Page 70 of Don't You Pucking Dare

He works his tongue faster, spreading my legs wider. He spits on my pussy and then slips his dick right in. I’m thrown offfor a second and then it turns me on to feel his spit lubricating my entrance. When he’s hovering over me, his lips find mine. Our lips dance to a melody that makes my fingers ache for my cello as I kiss him back, clenching my pussy to grip him as much as possible.

He grabs the back of my knee and holds my leg up. I start moaning at how amazing this new position feels, and then he forms another ball of spit and it lands right between my lips.

My eyes widen at the contact. It’s cold and why the fuck would he spit in my mouth? I swallow it, staring up at him.

He slides in and out with rhythm. "You’re mine, Duchess."

He pulls out and dives his tongue straight into my clit. Oh, fuck. He works me up and then slides back in. He keeps doing this and it’s working up a fine-dining rich orgasm that makes me want to suck the cum out of his cock. I’m on the edge of bursting when he stops.

"What’re you doing?" I ask, the swelling of my overused pussy is pulsating. Being fucked this much throughout the night is going to catch up to me. And my head is still pounding. The haze of the drugs and alcohol have subsided a little more. I’m not so numb anymore.

"Making you wait until after breakfast. Get your ass up." He smacks my clit with his fingers and then moves around the bed.

Get up? I sit up on my elbows, and my vision goes blurry. Shit, my head. I lay back down. I think about leaving this room. I don’t think I walk. I don’t think I could face Jack. I sit straight up, letting my head rush. Did I fuck Jack?

I shake my head, keeping my eyes closed because my brain isn’t catching up to my movements. "I don’t want to leave this room."

Brody starts putting on his clothes, and I wish he wouldn’t. His tattoos crawl across his chest and dance down his arms. A man as fine as him should be studied. There’s no amount of torture that could keep me away. Well… because… look him.

"Okay. Breakfast in bed then." He pinches my pussy lips and winks at me. Then he’s out the door, shutting it behind him.

I lay back on the bed, wondering what the hell I was thinking early this morning. My memories hazy, but I recall seeing him in the bathroom, sneaking into his room, and him fucking me. I rub my eyes. Guilt claws at me because of Brody. Maybe the fucking me and eating my pussy while I’m asleep is a red flag, but I’ll ignore it if it means I have access to him.

I grab my phone and dial the facility where my mom is. On the second ring, they answer. I asked to speak to my mom.

"She’s unavailable."

My heart pounds. "No. You’re not doing this to me again. Let me talk to her. Is she even there? I thought she was released."

"I’m afraid that I cannot release patient information to you."

I scoff. "Excuse me, I’m her daughter. I’m her primary contact! I used to come in every week. I’m on the list!"

"I’m sorry, but you’re not on the list, and we value our patient’s privacy. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Yes, actually! Can I still visit her?"

"I’m sorry, Miss Kemper, but you will be denied visitation as you are no longer on the list."

I stand up. "Are you serious? Can you please just tell me if she’s there," I beg.

"Unfortunately, it is client confidentiality, and I’m unable to give you private information."

"This is bullshit! Let me talk to whoever’s in charge."

"Sure," she says way too fast.

She transfers me, but it doesn’t ring. Instead, a chipper woman’s voicemail blasts into my eardrum, telling me to leave a message.

God fucking damn it!

Beep.

"My name is Lola Kemper, and the front desk is refusing to let me know the whereabouts of my mother, and I’m only calling to ensure her safety. I will have to make a police report if you do not call me back within the next… let’s see… five minutes. No, you know what, I’ll be calling them as soon as this voicemail ends. The police will be arriving at your facility to check on the well-being of my mother." Click.

I wait five minutes like an idiot, but my phone doesn’t ring. Instead, Brody walks in with a big plate of breakfast food. I take the plate from him and put it on the nightstand. I need him to fuck me right now.

I have a throbbing head, body, and pussy. One of those needs relief.

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