Page 184 of Wanting What's Wrong

I nod, teeth sinking into my bottom lip.

He drops the bags and cookies on the long chrome and linoleum kitchen table and crosses the room in four long steps. “Get those tits out. Daddy’s hungry.”

I move. Because I’d do anything he says and because the demand in his voice brooks no argument.

I work the two buttons holding the flannel shirt closed, then it slips off my shoulders as I press my backside to the wooden table, hands flat, hips tilted to thrust out my chest.

He crouches in front of me, and starts to suck.

This time, it’s slow. Worship. Wonderous. Intimate.

I’m feeding him. Giving him substance in a way no one else can.

His hands stroke my shoulder, my sides, my hips. His mouth stays latched as he drinks. Moaning every few seconds like it’s thebest thing he’s ever tasted. Moving from one breast to the other, kneading them with his fingertips, squirting the cream deep into his throat.

“Good girl,” he murmurs against my skin. “Such a sweet little cow, makin’ all this for me.”

I moan, my legs shaking.

“I’ll take care of you, Jenna. Feed you. Breed you. Keep you full forever.”

That word—breed—makes something inside me snap. I take hold of my own tit and squeeze, milking myself into his mouth as I cry out.

His hand work my hips, pushing, pulling me across the table onto my back, dropping his jeans and lines himself up again, I don’t hesitate.

I just let my legs fall wide open, and watch his face as his eyes drink me in.

I want it. All of it. Every filthy promise.

“Say it,” he grits. “Tell me what you want.”

“Want you to breed me, Daddy.”

His growl is pure animal as he takes me again, harder, deeper, pouring into me with every brutal, beautiful thrust. He reaches up, takes his hat from his head and puts it on mine.

“I can’t see.” I giggle as the blunt force of his cock probes at my entrance.

“That’s the idea. I’m gonna fuck you blind baby. You just lay there, don’t think, don’t look. Just feel. Feel every fucking inch of Daddy.”

He doesn’t stop until I’m wrecked and dripping and marked from the inside out.

Until I’m full.

Exactly how he wants me.

Exactly how I need to be.

Six

Jenna

It’s Sunday.

The shop is closed.

Which means, apparently, I’m not allowed to wear clothes. Big, bossy daddy has a lot of rules, and me and my red bottom are learning them slowly but surely. It’s been four days and he’s fucked me on every surface in the house.

I’ve fed him on a schedule that he laid out. Morning feeding in bed, his head on my lap, my breast dangling down into his mouth as I finger comb his hair and tell him all the things I dream of in life. Then, he eats my pussy, or fucks me until I’m boneless, then nurses again.

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