Page 19 of Wicked William

“It sucks about their cake getting in a car wreck. I’m glad nobody was hurt.”

“You’re quite the baker. I saw that thing you did with your hands above the batter. That witchy thing.”

“Did it freak you out? I was just infusing the cupcakes with good wishes and love for the bride and groom and their guests.”

I don’t understand her witchy stuff, but it doesn’t really freak me out anymore. Too much. “I’ve eaten your food for a week now. Whatever you do seems to work.”

She smiles up at me, her eyes twinkling in the reflection of the fairy lights. “It’s all about intent and focus. As long as you focus on the positive, it will manifest.” She looks around like she’s worried someone might hear. “And eye of newt, of course.”

“Of course.” I squeeze her into me a little closer. “We gonna talk about last night?”

“That depends. Are you going to tell me you regret it or we shouldn’t have done it?”

“Fuck no.”

“Then yes, we can talk about last night.”

But there are no words exchanged, only gazes filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. It’s a silent confession of what transpired between us, and the unspoken understanding that we’re both drowning in this newfound whatever we have.

“Are you okay?” Maisy asks quietly.

“Never better,” I reply, hoping my voice doesn’t betray the conflict raging within me. “You?”

“Never better,” she echoes, her smile bittersweet, and I know she understands what I’m not saying out loud.

As the music swells around us, our bodies draw closer together.

“I liked it, Daddy,” Maisy whispers into my ear, her breath warm and intoxicating. The wicked nickname sends a surge of electricity through me, obliterating the orderly version of myself that I’ve managed to maintain until now. I can feel the beast within me stirring, awakened by the primal desire to dominate and possess her once more.

“Come with me,” I growl, taking control of the situation as I guide her away from the bustling crowd and into the shadows of the atrium outside the main room. My heart races with excitement, knowing that we’re on the edge of something reckless, yet thrilling.

“William, what if someone sees us?” she asks, her voice wavering with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

“Then you’ll have to be very quiet, won’t you?” I reply, my tone commanding and full of authority. “We don’t want to get caught.” The thought of being discovered only fuels my desire, adding an element of danger to our forbidden rendezvous.

We find a secluded spot behind a tall, potted plant hidden from view, and I push her into the corner, hiding her with my body. With a wicked grin, I lift her dress, revealing her smooth, toned legs and the delicate lace of her panties. The sight of her exposed flesh ignites a fire in my veins.

“Remember, not a sound,” I warn her, my voice barely more than a whisper as I begin my exploration.

Maisy bites her lower lip, nodding her agreement even as her breathing becomes heavier, strained by the effort to remain quiet. As my fingers trace the outline of her panties, teasing and testing her, her body trembles with anticipation.

“Please, Daddy,” she mouths silently, her emerald eyes pleading with me to give her what she craves.

“Patience,” I demand, determined to draw out every moment of this delicious torment. “You’re mine now, remember? And I intend to take my time.”

As my fingers continue their slow, deliberate dance over her sensitive flesh, Maisy’s breaths become shallow, her attempts at silence only heightening the intensity of our secret encounter. The precarious balance between control and surrender threatens to consume us.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this,” I whisper, my voice heavy with desire as I watch her struggle to maintain her composure.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she manages to choke out, her eyes shining with near devotion, which does things to me I can’t look at too closely.

“Shh,” I admonish gently, reminding her of the need for silence. I finally slip my fingers beneath the lace barrier, fully claiming her in that dark, hidden corner.

Shethunksher head against the wall and bites her lip. “Hold your dress up for me,” I demand. She looks so naughty, holding the fabric of her dress up while I slide her panties down her long, luscious legs. “Step out.”

I pocket the panties once they are free, and then I go to my knees, inhaling the scent of her pussy deeply. “You smell so good,” I whisper, my breath hot against her skin. I lick her slowly, savoring her taste until she gasps, her hips arching to push her pussy further into my mouth.

We can hear the music from the party, a reminder that we’re engaging in something deliciously forbidden. Poor baby is trying so hard to be quiet. Her knuckles are white where she’s grasping her dress. It’s going to be terribly wrinkled, a glaring clue of what she got up to with me.

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