She’s (Still) Too Young (She’s Too Young #2)(4)

Chapter Two





As soon as we're swallowed up by the garden, unable to be seen by security, retreating guests or surrounding buildings, I take the hem of Veda's dress and slip it off over her head, leaving her clad in nothing but a white thong, a matching strapless bra and sparkling high heels. She wastes no time unhooking the bra in front and dropping it to the ground. It's not about seduction, though. No, she's trying to get me inside her as fast as possible because my girl is impatient, and by making her orgasms my life, I've turned her into a certified fuck junkie.

Two afternoons prior, I had to leave the office to meet Veda on her school lunch break because she'd called me begging, her voice throaty with need. She rode my dick so hard and fast in the back seat of my limousine, plaid skirt in a tangle around her waist, I almost lost my seed before she hit her peak. 

However, thinking of how wide she'd spread her thighs isn't the best idea when I'm intent on giving her long and satisfying instead of rough, fast and sweaty. Taking a seat on one of the hanging two-seater swings, I crook a finger at Veda, satisfied when she doesn't hesitate to put herself within reaching distance.

I take her wrist and turn her sideways, allowing my gaze to stroke over her backside, before I yank her forward, draping her face down over my lap.

"Ramsey," she gasps, excitement threading through her tone. "What are you doing?"

My index finger hooks into the back of her thong, and I slowly, slowly drag it down her ass, leaving the work of art completely bare. "Didn't your father ever give you a birthday spanking?" I tuck my middle finger between her cheeks, testing that little pucker I've yet to conquer. Soon. "One slap for each year."

"No, he never did."

Satisfaction hums in my blood. "Must not have trusted himself."

The first smack of my hand is light, right against the underside of her right cheek, sending the flesh into a tight wobble. Christ, the low, cracking sound mingles with her soft moan to undo me. Her tits are resting on the swell of my hard-on so I know she feels how much I'm enjoying punishing her. I slap her twice more, crackcrack, landing one blow on each side, and she jerks on my lap.

"Pretty little birthday girl. All dressed up for her party." Slap. "What a spoiled princess you are, Veda. Wrapping me around your pinkie finger and getting anything you want." I try to keep track of how many times I've spanked her, but it's damn difficult when she starts to tilt her hips back as if she's asking for it. Loving it. And after I've given her another six glancing blows, I can't stop myself from pushing a finger into the wet home between her thighs. "Ahhh, God. You know this pussy gets you anything you want, don't you, angel? It's so very tight for Ramsey, so Ramsey spends his money. I love doing it, too."

"Feels so good. Oh, it feels so good." Her legs move restlessly as they dangle over the side of my lap. "More."

"More of this?" I deliver another five sharp connections of my palm, bringing the total to fifteen. "Mmm. Fifteen. What would I have done if I'd met you at fifteen?"

She moans, clinging to my leg. "I-I don't know."

"Yes, you do. You know damn well." Smack. A hard one. "Sixteen? Forget about it. I would have been taking you to driving lessons."

"Ramsey," she sobs, and I find out why when I finger her again. The gorgeous girl has a sopping wet cunt, courtesy of her spanking. Goddamn. Every time we fuck, the landscape changes a little more. I encounter a little more of Veda's darkness, and it's always a perfect counterpoint to my own. Here's hoping we never find the point where the balance is off. I have a suspicion we won't. "P-please finish so I can have you inside me. I'm so … hot."

"The spoiled birthday girl wants her cock, does she?" I give her the final two hard cuffs of my hand-eighteen-before winding my fingers into her hair and tightening them until she whimpers. "Open your present then, Veda. Unzip my pants and take it out."

"Yes." She heaves the affirmation, sliding back on my lap just enough to give herself access, her nimble fingers working double time to free my trapped erection. When it finally springs free, a groan is wrenched from the pit of my stomach. I swear to God, it's been trapped there since she walked out of the closet in a dress that, for all intents and purposes, could have been a short nightgown. Then paraded around in it all night in front of everyone. Men.



       
         
       
        

That memory has me strengthening my grip in her hair when she tries to take my cock in her mouth, keeping her hovering right there over the tip, that pink tongue resting on her lower lip. "Ask one of the fathers to dance, angel? Is that what you were going to do?"