I concentrate on her plump pink clit. Like her nipples, it's made to drive a man out of his goddamn mind. Not shy and elusive. No, not my sweet girl. Her little clit is fucking erect and hard, begging me to eat it. Her flavour is rich, salty, sugary, and feminine in every damn way.
The spray of the shower has completely soaked my trousers, the fabric sticking to my thighs. I thrust up into the material, groaning as I eat her out, eager to get her juices on my tongue.
She weeps in my mouth—such a wet girl. Her hips meet the motion of my tongue, working her pelvis in circles to the meticulous rhythm.
I thrust in deeper. Her sweet, pussy clenches and clings and it takes my entire focus to not grip her backside, flip her to her spine and stretch that rippling little cunt open around my cock until she can't breathe from being so full of me.
Growling, I fist her arse cheeks as the tension spreads through my muscles, scorching a path around my limbs. It's hot and agitating, provoking me to act on that impulse.
I flatten my tongue to her clit, work two fingers inside her pussy from behind, scoop them to hit the wall of her arsehole, and knead the tissue hard.
"Ahh!" she cries out, her throaty moans rolling into groans and whimpers as she comes on my tongue. "Sir. Yes. Yes." She acknowledges her screams belong to me, using her name for me in the throes of her pleasure.
My good girl.
I begin to kiss the swelling flesh, sucking all the feminine juices pooling around my fingers. Lapping around them, I tease her sensitive skin, and she bucks and writhes as the last few shocks of sensation twitch through her.
She drops, her knees hitting the tiles on either side of my body, her head seeking sanctuary in the curve of my neck. She pants against me. "Let's get out of this shower, little deer. And from now on, I want you naked and warm in my bed when I get home. Now say, yes, Sir."
She lifts her head, her dual-coloured eyes hazy from her orgasm. "Yes, Sir."
I stand with her legs wrapped around my waist and walk her through the bathroom before setting her on her feet by the heater. I flick the vent fan on. Feeling an intense sense of importance being her caretaker, I wrap a white Egyptian cotton towel around her narrow shoulders, before beginning to undress myself.
After pulling on a pair of jeans, fatigue hits me but my mind drifts to the range. I need to fuck or shoot. My cock is rock hard, and my little deer can't keep her eyes off me, watching my crotch as I tuck her in.
"Why—" She falters, as I slide the silky sheets up her naked, sated body.Is it enough? What I'm offering her?She's a goddamn young girl who has crawled her way from one place to the next, never finding a sense of home, anddammit, I thought taking care of her was simple. Routine. A sequence of necessities. Warmth. Pleasure. Sweet food bursting from between her lips. A moist pussy. Those things, I can do. Looking after her isn't like running adamnorganisation. I have no fucking clue what to do with this girl to stop the pain… to give her meaning each morning now that she is no longer striving to just survive—
She watches me watch her, her eyes growing heavy. Her relaxed state plays out with the steady rise and fall of her breasts.
I sigh roughly. I do know what her body needs. Despite how little I manage her mind and temperament. As I brush the blonde hair from her cheek, my knuckles sweep it over her soft skin. A fan of pearly-blonde hair creates wings around her. "I need you to trust me," I whisper to her, scrolling my eyes over hers, watching as her beautiful blonde lashes bat slowly, peace and comfort at my affections weighing them down. "I know what your body needs, little deer. I know when you need my tongue and lips buried between your legs, worshipping your sweet pussy until you shred the sheets by your hips. And I know when you need me to muffle your screams and bend you to take my drives like it's the last minutes of life. I know when you need a deep, steady fuck with my nose sliding on yours and our eyes locked. I know what your body needs. But you’re still a teenage girl—" I touch her temple, tapping lightly. "I don't know whatyouneed… I will fix this."
I only need to understand your mind better…Numbers, I understand.Logicalexplanations. Patterns of behaviour—If only there was a way—I frown.
Reaching into the bedside table, I retrieve a finger prick blood test. Staring at it, I flip it over in my hand. It's been in here since she tried to drown herself a few weeks ago. And tonight, she sat in a shower for hours, staring at a wall.Eccentric,emotional behaviour.
I don't like it.
I look at the sweet girl in my bed as she drops heavily into slumber, the ghosts of her past dissolving from her eyes with each slow accepting bat of her long dense blonde lashes. I gently take her small hand in the large grip of mine and prick the tip of her index finger.
Her eyes fly open.
My good girl doesn't pull her hand from my grip, only glances down at the small bubble of crimson fluid pooling at the tiny puncture site. "It's okay, sweet girl. I'm just testing your LH hormone."
I put her finger between my lips, sucking the small bead of blood into my mouth and then kiss the pinprick softly. A hint of concern washes over her, so I add, "I need to know everything about you. I know nothing about the inner workings of a young girl's mind, and I want to understand your moods.Rather, I want toanticipatethem."
"I want," she murmurs, unable to fight the pull of sleep, willing to trust me, her eyes close during a slow nod of acceptance, "a kitten."
Fuck me. A kitten?This is not the house for a kitten. It would be just as lost as my little deer in this cavernous estate. I imagine this request will elapse tomorrow.
I breathe out hard as I watch over her, from her slender neck to the small divot between her collarbone, her shoulders and arms, her hair thick and blonde like a Barbie doll.
I clench my teeth, wincing through the pain in my chest. I rub at the ache, never having felt anything vaguely this intense or… volatile. Like I could go from calm to feral in a second for her, and—that's dangerously out of character.
Just as lost as her…
Darting my eyes to the implement fisted in my hand, 45 mlU/ml displays at me in blue on the viewing panel. According to the blood tests taken during her stay in hospital a few weeks ago, that is well above what it was. She'll be ovulating soon. Perhaps now. Perhaps tomorrow…
The baby. The cooking. The pillow stacks. It all gave her meaning. A reason to get up in the morning.