Page 5 of Hard
I work myself harder, my hand sliding from root to tip, my knees connecting with the mattress as the point of no return hits me, liquid heat shooting from spine to tip. I close my eyes as Paisley pants, opening her mouth as I prepare to defile her with strands of milky—
‘Daddy?’
The door handle rattles, and I almost give myself whiplash as my head snaps in response to the sound.
Big head, little head. Who’ll win the battle now?
‘Daddy,’ Sorcha’s voice calls a little louder. ‘Why is the door locked?’
‘B... because I need a moment,’ I call back, my voice a touch hoarse.
‘What? I mean, pardon?’ she asks, correcting herself.
The handle rattles again, and this time, I really do feel like a deviant as, up against the clock, I begin to wank furiously.
‘Come on, you fucker,’ I mutter.
‘Daddy, I can’t hear you,’ she calls, frustrated. And she’s not the only one.
‘Go back to bed, darlin’. I’ll be out in a minute,’ I say louder before going back to muttering again. ‘What the fuck happened to the sleepover? Oh, fuck!’
My knees do buckle now as the fire turns white hot, building at the base of my spine this time.
‘The handle won’t turn,’ she whines, ‘it’s toohard.’
Hard and aching and almost ready to blow.
‘Go back to bed,’ I grate out harshly.
‘I can’t. Agnes is in my room, and she’s snoring. And I have a tummy ache.’
‘And I’ve got fucking ball ache,’ I mumble, past the point of rationality—too far past the point of no return.
Or so I’d thought. The image of my scantily clad Paisley evaporates like the dream as reality comes crashing back in.
‘Dad-deee-bleurgggh.’
Yep, that is the sound of my daughter vomiting.
And the sound of my cock retracting and my balls crawling away from my hand.
‘Daddy,’ comes her pitiful wail.
Me time, I think, dropping my head. Being a parent is so hard sometimes.
Chapter 3
PAISLEY
‘Paisley!’
‘Oh, somebody’s in trou-ble!’ Max trills from beside me.
‘Not again,’ I grumble, pulling myself up from the sofa and wrapping my robe tighter, following Chastity’s voice to her gleaming commercial-grade kitchen.
Her golden hair in large rollers, she stands by the open door of the dishwasher as steam billows out.
‘Why is my dishwasher full of dildos?’ she asks.
