Page 56 of Hideaway Whirlwind
“They shaved all the dark-haired children’s heads until they turned eight years old, then started bleaching and dying them like the rest.”
“Psycho bastards.” Elliott’s fingertips tighten on my flesh. “If they hadn’t blown their shithole compound to kingdom come, I’d bury them one by one in my backyard.”
“I believe you.” I really do.
“That doesn’t scare you?”
“Yes.”Of course, it scares me. Just as much as I scare myself sometimes, growing excited instead of afraid of his promise of vengeance and violence enacted on my behalf if any of the Zeraxists were still alive to punish.
Elliott drops his head back, eyes squeezed shut with regret.
I lean in real close and promise, “But I’d help you bury them, Daddy, and dance on their fucking graves.”
Elliott goes hard beneath me, pumping his hips up a fraction. “Damn, Birdie. You sure you should be saying that to me?”
I grab his face. “Yes.” I press my lips firmly to his. No more half-kisses or shying away. No more shields between us. “Yes, yes.”
“Fuck, Mama.”
His guttural moan is the spark that ignites the flame within me, and I hum against his lips, rocking my hips along the bulge that grows larger under my ass.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Elliott grips my upper arms and holds me back. “The kids—”
“Are occupied. We’ll be quick.” I bite my lip, missing hislength inside me, our naked bodies pressed together on top of his sheets with a view of the creek through the bedroom window, the drapes thrown open to let in the moonlight. I miss the cabin almost as much as I misshim.
“Yeah…yeah, ok, we’ll be quick,” Elliott agrees, pushing his hands between us to undo his belt and zipper, then helping me get my feet under me, boots flat on either side of his legs on the lounge chair.
It’s thrilling having him tug the collar of my sweater to the side and bite my neck to muffle the sounds of his pleasure when I hang onto the back of the chair with one hand while I shift my underwear to the side. Finding his thick shaft, I stroke it until it’s wet with his precum and he’s begging me to sit on it, then wriggle my hips until his crown meets my entrance.
“Fuuuuuuck,” he moans into my skin, gripping my ass and helping me to bounce as I take him inside me, inch by slow inch, until I’m wet and have stretched to fit all of him. “I’ve missed you so damn much, Birdie.”
“Me, too. I didn’t want you to leave last night.” I arch my neck, rocking back and forth, switching up the angle as I tighten my pussy around him. “I wanted this.”More than this.
“Too soon, too soon,” he pants only a few minutes later, his legs going rigid beneath me. “Been needing you too much to last long.”
I lick his lips, growing wetter as I imagine hisneedfor me, and purr, “I want you to cum inside me, Daddy.”
He stops me with his grip on my waist. “I’m not ready for it to be over yet.”
“We have to be quick,” I remind him, though I’m just as loath to leave him.
“But you’re not gonna cum like this.”
It’s true, no matter how good it feels. Since I don’t want to have to explain how I got grass stains on my skirt if Elliott were to take me from behind on the ground, I’m content with only feeling him inside me, hoping he’ll make up for it later tonight.
Before I can tell him any of that, Elliott lifts me straight up in the air and flips me around so that I’m facing his legs. He yanks me back down on his dick, my ass flush with his pelvis when he bottoms out within me.
“Oh, shit!” I yell, slapping a hand over my mouth a second too late.
Elliott lifts my skirt up to my lower back when I lean forward to brace my hands on his knees so I can bounce and grind on him again. “Fuck, fuck, Birdie. I love this ass,” he says, spreading my cheeks.
My face turns hot until I remember he can’t see much in the dark. I shoot up straight, though, when something wet touches my backside, and I clench my cheeks against it with a little squeal. “What was that?”
“Sorry, sorry,” Elliott groans. “Just my pinky.”
“Why was it wet?”
“Fuck, Birdie, you gotta stop clenching or I’m gonna cum.” I relax enough that he’s able to take a deep breath and confess, “I spit on it.”
