Remember when we were kids and the teacher would tell us it wasn’t fair to bring a snack unless there was enough to share with the class?”

“I remember.” There was a glint in Emory’s eyes. “You saying what I think you’re saying?”

“No,” Leslie tried to deny us—and herself.

“You want this,” I told her. “You told me as much, butterfly. Consider it a gift to you—and an apology.” To Emory I said, “You can’t fuck her pussy or ass, but everything else is fair game.”

I kissed Leslie’s hair.

“You want a distraction? You want to feel better? This is it.”

“But I don’t want him,” she objected. But the wetness glistening on her thighs told a different story.

I swatted her ass. “Honesty goes both ways, butterfly.”

She gasped. “How?—”

“You told me the night I took your pussy for the first time. And I’ll give you anything—everything you want.”

“But—” she protested, but it was half-hearted.

I changed tactics. “You want me, don’t you? And you want to please me?”

She nodded.

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