Chapter 275

Oh my Gods, I swear in my mind, realizing I’m about to railed against a tree.

I guess this race really didn’t have any losers.

Archer holds up his hand for me. As if in a trance, I walk toward him and then place my hand in his. His fingers curl around the back of my palm. He tugs me closer, then brings my hand up to his lips, and sensually kisses every single knuckle.

It’s not like him to be this soft. I half wonder if this is the apology before he goes wild here in forest. He didn’t say ‘Make love against the tree.’ He specifically used the word fuck.

With Archer, that’s guaranteed to be wild.

Archer then guides me deeper into the forest, not enough to totally hide our view of the road, but well enough to obscure us from any passersby.

“You are going to have to be quiet,” he says. He walks around, inspecting the trees. He stops at an older tree with a thick trunk. He grabs me and press me into it, so that my back aligns with the bark. “Do you think you can do that or should I gag you?”

I maybe could be quiet if I tried hard enough. But who the hell wants to do that, when the alternative is to be gagged?

I tilt my head back, letting it rest against the tree. I look up at him through my lashes. He can see my answer there, I can tell by the way he smirks a little.

“My slut doesn’t know how to be quiet, does she? She only knows how to moan like the desperate whore she is.” Archer asks, his voice dipping lower. “Don’t worry. Daddy will take care of you.”

I worry my bottom lip with my teeth a moment, before saying, “Thank you, Daddy.”

Archer reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handkerchief. Did he always carry that? Or had he specifically planned for this moment?

Maybe wanting my directions around the neighborhood wasn’t the only reason he argued to get me out of the house.

“Since you will be unable to talk, our safe words won’t work,” he says.

I nod. I’m okay with that.

He, however, is not. “Three fast taps on my shoulder if you need me to stop. Do you understand?”

I nod, ready to get on with it.

“Chloe,” he says, breaking character. Which is how I know he’s dead serious about this.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good girl,” Archer says. “Open.”

I open my mouth and he wraps the handkerchief around my head. It dips into my mouth so much I can bite down on it. I try to say something to test it and it comes out muffled.

“Good,” Archer says, and I’m inclined to agree.

Suddenly, good-guy Archer is gone and Daddy has replaced him. He grabs my hands and pins them above my head.

“Stay,” he commands. I obey, keeping my hands pressed against the bark above my head as his hands trail down my sides. When he reaches the bottom hem of my shirt, he slowly tugs it up and up and over my arms. He tosses it down into the grass. My bra quickly follows suit. “Fucking perfect tits,” he growls and takes them in hand.

He massages my tits, slashing over my nipples with the pads of his thumbs. My nipples are already peaked and sensitive. I moan but the handkerchief hides most of it.

“My slut already trying to be loud,” Archer says. “We’re just getting started.”

He drops to his knees and my breath hitches.

With deft fingers, he unbuttons my shorts and tugs them down, down, down my legs. He leaves my panties on for now, much to my frustration.

Then he leans forward and nuzzles my pussy through my panties. He licks and laps through the fabric, which I have now come to hate with every fiber of my being.

Gods, maybe Beau is onto something. Maybe I should wear lingerie all the time, in anticipation of having it taken off. If I had been wearing those panties Beau had bought me, Archer would have still lapped at my exposed pussy. Those panties covered me with only a tiny little string.

When I get home, I’ll throw out all my panties and buy nothing but thongs from now on. Mark my words.

Archer tortures me for only a moment more, before he hooks his fingers under the waistband of my panties and yanks them down. At his direction, I step out of them and my shorts. Both get tossed aside.

Archer doesn’t give me much time. He grabs my ankle and yanks my leg over his shoulder. That’s all the warning I get before he dives into my pussy, tongue first.

I throw my head back. I arch forward. My damp tits tingle in the cool evening air.

Gods, I’m going to lose my mind.

I try to cry Daddy! But the handkerchief swallows it all.

Archer still smiles against me. “What’s the matter, baby? Daddy driving you wild?”

Gods, yes!

I’m so lost in pleasure that I lose myself for a moment. I lower my hands and push them through his hair. He immediately stops. He lowers my leg back down to the ground and pulls back.

Oh, shit! Oh, no!

I try to apologize, but I can’t speak. To show I’m sorry, I lift my hands back to where they were.

Archer frowns as he stands. I whine and whimper, disappointed.

“Good girls get their pussies eaten,” Archer says. “Since you are a bad girl, you get fucked instead, at a pace Daddy sets.”

Okay, yeah. I’m fine with that too.

Archer removes his shirt, then kicks off his pants and boxer briefs. He’s holding a condom he must have had in his pocket. He really was prepared. He slides it on his rock hard, aching dick.

As he steps toward me, I widen my stance, inviting. He grabs me by my ass and lifts me high against the tree. Immediately I wrap my legs around him.

“Put your hands on my shoulders,” he growls. I obey. “Hold on.” I do.

He reaches into the minimal space between us, just enough to line up his dick, then he bucks into me all the way to the hilt.

I cry out, suddenly feeling so full.

He gives me a second to catch my breath and adjust. All the while he watches my face. When my features start to relax, he pulls almost all the way out and bucks forward again. It presses me up against the tree. The bark bites into my back. It might hurt, by my healing ability heals it before I can take notice.

Soon, he’s found a fast paced rhythm, pulling out before thrusting all the way back in. In and out. The drag feels so good, especially as he repositions and begins to hit that tender spot inside of me. Gods, he hits it again and again, like it’s got a bullseye painted on it that only his dick can see.

I’m moaning and begging and whimpering. It’s all muffled under the handkerchief.

“Feel good, slut? No one can give it to you like Daddy can, can they?” he grunts each word with a thrust. I hold on, barely comprehending his words. I’m too far gone, lost to my building pleasure. “You’re a whore, but you’re Daddy’s whore. Fuck. Yes. Chloe, fuck!”

We hit the edge at the same time and topple over together, clinging onto each other. His fingers dig into my ass so hard I’m sure I’m bruising. Just as I’m sure, my nails are biting into his back hard enough to draw blood.

Neither of us seem to mind. I know I sure as hell don’t.

I collapse over the edge of my climax and straight into blissed out pleasure.

Archer pushes forward crushing me into the tree. We’re both panting, looking at each other.

He starts to smile.

But then we hear a car. He covers me with his body as the car drives by. We should be covered by the tree. At least, until Archer leans over to look.

His face is troubled.

I want to ask why, but I’m still gagged.

He can tell what I want to ask.

“That was my father’s car.”