Page 21 of Claimed By Dad's Best Friend
Cash
Well, I’ve lost it.
I no longer have control over my body, my thoughts, or my mind. I’m a teenage boy all over again, led by my cock, hungry for more.
It’s like something inside is constricting. Something instinctive and sharp. Like I’m aware of every boundary, but the need to be near Violet is inescapable.
Hell, my cock is hard again already as she tries on these cute little dresses. I drag my hand down over my beard as I wait outside the dressing room door, hoping she comes out to show me her latest option.
There aren’t many clothing stores out here, but the general store has a good selection of both clothes and goods. Some used, others brand new. It’s the kind of place where you can pick up a pair of work jeans, a coil rope, and a new dress in one swoop. Cora loves the place because they even have ice cream by the register.
“Can I help find anything?” the cashier asks, twisting her red hair to the side. “Is this for a special occasion?”
“We have a party tonight,” I say with a nod, ready for the conversation to be over. “I think we found some good choices, but we’ll let you know.”
The woman beams. “Okay, well don’t hesitate. I know how hard it can be shopping with your daughter!”
Daughter.
I swallow hard, my chest tight. “Daughter? She’s not my daughter.”
“Oh! Your niece.” She nods. “I’m sorry. Usually it’s dads bringing their daughters in shopping, but I admire you for—”
My jaw tightens. “She’s not my niece either.”
The cashier’s mouth opens slightly as though she’s running out of options. “Yeesh, I’m batting a thousand today. I’ll be back at the counter if you need anything.” She retreats a step, but she’s still looking toward me with curiosity as though she’s trying to figure us out.
I knew this would happen. We’re twenty years apart in age. Of course, folks are going to be confused by our relationship, though I didn’t see it happening the very first time we stepped out together.
Why does this make me feel possessive all over again? Why does this make my cock ache with the need to thrust inside of her and steady myself?
Violet opens the dressing room door. “This one is a little small,” she says, peeking her pretty head out, her silky brown hair falling down over her shoulder. “I don’t even want to show you.”
I grin and stand from the bench. “That sentence doesn’t make a damn bit of sense, princess. I need to see it.”
She backs into the dressing room, a coy smile on her face as she does a single turn.
“Fuck.” Every curve is perfectly highlighted. Her thick hips, her round tits, her bubbled ass.
“It’s awful,” she curls up her lip, “isn’t it? I look like a stuffed sausage.”
The tightness in my chest snaps like a rope fraying under immense strain, and I kick closed the dressing room door, leaning into her tiny little frame with a possessive growl.
“Two rules. One, you don’t ever talk about yourself like that again. Two,” I drag my hand down over her thick hips and tug her in toward my hard cock, “you don’t ever leave the house in anything this tight. This is for me.”
Her cheeks pink and she bites back a smile as I drag my hand up the inside of her leg and slip my fingers between her thighs with a groan. “When you go outside, I want you looking like the Amish.”
She sighs and squirms against my touch. “The Amish? You screw me once and now you think you’re in control of me?”
I nod slowly, my chest tightening. “I should’ve warned you ahead of time how tenacious I can be with the things I want.”
“Is that right?” she squeaks, her gaze never leaving mine. “That sounds pretty old-fashioned. We might need to bring your thinking into the current century if we’re going to make this work.”
“You think so?” I growl low and bite at the side of her neck as I pin her against the back wall of the dressing room. “So, if I ask you to get on your knees and suck my cock, you won’t?”
She wets her lips and stares up at me, blinking repeatedly. “Are you asking?”
I nod once, and she sinks to the ground like a sweet little princess, unzips my jeans, takes hold of my cock, and sucks, her eyes lit up at the taste.
