Page 16 of Rough Marshal Daddy
“God damn,” I groan, my fingers tightening in her hair but not pushing. “Your mouth feels so fucking good. Sowarm and wet. Look at those pretty lips stretched around Daddy’s thick cock. You’re doing so well, baby. Taking me like you were made for it.”
She bobs her head faster, taking me deeper each time, her hand stroking the base where her mouth can’t reach. The wet sounds of her sucking mix with the spray of the shower, obscene and perfect. Her saliva drips down my shaft, mixing with the water. My balls draw up tight, heavy and aching. Every swirl of her tongue, every gentle suck, pushes me closer to the edge.
“Fuck yeah,” I growl, voice strained. “Just like that. Suck Daddy’s cock, Riley. You look so beautiful on your knees with my dick in your mouth. Been dreaming about this. About filling this sweet mouth and watching you swallow every drop.”
She whimpers around me, the sound vibrating through my length. Her free hand slides up my thigh and cups my balls gently, rolling them in her palm. The added sensation nearly makes my knees buckle. Pleasure coils tight at the base of my spine, building fast and intense. I’m so fucking close already, too close.
But I don’t want to finish like this.
I pull her off gently but firmly, my cock slipping from her mouth with a wet pop. She looks up at me, lips swollen and shiny, eyes dazed with lust. Strings of salivaconnect her mouth to my throbbing dick. The sight is filthy and beautiful.
“Enough,” I rasp, breathing hard. “I need to be inside you.”
I lift her up again, this time turning her around and bending her over in the shower. Her hands brace against the tile wall as hot water rains down on her back. I spread her legs wider with my foot, admiring the way her ass looks presented for me, pink and perfect. My hands grip her hips, thumbs stroking the soft skin there.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” I say, lining my cock up with her entrance. “I’ll try to be gentle, but I’ve got to fuck this tight little pussy.”
She pushes back against me, eager and needy. “Please, Daddy. I want you inside me.”
I push forward slowly, the head of my cock stretching her open. She’s still so wet from earlier, hot and slick, but so incredibly tight. Inch by inch I sink into her, groaning at the way her walls grip me like a velvet fist. The feeling is overwhelming. Hot. Wet. Perfect.
“Fuck, baby,” I growl, bottoming out with a deep thrust. “You feel so good. So tight around Daddy’s cock. This sweet pussy was made for me. Taking every inch like a good fucking girl.”
Riley moans loudly, the sound echoing in the shower. I start to move, slow deep strokes at first, letting her adjust to my size. The water makes everything slippery, running down her back and between us. I reach around and rub her clit with two fingers, feeling her clench around me.
“That’s it,” I praise, voice rough. “Take Daddy’s cock. Let me fuck this sweet pussy the way it needs. You’re so wet for me. Dripping down my balls.”
I pick up the pace, thrusting harder, the slap of wet skin on skin mixing with the sound of the shower. Her moans grow louder, breathier. I grip her hips tighter, pulling her back onto me with every stroke.
“You like that?” I growl, leaning over her back so my mouth is near her ear. “Like Daddy fucking you hard in the shower? Filling you up so deep?”
“Yes,” she gasps, pushing back to meet my thrusts. “Harder, Daddy. Please.”
I give her what she wants, slamming into her with powerful strokes. The pleasure builds fast and intense. Her walls flutter around me, squeezing tighter with every thrust. I reach around again, rubbing her clit in fast circles while I pound into her.
“Come for me,” I demand, voice dark and filthy. “Come on Daddy’s cock. Let me feel you milk me.”
She cries out, her pussy clamping down hard as she comes, pulsing and fluttering around my length. The sensation pushes me right to the edge. I thrust deep a few more times, then pull out and stroke myself fast, spilling across her back and ass with a deep groan. Thick ropes of cum paint her skin, warm and sticky, mixing with the water running down her body.
I pull her up against me, holding her close as we both catch our breath. The water continues to rain down on us, washing us clean. I kiss her shoulder, her neck, her wet hair, my hands gentle now as I hold her.
“You’re mine,” I murmur against her skin. “No matter what happens when the storm ends.”
She leans back into me, soft and trusting, and for the first time in years I let myself believe that maybe I can keep her.
17
Riley
I wake up slowly in the middle of the night, my body heavy and deliciously sore in all the best places. The heavy quilts are tangled around my naked legs. My skin feels sensitive everywhere Mason touched me, kissed me, claimed me throughout the long day and well into the night.
I stretch lazily, a small satisfied sigh escaping my lips as memories flood back. His mouth between my thighs. The way he filled me so completely in the shower. The rough, filthy words he growled against my ear while he moved inside me. I’ve never felt so wanted, so thoroughly cherished, in my entire life.
But the bed beside me is empty. The sheets are cool where he should be.
I sit up, blinking in the dim glow from the dying embers in the wood stove. The cabin is quiet except for the soft crackle of the last logs and the distant, much gentler moan of the wind outside. The storm has finally calmed. I wrap one of the thick quilts around my bare body like a cocoon, the fabric soft and heavy against my skin. It smells like him. Like us. I slip my feet into my boots by the door.
The front door creaks softly as I push it open. Cold night air rushes in. I step out onto the porch, pulling the quilt tighter around my shoulders. The cold is refreshing after the heat from inside. Moonlight spills across the snow-covered clearing, turning everything into a glittering wonderland. Mason stands at the railing, his broad back to me, wearing only his jeans and a flannel shirt unbuttoned at the top. His breath puffs out in visible clouds in the cold air.
