"Hold on baby," he murmured into my soft folds, a strong arm circling my waist to make sure I didn't fall. "We're just getting started."
He began tonguing me languorously, suckling my wet folds before playing with my clit with the tip of his tongue. He circled the hard nub a few times before pushing down on my hot button, then suckling more while I cried out in ecstasy. My kitty grew hotter and more engorged, hungrier than ever, and he was relentless. He tongue-fucked me, pushing as deep into my hole as he could while stroking me with his fingers, rubbing my wet folds before penetrating deeply into my inner channel.
I collapsed on him with a scream, my kitty convulsing on his fingers as wet juices gushed out onto his mouth and hand. I blacked out for a few moments, seeing nothing but stars, my heart racing as I struggled to catch my breath. My breasts bobbed heavily, the nipples aroused and standing to attention as I continued to spasm around his fingers as they slid in and out of my most private place.
As I regained my senses, he looked up at me from his kneeling position and smiled lasciviously. His mouth and chin were completely covered in my female juices, but he loved it, licking at his lips and savoring the taste of aroused female.
He stood up, balancing me against him and began unfastening the clasp on his trousers. When his cock popped out, I gasped for the hundredth time. Despite the fact that he'd been buried in me almost non-stop for the past two weeks, I could never get over the fact of his sheer size and girth. His cock was at least ten inches when aroused, and he was as wide as my fist.
I leaned forward, angling for a taste, but he stopped me before I could sip his pre-cum.
"Uh uh, Wildflower, I need to be in you asap because I can't hold on much longer," he growled. He swiveled me around so that my back was to him, and I braced my hands against the kitchen counter.
"Spread," he commanded again, and obediently I parted my legs. I knew my cunny was hot and steamy still, red and engorged with a trail of female juice running down my thigh. He traced the rivulet with his finger before breaking the strand of pearls with his fist, the beads clattering to the floor. Without any further warning, he pushed me down and thrust into me with his mighty pole, fucking me hard and deep with one stroke.
"Ohhh!" I cried, throwing my head back, loving the feel of being impaled on his massive member. The waves overtook me as he started up a pounding rhythm, driving deep into me again and again, my breath coming in gasps as he fucked me hard.
"Ohhh!" I shrieked as the pressure built. My cunny was gushing warm juices again, this time coating his cock in liquid glaze as his balls hit my clit. He paused an instant and pushed me down even further, whispering in my ear. "I want to hit your g-spot, Wildflower."
Sure enough, his glans brushed that sensitive spot when he took up the rhythm again, and the pressure in my kitty grew to unbearable proportions. With a cry of release, I came for a second time, my twat convulsing on his pole, grasping it in its wet depths and pulling him deeper. The friction caused him to release as well, and he spurted into me with a mighty roar. Our bodies shook against each other, each jet of semen sucked into my uterus by my hungry kitty, desperate for his sperm.
"Oh no!" I panicked as I arched my back, trying to make eye contact with him. "We forgot to use protection again!" It seemed so trite, since he was totally embedded in my wet depths.
He growled low in his throat, breathing in my ear. "Wildflower, I WANT you to have my baby, protection is the last thing on my mind," he said, stirring his groin and making me sigh. I couldn't believe how many times we'd forgotten to use protection in the last two weeks, it was totally irresponsible and my nineteen year-old self was not ready for a baby.
But at the same time, would being the mother of Luke's son or daughter be so bad? The way he was so loving, so tender with me, a family with him could be sweet and satisfying. I wasn't sure, but promised myself to use a condom the next time around … which judging by his hardening cock could be in about five minutes.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Luke
Back in the present day …
She was a mass of contradictions, this mother of my child. Desperately poor, yet impertinent, looking at me with a combination of lust and fear. Oh yes, lust. Even after two years of no contact, I could tell that my Wildflower still wanted me.
Oh shit. MY Wildflower? I shook it off. Old habits die hard.
She was back in my life whether or not she wanted to be because my child was a part of me and I wasn't going to let Georgie go so soon after discovering him. A man has a duty to raise his son, and I was going to fight for custody tooth and nail.
"So where's your boyfriend?" I asked nastily. I couldn't help it. The thought of someone else covering that luscious body inflamed me, even though I hadn't touched her in two years.
She looked down, her long lashes shielding her blue eyes. "I … I don't have one," she said quietly.
"Oh really?" I demanded. "Then how are you able to afford all this?" I asked, gesturing to the gated private park we stood in.
"It's my friend Helen's apartment," she replied softly, looking down at her hands. "Helen gave me the key while she's on vacation."
"So where are you living?" I demanded, one arm carrying Georgie as I hustled her out of the park. "Let's go. We're getting Georgie's things and you're moving in with me."
She gasped, the color draining from her face. Maybe it was a reminder of how I'd pressured Wildflower into moving in with me just a week after we met. I'd been desperate for her, for her scent, for her body, and had steamrolled the beautiful teen, overcoming her protestations.
This time wasn't going to be any different. I hauled Wildflower and the baby into my Range Rover and we took off in the direction she indicated. After driving for a while, I could hardly contain my distaste. We were in a rough part of town, completely dominated by public housing projects. My son was growing up here? She must have seen the contempt on my face because she began defending herself.
"It's safer than it looks," she began, "Plus, we live close to the school where I teach, and there's a daycare nearby."
"DAYCARE!" I roared. No child of mine was going into public daycare. Georgie was getting his own nanny, stet.
"Yes, daycare," she said softly. "I need to work and Georgie needs to be looked after. The daycare center is perfectly fine, I made sure they had all their licenses and insurance."
I respected her for saying that. Only a responsible mother would think to check boring details like licensing and insurance. But that didn't change my mind … Wildflower and Georgie were coming to live with me.
She came out of the house with two bags and Georgie's car seat.
"Where's the rest of your stuff?" I asked.
"This is it," she said simply. "All the furniture is rented and Georgie just sleeps with me in the bed, he doesn't have a crib."
My Wildflower was so poor that she couldn't afford a crib? I packed her into the car and began driving back in a rage. I was so angry that I couldn't even look at her, much less speak.
But there was a question that continually lingered in my mind. It had been driving me insane the past two years, and I'd lain awake nights, wondering and ruminating, completely baffled at the turn of events.
"Why did you leave me two years ago?" I asked abruptly. "What happened that was so bad? Why no note, no phone call, no nothing?"
She sighed, looking down at her hands. "Oh Luke, you'll never understand," she said softly.
"Try me," I ground out. "We were so happy Wildflower, why did you take off without saying anything? Was it something I did?"
"Oh no!" she turned to me, tears in her eyes. "Not at all." She paused momentarily and then turned to me, begging for understanding. "Luke," she said softly. "Do you remember when we got that invitation from your mom in the mail?"
"Sure," I said. "The one for my sister's wedding right? What, were you afraid that I'd be ashamed to bring you as my guest because you're POOR?" I said in disbelief. If she thought that, then I had seriously misjudged the woman because the opposite had been true. I had been looking forward to introducing Alana to my family, thinking the beautiful Cape Cod setting to be a perfect time to meet my mom and stepdad.
She nodded sadly. "I was so excited to attend the wedding as your girlfriend," she said softly. "But then I saw the name on the invitation and knew we couldn't be together," she continued.
"What?" I asked, totally dumbfounded. My sister's name was Lauren Woodson, a totally normal, boring name. Who cared?