Owen 429

Owen

Pushing her face against the wall, I kick her legs apart with my feet, and she tries to turn and reach back to touch me as I work myself out of my jeans. I growl, fisting her hair and shoving her back around. “Keep your hands on the wall.”

“Oh, yes sir.” She giggles, arching her back, pushing her ass into me. The sound of her excitement grates my nerves.

I growl again, firming my grip in her hair to keep her turned away. “Shut the fuck up.”

After rolling the condom on, I slip inside her before she has a chance to ruin my erection. I don’t want to be doing this, I never do, but if my mind won’t stop, I need to. I might as well try to get some enjoyment in the process.

I regrip her hair, the dirty-blonde locks so similar to hers , and fuck her like the whore she is. She moans under her breath, so I give her head a little jerk in warning. “I said to shut the fuck up.”

As long as I don’t hear her, I can enjoy this, I can pretend she’s who I really want. Her body is just small enough, her hips fitting my hand with the perfect curve. Her ass is a little bigger, not that it’s really a bad thing, and her eyes are the wrong color, but I don’t want to look at her eyes, anyway. I pound into her, yanking her head back so far she’s looking at the ceiling. Her whimpers are followed by a moan, but I grit my teeth and let it slide.

Picking up my pace, I dig my fingers into the skin of her hip. She gasps for air like she can’t take a full breath from the way I have her head pulled. When she moans between gasps, I smack her forehead against the wall. Planting my palm against her cheek, I smoosh her face into the wall. “Last chance. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. I don’t want to hear you.”

I’m close, but not close enough, and this is taking too long. I just want this to be over but can’t go home unsatisfied with these thoughts in my head. I hate myself for this, but it’s the only thing that’ll hold me over. Squeezing her hip harder and fucking her like she’s the source of my fantasies, I close my eyes and imagine the one I really want. The one who’s hair is on the darker side of dirty-blonde and big green doe eyes match mine. Pale-pink lips that smile at me even though I never return the courtesy. I imagine cupping her face as I kiss those lips and hearing her whimper as I touch her.

It’s enough to finally send me over, and I shudder as my release washes over me. As soon as I’m done, I slip my dick out of the girl and discard the condom. While I’m tucking myself away and closing my jeans, she turns with a smile and attempts to touch me. “That was— ”

I grab her throat and slam her back to the wall, making her head bounce off it. “What the fuck is so goddamn hard about shut the fuck up?”

Turning red in the face, she claws at my hand while gasping for breath. I squeeze harder, a smirk tugging at my lips as her face goes purple. Her gasps grow louder, her mouth opening and closing like a fish as she tries to force out words. Her pleading eyes bulge, and my smile widens a little more before I roll my eyes and release her. I shake my head as I exit the room at her coughs and gasps. I shouldn’t take my anger out on these girls; it’s not their fault I’m in a shit mood with a bad temper. However, she should have known better than to cross one of us. She’s here to pay a debt, not pick up a sugar daddy.

I walk out to the main floor of the club and plop onto the couch before signaling the waitress for another drink. Another girl is already crawling over on all fours. Everyone who works in this club is here because they owe us a debt, and some stupidly think sucking up to someone in charge will shorten the sentence. Whatever helps them sleep at night. Most chose this as their payback method, so if they don’t like it, they can blame themselves.

The girl slides her hands up my knees with a question in her eyes just as the waitress arrives with my drink. I toss it back, ordering another as I stare at the blonde at my feet. Blonde like hers . I give her a nod to which she smiles before she crawls into my lap to dance.

I won’t fuck this girl. I’ve gotten what I need for the night, but I need Kyrie to be asleep when I get home, and it’s still too early for a Thursday night. I hate coming here. It feels so low even though I help run the place, but I wasn’t having any luck at the bars finding someone who suits me. Someone who reminds me of her . The one I hate myself for wanting. My princess.

Kyrie .

She was my world, my everything. Hell, she still is, she just doesn’t know it. I don’t know what happened, what changed or when it changed, but one day, I looked at my beautiful girl and all I could see was her on her knees for me. I was so shocked and disgusted I drank myself into a puddle, then woke up feeling like perhaps I’d had a bout of temporary insanity. That there was no way I was lusting after my granddaughter, but then the thoughts never stopped.

I couldn’t stop noticing her perky little tits that would fit right in my palm. Her plump ass that sat atop her slender legs. Then there was her maturity. My girl has always been beyond her years. Every day I wanted her more and more. I had to distance myself. No sane grandfather would think that way. I despise myself for the hurt on her face, knowing I put it there with my distance, but I couldn’t bear how she would look at me if she knew why . I never meant for her to suffer because of it either. I tried so hard in the beginning to still have the same relationship with her, but every time we were together, all I could think about was taking her in ways no man should. I had to distance myself.

Then Glen and his wife died. Fuck, the hole in my chest at losing my wife, then my son is gaping. Consuming. Kyrie’s presence in my life is the only reason I haven’t joined them. Knowing she needed me so much, that I was all she had.

It’s gotten worse since she’s been living with me, though. My desire for her has grown every day. The animal inside me claws at the surface anytime she’s near, ready to take her and maul her and make her mine. I can’t do that, though. I’m a sick fuck for wanting that.

So our short time in the kitchen once a day is all I allow myself. The only few minutes I selfishly take to drink in every inch of her intoxicating presence. And she’s such a good girl for me too. She holds my stare every day when we do this, like she can feel me telling her not to look away. If I were to give myself more than that, I’d cross a line I can never come back from. I hate hurting her like I do. She’d understand if I told her, but I can never tell her. That’s why I still call her princess. It’s my way of telling her she’s still mine.

The girl on my lap arches her back deeper, her round ass in the perfect spanking position. Kyrie floods my mind with all the ways I could ruin her for anyone, but me and my dick stir again. Fuck.

Looks like I’m fucking this girl too.