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my entire life. Now I have to leave her. I’ve wanted nothing more than to go to Oregon, but now that it’s here, I don’t want to walk away. I want to stay.

I want more of this, so much fucking more.

“Do you think you won’t have this when you come back?” Pamela asks softly.

I hadn’t realized that I’d spoken my worry aloud. Gathering her a bit closer in my arms, I close my eyes as her body presses against my side. She’s soft and feels so fucking good right where she is.

“Maybe,” I admit.

She lifts her head and I tip my chin down to look into her eyes. We search one another for a long silent moment. Then finally she speaks.

“I’ll be right here when you come back.”

“Yeah, what if me killing your old man does something, what if you decide I’m a monster? Because he won’t survive. I plan on his blood being on my hands.”

Maybe my words are harsh. I’m not sure, but I don’t care either. He will die and I’ll be the one to do it, if not myself, then I’m going to watch him take his final breath. Fuck Riot, fuck him and his entire club and everything that the Donkey Punchers stand for.

“I watched him kill my mother. She wasn’t a particularly good mother, but mostly because he kept her high all the time. She was mine though and he killed her because she didn’t want what happened to girls down there to happen to me. What was happening to her, to happen to me.

“I remember bits and pieces, I remember enough to know that she did not want that for me, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. What kind of man wants to have his daughter raped by countless men? Seriously? You’d be doing the entire world a service by killing him. I’d stand there and watch if I could.”

My stomach twists at her words, at the meaning of them. Clearing my throat, I tug her a bit closer. “I come back and we’re going to settle. Find a place, be together.”

Her lips curve up into a grin and she watches me for a long moment. “I like the sound of that,” she breathes.

I hum, rolling her over onto her back. She giggles and the sounds bounce off of the walls around me. Never heard a woman giggle like Pammy does, not with me. Never had a woman happy to be lying naked in bed with me, either. All I’ve ever had is cunt in the name of duty, safety, guilt, and manipulation.

Looking down at her, she’s got a wide smile on her face, her eyes bright and so fucking happy. She looks really fucking young, too and that causes me to pause for a moment. Lifting my hand, I tuck some of her hair behind her ear and search her face.

“You’re too young for me, Sunny,” I rasp. Her brows snap together and she lets out a grunt before she opens her mouth to speak, but I don’t let her get a word out. “Don’t matter much though, because I’m not letting you go. You had your chance to leave.”

“Did I?” she asks.

My lips curve up into a grin. “Not really.”

“I didn’t think so,” she says softly.

“Wish you did?”

She shakes her head, then her arms wrap around my shoulders at the same time her long legs wrap around my hips. She tilts her hips and I groan at the feeling of her pussy against my semi-hard length.

“You think I’m a teenager, as much as you want to fuck me, Sunny,” I murmur, dipping my chin to touch my lips to hers.

Kissing didn’t mean much to me before I met her. It’s different now. Having her lips on me, tangling my tongue with hers, it’s foreplay that I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of. It’s an intimacy that I didn’t realize was even possible.

“You can handle it,” she purrs as her nails dig into the flesh of my shoulders.

My cock is hard, it’s ready and waiting to be inside of her. Aching, actually. I haven’t fucked this much since I was a kid, since I discovered pussy at the Beasts was free and easy. I went wild for far too long.

Pinkie was one of my favorites. She could go as many times as I could. The bitch never tapped out. Now that I’m older, now that I understand what she was going through, I realize that she was in pain and using sex to mask it, just like Della. Just like me.

Shaking the thoughts of Della and Pinkie from my head, I shift my hips and sink inside of Pamela’s tight pussy. She’s wet, warm, and welcoming. I can’t help but groan at the sensation of her body wrapped around mine.

Fucking perfect every single time.

I honestly don’t think I could ever get tired of the way she feels. I’ve never thought myself an addict. I like booze and weed, dabbled in coke and other shit, but never needed anything the way that I need this, need her cunt.

The euphoria that I feel is beyond anything else I’ve ever encountered. This is something that I could very well become addicted to, if I’m not already.

“Yeah,” I murmur, sweat gathering along my lower back. “I can handle a fuck of a lot when it comes to you, Sunny. Including this sweet cunt.”

“Dylan,” she says, with a hitch of her breath as I slam inside of her.

The first few strokes were easy, but now I’m taking and that’s hard and with purpose. She arches her neck, lifting her hips to meet mine on each stroke, giving just as good as she’s getting, the way she always does. It’s fucking phenomenal.

“Take it, Sunny. Take me.”

She gasps. “Yes,” she hisses through her panting breaths.

I don’t know what else to say, if I do say anything else I’m going to admit my love for her and I’m not ready for that, not at fucking all. Instead,

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