Page 85 of Ice Daddy
Irie wiggled wildly in his arms, so Lance set her down and she ran off again.
Paige didn't mind. She wanted Lance all to herself. She pressed herself against his body, ran her nails down his chest, contouring the hard bulges of muscle beneath his dress shirt.
“I've been thinking about you all morning,” she said, her voice low and husky.
He smiled knowingly. “Oh? Have you?”
“Mm-hm.”
He pulled her closer and grabbed a handful of her ass. “And what exactly have you been thinking about?”
She brushed her hand against his trousers, letting her fingers glance up and down the length of his cock. “Once Irie's down for her nap, I'll show youexactlywhat I've been waiting to do.”
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath with hunger. “I like the sound of that.”
Lance broke free from Paige.
“Hey Irie! Come here, baby girl!” He bent over and picked Irie off the floor, tossing her into the air again and again while she screamed with delight. “Let's see how fast we can wear you out!Wheeee! Wheeee! Isn't this fun?!”
***
Lance's grip tightened on Paige's ankles. He had her legs spread high as he fucked her into oblivion, until she screamed so loud she wassureIrie would begin to cry—but they heard nothing, so they kept going.
His muscular waist crashed into her pelvis again and again with a fleshyclap-clap-clap,and the headboard of his bed smacked the wall,bam-bam-bam.
His pace began to stutter, his cock growing swollen inside her, his mouth hanging open.
Paige clenched her muscles and squeezed him tighter. “Come inside me,” she whispered.
Lance roared, powering forward, fucking her with everything he had left.
“I'm coming!” he growled. “Oh God, I'm coming!”
The feel of his big dick throbbing in her pussy—the pressure blast of his champion seed coating her insides—never failed to make Paige grin like a maniac.
He washers.
All hers.
Spent, Lance lowered himself to Paige. He pressed his fire-hot lips to hers, and they sealed their bond with a long kiss.
***
Later that afternoon.
Lance waved a handful of envelopes. “Mail's here.”
Paige sat on the sofa, nursing a still-sleepy Irie. “Anything important?”
“Bills, bills, bills—oh. Hey.” He held one particular envelope up. “The results of that paternity test.”
He held it between his hands as if he were about to tear it in two.
“No! Don't just rip it up and throw it away,” Paige laughed. “Take a look at it. I told you, I'm 100% certain you're the father. I won't be mad if you look. In fact, Iwantyou to.”
“If you say so.” Lance shrugged, tore it open, unfolded the letter and began to read.
Paige studied his face and waited.
