Page 47 of Primal God

“Not there.” She looks down at her breasts. “There.”

My hand works its way up her side until I’m cupping one breast. It’s more than a handful and I fucking love it. Breasts like these are made to feed children. My cock throbs. If she were mine, I would keep her bred all the time just to see these globes full of milk. The thought has me lifting her breast out of the water. Her pink nipple hardens in the cool air. Leaning forward, I lick a slow circle around it before covering it with my mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” she breathes out as her fingers thread through my hair.

I go back and forth between licking and sucking all while she rocks against me.

“I’m close, Dimitri,” she says. “Harder. Please.”

I pull back, making her pout.

“Do you remember that night?”

It’s risky asking this. What if she doesn’t remember?

Her lips part. “What night?”

“The night after I caught you and my son out here. When you called me Daddy…”

“Of course I remember.”

I lean in, brushing my lips against hers.

“Then you should know what to say to make me suck your beautiful tit harder, little girl.”

“Will you suck harder? Please,Daddy?”

I almost come right then and there, but I want to make sure my girl comes first.

“Good girl.”

I cover her nipple with my mouth, sucking harder. Her sounds of pleasure echo off the pool walls, fueling me. When she comes, it’s with my name on her lips.

But the moment she looks at me, eyes begging for more, I’m overcome with guilt so severe that it has me pushing her away from me.

What in the hell am I doing out here? My wife died less than a year and a half ago!

“Dimitri?”

I run a hand through my hair. “This was wrong. Fuck. I’m so fucking sorry, Ms. Wolfe.”

“Ms. Wolfe?” Her eyes glisten in the moonlight with unshed tears.

I swim to the stairs, getting out as fast as I can. My heart pounds as more guilt assaults me.

And João… what will my eldest son think if he finds out I was sucking on his ex-girlfriend’s breast like some kind of villain?

My stomach roils, and it takes everything in my power not to be sick.

A hand touches my arm. I turn to find Lilith—Ms. Wolfe—with her swimsuit back in place. My eyes close, because more desire courses through me, conflicting with the guilt swirling deep in my gut.

“Dimitri, look at me. Please.” Her soft tone has my eyes opening. “We did nothing wrong, Dimitri.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “I think we both know that’s not true.”

“We were playing a game. Nothing has to change. I promise.”

I exhale through my nose. I should be comforting her, telling her the same thing she’s telling me. Instead, I nod.

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