Page 45 of Accidental Dad's Best Friend

“Sex Pistols. Van Halen. The Rolling Stones. I’ve seen you wear all these shirts and I can’t help but wonder if you just thought they looked cool or–”

“You mean Nirvana’s not a brand?” She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and I blink. Then a grin spreads across her cheeks and she nudges me.

“Brat.” I shake my head and finish off my whiskey.

“Of course I listen to them. I grew up on them.” She teases me and I find myself smiling again. Then I find myself hard. Despite all of this, I can’t help but want her. I don’t know. Knowing someone was fucking with her and the kid, knowing she was alone and afraid, it makes me want her even more. I want to claim her. To make her mine so anyone on the outside looking in will know who she belongs to.

Looking down at her, I think Izzy might be thinking the same thing. She’s looking up at me with blue, doe eyes, biting her bottom lip. I pull her against me and kiss her. I haven’t had hersince I found out about Jaxon. But it doesn’t change anything. She’s still Izzy. And I still want her.

“I want you,” she says as if she stole the words from the tip of my tongue. I nod and pick her up, carrying her to the bedroom. It’s not without some struggle, though. Not because she is heavy (she’s not), or because I don’t know where I am going (I do. I picked the place. I know the layout). But I keep tripping over things.

“What the fuck was that?” I bark out.

But Izzy just giggles. “A remote control car I think.”

“Jesus,” I shake my head but there’s a smile in it. When we finally get past the trail of toys, I toss her on the bed. Then I crawl on top of her, caging her in. Our mouths meet again and we kiss deeply, hungrily, greedily even. Hot, wet, soft, all the things I have been craving. Dreaming about. Fucking myself with my own hand to.

All women are soft. That’s what makes them so delicious. But this woman…her lips are so full, so sweet, so incredibly innocent that I almost feel bad nibbling on them. Emphasis on almost. Because this girl also has a dirty side, something else I have had wet dreams about, and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to live out those dreams.

I tug the t-shirt from her head and toss it aside, kissing her once more on her sweet mouth before devouring her neck and burrowing my face in the swell of her breasts. She is wearing a sports bra of all things and I scowl at it. It’s a cock block and I want it gone.

“This has got to go,” I demand, running a finger under one of the straps and letting it snap.

While she wrestles with it, I strip myself down before grabbing her again. Her eyes land on my cock, full, hard and ready to go. A bead of precome drips from the tip, down the side of the shaft and she watches it with a wild hunger in her eyes.

“Do you want it?” I ask.

She nods.

“Then take it.”

Izzy leans down and her hair falls around her head. I pull it back from her face and hold it in my fist. If she’s going to suck my dick, I want to watch.

And she does. Fuck me does she ever.

Izzy takes me firmly in her palm, the girth of my dick dwarfing her small, feminine hand. Fuck. seeing her pretty little pink fingernails wrapped around me is enough to end me. Then she parts her lips and licks starting at the base and sweeping all the way up the length of me, catching the drizzle of my desire for her on the way. She lets out anmmsound before wrapping her lips around the tip and sucking.

“Oh fuck, that’s it. Good girl.”

I have to brace my hands behind me, fisting the sheets in my hands. Beads of sweat are already pouring down the nape of my neck. I’m going to come. And I’m not ready. As good as this feels– and trust me, it’s fucking good– I don’t want it like this. I want to come with her moaning.

I take her by the hair again and pull her head back. Then I hold it, forcing her to look up at me. “Do you want me inside you?”

She nods as best she can with my fist around her hair and I get on my knees. Then I grab her by her waist and flip her onto her hands and knees, yanking her hips back against me. With my hands digging into her soft, pink, perfect ass that just won’t quit, I drive myself inside her.

“Fuck!” She lets out and I realize she is biting the pillow.

“Too much?” I ask. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

But she giggles half heartedly. “You’re not hurting me. The only way you could hurt me is if you stopped.”

I can physically feel the blood in my veins run dark at that. A heat rises inside my chest, shooting to every part of my anatomy and I thrust my hips against hers again. With quick, rhythmic movements, I grind into her. Over and over and over again.

Fucking her has been good every time. But something about this angle, about the way she is bent over, taking it from me as I rail moan after moan out of her sweet little mouth, well, that's enough that it doesn’t last long. Can’t last long. They say men at my age have low libido. That they have trouble getting up and getting off or some shit.

Clearly those men have never fucked Isabelle Sloane. And they’re never going to.

Chapter 17

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