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Next Door Daddy
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Who said having a s*x addiction was a bad thing?
This is a super steamy steamy, standalone single dad next door romance. No cheating and Happily Ever After Guaranteed! Bonus Content included.
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Chapter 1: Grant
Her whiskey-colored curls bounced with each thrust as I buried my cock deep inside her. We’d barely made it out of the car and into my house before she’d unsheathed it from my pants and stroked it to the proud tool I couldn’t wait to use on her.
Not that she was special, no. Any willing, discreet woman would do, but she had made a habit of pursuing me and for the moment I was too interested in a release to tell her to fuck off.
Sylvie turned her head and looked up from the couch where I’d bent her over and hiked up her tight skirt. “Don’t you want me your bedroom, tonight?”
I slowed my pace and furrowed my brow. She’d been eager each time to make it to my bedroom like it was property she needed in Monopoly. Too bad for her, I roll the dice and I had no interest in taking that ride on her train. “No, but I have plenty of guest beds if you’re interested.”
She giggled and clenched her tight walls around my throbbing erection. “You can have me wherever you want.”
I glared down my nose at her and smiled. “Then I’ll try and be creative.”
Even if I considered myself a sex addict, and recognized my problem, I still had standards for myself and respect for my late wife. I’d never taken any of the women I used to get my fix to our mated bed. Not that I still felt married, no. In fact it truly was till death do us part. I’d see her again someday, and I’d always love her, but none of these women were worthy of their backs touching the same cloth she died on.
Maybe it was morbid of me to keep the same bed. Most people would have gotten another and being that I’m a billionaire and money’s no object, I could certainly afford it. But we’d spent the last days of her life hunkered down in that foxhole together waiting for the last leg of the battle to end us both. And it did. When her lovely soul departed to the great beyond, it took part of me with her, leaving nothing but a great big black hole that I’d chosen to fill with sex.
I cleared my mind of the memories and focused on the back of Sylvie’s head. Those bouncy curls had stilled and so had I, but I wasn’t finished. Not even the memory of all that pain could kill my hard on. It was as if the last year of my forties was out to prove that age really was a number and Grant Roberts was as virile as ever.
I slowly slid out of her and she turned around to wrap herself closer. Her long nimble fingers working the buttons of my shirt until she swept it back off my shoulders. I stepped away from her long enough to drop my pants to the floor. She lost her threads too and then rubbed herself eagerly against my cock as I led her to the veranda and lay her back across my breakfast table.
Dipping down between her legs I stroked and lapped at her soft velvet folds, my tongue slipping in between them flicking at her clit and then I nibbled there with the soft brush of my teeth. Her body reacted beneath me, and she giggled as her fingers twined in my hair. I did some finger play of my own and rubbed her tight star. She stopped her silly giggling and a moan many octaves lower escaped her. I’d found a sweet spot and not for the first time.
I stood over her and lowered myself to her mouth, still pressing on the spot she loved best. “Is it ready for me?”
“I’m not sure.” She ducked her chin away from me.
“That’d be a no, then.” We’d had this conversation the last time. She’d all but begged me to take her ass, but I wasn’t about hurting anyone and she wasn’t ready for it. I’d found that out last time and I wasn’t the type that got off on fucking someone to tears, especially when I knew they were tears of pain.
Her gaze slid up my body as I pulled back and she pouted her lips. “I want it.”
I searched her eyes. “If that were true, you’d have trained it.”
She frowned and tugged at my shoulders. “Please. You know I like to be fucked hard. I want it rough.”
A growl of frustration escaped from my throat and I turned her around and held both of her slender wrists and put her face-down on the table. She panted and whispered, “Please.”
I wasn’t sure what kind of fantasy she was living, but I knew better than to do anything that would hurt her, but if she wanted rough, I’d give her rough. In one hard thrust I was back inside of her soaking wet channel and as I hit home a scream erupted from her throat followed by another giggle when she realized I’d tricked her. She should have known better.