One more powerful thrust and I feel her pussy start to throb. I reach between her legs, getting my fingers on her clit, rubbing hard to deepening that orgasm, intensify her pleasure, until she can’t take it anymore.
“You’ll never have anybody else, baby girl,” I say as I pound into her, starting to feel my cum shoot up from my dick, filling her wet little bloody hole with my life-giving cum.
“Never, Daddy,” she screams. “Never. Only you. Only you.”
“Goddamn it, I fucking love you,” I growl, as I feel another wave of cum shoot out from me and deep into here, exactly where it belongs.
She gasps, reacts, and I know I’m an asshole. Telling her I love her now. In the middle of this. But I can’t stop. Won’t stop. Never less; always more.
Now she’s coming and she’s coming hard. And as she does, I feel her start to squirt into my hand and come on my dick and milk my seed right out of my balls.
And now we’re coming together, fucking animals together, fucking primal in our union. The simplest fucking thing in thing in the world.
Hers. Mine. Ours. Together.
“I love you, too,” she growls, and clenches my dick so hard, so tight, that I have no fucking choice but to release all of myself into her. Every last drop. Until my balls are empty. And my dick is spent. She’s nothing but a panting wet met mess of sweat and cum and virgin blood.
And as I wrap her up in my arms, her salty sweat on the tendrils of her curls, I know that from this point forward, my life is her.
No matter what.
No matter how.
* * *
Once I puther back together, bathing her gently in the shower, making sure she’s fed and comfortable and happy, I take her out in my Mercedes, with the sunroof open and the wind in her hair.
I steal a glance at her as I get on the highway. She’s wearing a teal sundress with tiny heart-shaped polka dots. Pale yellow bra underneath. Her hair is loose and damp from the shower, and as soon as she feels me looking at her, she looks at me with a sweet smile. And a wink.
Fuck. I’m so in love with her it makes my goddamned eyes blurry.
I’ve told her the destination is a surprise and it’s killing her. So far, she’s guessed Target, the Body Shop, the fro-yo place, and super fancy stringed instrument shop where they still repair instruments like it’s the year 1780. Note to self: we’re going to all those places, no question about it. But not right now. Because there’s something way more important than any of that.
Because now she belongs to me. And I need her to know it.
She purses her lips over to one side, and the puts her hand on her hip thinking, even though she’s sitting down.
“Oooh! Cupcakes?”
I shake my head. “Hush. Play some music. Just trust me; you’ll like what I have planned.”
“’Kay,” she says, crossing her arms, making her tits spill over the scoop of her tank top. She grabs my phone, putting it up to my face to unlock it, and then opens the playlists. “We’ll listen to the Paganini because try-outs are in,” she glances at the time, “nine hours and counting.”
Goddamn it, her parents have done a number on her. All work, no play.
“Nope. We’re not listening to the Paganini. In fact, I’m pulling the fucking Daddy card now, little girl. Whatever we listen to, it’s gotta be post-1990.”
She blinks at me. “Seriously?”
“Daddy doesn’t like to repeat himself.”
“Oh god,” she moans, curling her little toes on her flipflops. “Alright. Time for a big truth bomb, then.”
“Hit me,” I say with a cocky sniff.
“Whenever my mom tells me to listen to whatever in my earbuds in the car, what I’m really listening to…” she taps and swipes on the music app, “is this.”
Guitar, drums. And then Taylor Swift’s Love Story.