Angel by Dani Wyatt

stunning to see me on her there.  I’ve imagined it, fantasized about it in the dark of my bedroom, in the morning, in the shower, on my deck, everywhere.  In such a short time she’s colored my dreams in so many ways and so many times.  And the reality is infinitely better than the fantasy.
    This is more brilliant than any masterpiece.  Her open wet cunt with my fingers inside her, and my cum dripping over her clit.  Her hands are still clutched around my cock like she can’t imagine letting go.
    “You will be mine forever, you know that, Angel?  You’re never getting away.”  I lean forward, kissing the tips of both her quivering nipples as her eyes try to focus.  “You love to cum for me, don’t you?”
    “Yes.”  She breathes it out as if it’s a huge relief to agree with a matching nod of her head.
    “Good.  Because you will only cum for me.  You will do what I say.  No one else will ever have you like this.  You are Daddy’s girl — my sweet Angel.  Daddy’s best girl.”

Chapter Nine
    _______________________________________________
    CHASTITY

    M y hand doesn’t feel like it’s mine anymore.
    Magnus has claimed it as his own.
    My eyes drift from the angular, jutting brow, lower down to where the black of his beard starts, just under his cheekbone in front of his ear.  I like how it moves under his chin when he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, bites it then releases, over and over.  I shiver when I think of the hair I saw around the base of his cock earlier. 
    He’s stunning.  I’m fascinated by his throat.  The way his Adam’s apple moves with every swallow.  I imagine how it must have looked when his mouth was fixed between my legs, moving against my secret folds.
    Licking.
    Swallowing.
    Licking more.
    Sucking and swallowing.
    Gahhhhhh!  My inner thights are still warm from the burn of his beard.  My insides quiver and go taut as Magnus brings my hand to his lips.  He holds my fingers there, not kissing, just breathing with my hand there, his other hand resting on the worn, brown leather of the steering wheel.
    His face is a mask of tension.  I feel it coming off of him and see it in the set of his head.  The tightening in his jaw muscle.
    “Are you okay?”  My belly flips and flutters.  He’s been too quiet since we left the motel after picking up my stuff.
    “Not really.”  The timbre in his voice tells me his answer is honest.
    “Did I do something wrong?”  I have this new sensation of being utterly truthful with this giant hulk of a man who’s taken me into himself, bit by bit in microscopic increments, over the last few months.
    He’s taken me, then he’s spilled it all out and shaken me up, spun all my desires into a beautiful package and given it back to me with sensations that make my head light.  My heart is filled with truth, connected now to someone else, a feeling like nothing I’ve ever known.
    “You didn’t do anything wrong,”  he says reassuring me.  “I did.  I let you stay in a place like that.”  Even under the thick darkness of his beard I could see his jaw tense, and hear it pop.
    After we went inside the motel room to get my duffel and the few clothes I hung up, Magnus said he would arrange to have the Corolla towed to a mechanic near the cabin tomorrow.  But I could tell as soon as we pulled up to the dump where I slept last night, as soon as he took a breath so deep his jacket tightened across his chest, that he wasn’t happy. 
    Now, he’s driving but he’s still holding his breath.  He’s alternating holding the steering wheel and gripping his nose and mouth. I had to shake his shoulders to get him to draw in oxygen.
    “You didn’t let me stay there.  It was all I could afford right now.  I told you that.  It’s not your fault.”
    “I know what you told me, but it’s still on me.  I wasted too much of our time.  All the time from the day I met you, and during that time you lost your mother, your dog,