Page 38 of Spoil
The man gives me a warm smile and a hearty handshake. “Of course, Mr. King. I added a little extra something in the seat for you as a thank you for your generous donation,” he says, and I heat a little. After our talk, I didn’t need Nell to know he squeezed us in because of a donation I made to his stables.
I hold my hand out for Nell to steady herself as she steps up the small metal stairs on the side of the carriage, before bending and offering my hand to Danny with an exaggerated bow like her own personal butler. She giggles, but places her small hand in mine and concentrates as her small feet climb the shaky stairs. After I get in and settled on the seat, George shuts and latches the door behind us. It’s a little colder here than in the city, but George has outfitted us with a large wool blanket for our laps and a wicker basket at our feet.
Nell spreads the blanket over the three of us as George arranges the tack and mounts the driver's seat. I open the basket to find plastic cups and mini bottles of champagne, a box of chocolate-covered strawberries and a box full of cheese, meats and crackers. I smile. Good man.
Nell’s wide eyes find mine, so I shoot her a wink. Her returning blush is an image I want to capture forever. So, I pull out my phone. “Get together, girls. Let me take a picture.”
Danny is happy to oblige, leaning against her mama and giving me a wide grin. Nell rolls her eyes but can’t suppress the genuine smile she has on her beautiful face. I snap the picture before I get lost in just how beautiful my Nell is. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, even if her life has given her dark bags under her eyes and a gaunt thinness to her cheeks.
I hand Nell one of the glasses as the carriage lurches forward. George begins his presentation, explaining the different houses and who used to live there or if they played a role in theRevolutionary or Civil War as I pour the champagne into Nell’s glass and then mine. I silently offer a completely enraptured Danny a strawberry. From the corner of my eye, she gives me a head shake.
Instead, she lifts the cheese and cracker box, opening that and setting it in Danny’s lap. Danny’s too busy staring at the beautiful homes we pass and listening to George’s theatrical storytelling to eat. So I lean behind her back a little and offer the strawberry to her mom. Nell blinks at it, eyes looking far away as if she’s remembering the first time I fed her. When she blinks again, leans forward, and digs her pretty white teeth into the chocolate-covered fruit, I’m instantly hard. Thank God for the blanket. She licks the juice off of her lips and yes; I need more of that. I don’t care if I have to be hard for the next hour.
George must pick up on the fact that Nell and I are hardly listening, because he turns to talk directly to Danny and asks her questions as he navigates through the town. They must be used to his carriage because the cars are careful to drive slowly around us and Pumpkin. Halfway through the ride, George pulls Pumpkin into the roundabout of a hotel I hadn’t noticed.
“I normally don’t do this, Danny, but you look like a responsible young woman.” Danny’s spine straightens at the challenge, and she nods.
“What do you think, Dad? Is this young lady responsible?”
My chest squeezes as my breath leaves me. It feels like an eighteen-wheeler hit me straight on.Dad.Emotions grip my Adam’s apple. It’s the first time someone’s called me ‘Dad’. Proper noun. Not Danny’s dad, or ‘my dad’, but Dad. Like that’s my proper name. Luckily, George doesn’t wait for a verbal response from me because I’m too busy blinking back tears. Nell places her hand on my thigh and squeezes it for reassurance. God, she must see what that’s done to me.
“You wanna come up here and learn how to drive Pumpkin?” he asks her.
Danny lets out a tiny gasp as she looks to her mom first and then to me for approval. I defer to Nell, who smiles and nods.
A squeak erupts out of her, and I help her climb down the stairs of the back part of the carriage so she can climb up the driver’s stairs with George’s help. George is getting a sizeable tip, too.
While George explains how to hold the reins and what commands Pumpkin knows, I grip Nell’s hip and drag her against me. She comes eagerly and cuddles into my side.
Maybe it’s the champagne, or maybe it’s her, or maybe it’s being able to see her and not touch her for weeks, that’s got me feeling bold, but I rest my hand on her thigh, and she does the same to me. I flex my quad muscle just for her.
As the carriage rocks us through the historic streets and the sun fades, I decide this moment could only get better one way. I slide my hand a little higher, to the crease between her thigh and her belly, and wait for her to stop me. She sucks in a breath and holds it, but instead of pushing my hand away, she squeezes my thigh with hers.
I drag one finger over the seam in her jeans where I know her pussy aches for me. I do it so gently, so slowly, wanting to torture us both a little. Nell’s chest breathes a little deeper with each pass of my finger until she’s squirming. I have no idea how much longer this carriage ride is, but I’ll buy the fucking carriage and horse if it means I can bring my sweet little Nell to completion.
I undo the button of her jeans and drag the zipper down, pausing to give her the space to say ‘no’, but when she grips the waistband of her own jeans and shimmies them down a little, I know she’s just as eager for this as I am. Four years without touching another woman. Four years remembering that one perfect night. Four years of jerking off to the memory of her.Four years of longing, and yearning, and praying she would find me.
I slide my hand under her panties and almost groan aloud as her wet, hot cunt greets me. She’s already soaked for me, and I have to adjust myself under the blanket when my erection becomes painful. But tonight’s not about me. I know she’s still hesitating to really accept all that this could be, all that I could give her. The caveman in me demands to keep her sated and out of her mind with orgasms and lust until she finally gives in, but the grown man in me knows it’s not that simple.
Tonight, however, I’m somewhere in between.
I drag my four fingertips through her lips and use the middle two to circle her clit. Her back arches immediately in response to my touch. God, it’s been four years for her, too.
I do the same motion again and again, trying to judge how much time I have to get her off.
I slip one finger inside her and revel in the shudder that courses through her body. I caress her twice before sliding another finger to join the first. The hand she has on my thigh grips it tighter in encouragement. I stroke into her like I would if I were fucking her, long, deep, drugging thrusts. I want her to remember that night. I want her imagining it’s me on top of her, thrusting into her when she comes.
Her head drops to my shoulder as her walls tremble.
“I’m close,” she whispers against my shoulder, and my chest swells with pride. Fuck yeah, she is.
So I thrust into her again, rubbing the heel of my palm against her clit, and it only takes two more before her pussy clamps down on my fingers and her nails dig into my thigh. I bring my free hand to the back of her head and drag her hair over her face, creating a curtain of beautiful red curls to hide her orgasm face from the public.
After a long moment, her walls tremble and release me. I gently slide my fingers out of her and settle her panties back in a more comfortable place before pulling them from her jeans. I tilt her chin up to look at me and watch as her hooded, glassy eyes drop to my mouth. I can’t help the wicked grin that spreads over my face as she watches me lick her cum off my fingers one at a time.
“Jesus,” she whispers, her face turning so red her freckles almost disappear.
Just then, the carriage shudders to a stop. Perfect timing.
