Page 41 of Cabin Fever
I nod, pulse hammering. “Me too.”
She smiles, soft and gentle, and steps fully into the room. I close the door behind her, then turn the lock with a click that feels final.
We stand there, six feet apart, a universe of tension between us. I want to say something perfect. Instead, I just breathe her in.
“Come here, Kitten,” I say, and the words come out gentle, even though my cock is already straining the zipper.
She comes to me, arms at her sides, hands trembling just a little. I touch her face first, thumb tracing the line of her jaw, the way her pulse jumps under her skin. Then her hair, so soft it’s like a cat’s pelt. I want to memorize every inch.
“Turn around and let Daddy undress you,” I say, and she does. I reach for the bow at the small of her back, fingers fumbling as I untie it, then let the fabric fall open. She gasps at the chill on her skin, but doesn’t cover herself. The dress slides from her shoulders, down her arms, pools around her ankles like rose petals.
She stands in a pink bra, g-string, and heels, her body so perfect it makes my cock ache.
I kneel, just for a second, to slide the dress away. My face is level with her ass, round and high, barely caged by a whisper of rose mesh. I run my hands up her calves, over the backs of her knees, and she shivers.
“Good girl,” I say, letting my voice go low, deeper than before.
She turns, arms crossed over her chest, as if she wants to hide. I pull her hands away.
“Let me see,” I say, and she does—shoulders back, breasts bare except for a bra that does nothing to hide their size. They’re huge, pendulous, nipples already hard through the lace.
“Jesus Christ,” I whisper, then catch her eyes. “You’ve got the biggest tits I’ve ever seen on a girl your age, sweetheart.”
She blushes bright, but instead of turning away, she straightens, pushing her chest out like a challenge.
“Do you say that to all your ladies?” she asks, voice quavering but proud.
“Only the ones I want to keep,” I growl.
I cup her breasts in both hands, squeezing, kneading, lifting them until they threaten to spill from the bra. She sighs, a little moan escaping, and I bury my face between them, biting and kissing every inch of skin I can reach. I want to eat her alive.
“Daddy,” she whispers, and I freeze.
The word goes straight to my dick, a chemical reaction I have no control over.
“Say it again,” I rasp, squeezing harder.
“Daddy,” she says, louder now, and I know I’ll never recover.
I stand, towering over her, and kiss her—mouth open, hungry, devouring her in a way that’s as much apology as it is claim. She kisses back, just as hard, hands clinging to my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll disappear.
I break away, just enough to speak. “Do you want this, Kitty Kat?”
She nods, breathless. “Please.”
“Then you have to say it. I need to hear it.”
She swallows, eyes huge and shiny. “I want you to fuck me, Daddy. Please. Claim my innocence because it’s yours.”
I almost lose it right then.
I kiss her again, then step back, just enough to look at her. “Take off the bra, Kitten.”
She reaches behind, unhooks it, lets it drop to the floor. Her tits are even bigger out of the lingerie, heavy and white, nipples dusky pink and standing at attention. I run my tongue over one, then the other, sucking hard enough to make her gasp.
“Such pretty teats,” I say, teeth grazing the tip. “You like when Daddy does that?”
“Yes,” she moans, arching her back. “I love it.”
