Filed to story: Falling for My Ex's Mafia Dad Novel Free PDF (Fay Alden & Kent Lippert)
“I’m a therapist, Kent,” I continue. “Or at least, I was training to be. That was my job, until you made me quit and locked me up in your house. Until you made it clear that the only way for me to gain any control over my life was to marry your son or sign your contract. You forced me into this.”
“I forced you to nothing!” Kent hisses, closing the distance between us, his anger alive in him now. “You signed that contract of your own free will, Fay! You ”
“I am more than this!” I shout, surprising myself and him, and the horse with the loudness of my voice, my vehemence.
Kent takes a step back, blinking in surprise. “Fay ”
“No,” I say, stepping forward into the space where Kent fell back, clenching my jaw and staring up at him. “No, Kent you don’t get to talk me out of it. All of this is bullshit that contract is bullshit. It’s just ink on paper none of it means anything, or reflects any part of what’s actually happening between us. All your contracts and your rules and your regulations? It’s all designed to make me feel weak, and to make you feel strong and in charge.”
“It’s designed to privilege me, yes,” Kent snarls down at me, not giving another inch, “because I am the one who has something you need, Fay. And your position is to serve me in exchange for it. With gratitude.” His lip curls, now, with anger, maybe disgust.
“Really, Kent?” I whisper, feeling a sudden burst of courage as I realize the actual truth of the situation. I close the distance between us completely so that my chest is pressed up against his. I allow the line of my body to arrange itself close against him, my stomach curved against his torso, our hips suddenly aligned.
I look up at him, my eyes wide and clear. “Because I think that the situation is actually reversed, Kent,” I murmur, my voice thick with the knowledge of my power. “I think that, actually, I have what you need.”
Kent stares down at me, his breath coming hard now, and then suddenly there’s a shift in him fast, lightning-quick. Just a simple click behind his green eyes, and one final moment of perfect stillness
And then Kent breaks.
A moan rips from him as he grabs me, one arm hard around my waist, crushing me against him as he brings his mouth to mine and claims me. I’m lost in him, instantly, my arms around his body fast, my hands pressing against the hard muscles of his back, wanting him closer wanting him against me, solid, now.
Kent moans again, desperate, his eyes closed as he reaches the hand around my waist lower, dipping below my ass not to grab it, but instead to lift me, bodily, up against him. I cry out against his mouth, shocked and a little frightened at the sudden force of him, but I wrap my legs around his waist, consenting to it, letting him carry me.
He falls forward a little, his footing unsure, almost drunk on the moment, lost in me, and then I feel the wood of the stall’s barrier hit hard against my back, forcing a little gasp from me as the air rushes from my lungs at the impact. Kent pulls back for a moment, checking to see that I’m okay, but I nod to him, fervent, and he brings his face back to mine.
My mouth is open to Kent’s as he kisses me, his tongue warm and desperate against my own. I feel a hard shudder pass through me as he pulls his mouth away, the hard stubble of his cheeks a contrast to the softness of his lips as he tears his mouth across my jaw, down my neck, every movement frantic, rash none of it designed to seduce, all of it feeling as if he can’t not touch every inch of me with his mouth.
Now. Immediately.
“Fuck you, Fay,” he growls against my shoulder, the edges of his teeth pressing harsh against the soft and tender skin of my neck. “God damn it, fuck you.”
I know he’s furious, angry at me for pushing him this far for making him the one to break
But god damn it, I love it. A warm thrill is running through me, from my head to my toes. And despite what I know it will raise in him, how dangerous he can be, I laugh.
I tilt my head back and laugh, reckless, welcoming it.
Because it was all leading to this contracts or not, since the moment he laid eyes on me at the jail. It was all coming to this, no matter how much he pretended. He was never in control.
Kent rips his face up to mine, livid, at the sound of my laugh, his eyes alight with violence, a snarl on his lips. But I can’t wipe the smug smile from my face.
“Well, Kent?” I say, panting, my eyelids low with my want and my self-satisfied joy. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”
And then, with a snarl, he rips me away from the wall and carries me out of the stall.
I don’t know where he takes me, don’t really know how he navigates, because I’ve pulled his face back to mine and I’m kissing him recklessly now, my eyes pressed shut, my own tongue eagerly exploring the contours of his mouth. I press my hips harder against his stomach as he grips my ass in one hand, his other steadily spread across my back as I feel him navigate us up a tight set of curving stairs.
When the light behind my eyes changes, from day-bright to a moody dark, I pull away from Kent, looking around. He’s still moving us briskly forward, the sound of wooden planks echoing under his feet.
“A hay loft?!” I gasp, looking around in wonder. Then a ridiculous laugh bursts from me. “Seriously, a hay loft? Is this some kind of tawdry romance novel ”
“Shut up,” he growls, falling to his knees and bringing me with him.
I comply, bringing my mouth back to his, slower and more deliberate this time as I find myself suddenly in Kent’s lap, my legs still around his waist, in the cool, private dark of this secret space. Kent matches my mouth’s pace, kissing me deeply now, with less frenzy, but no less intent or force.
I feel my breath coming fast now as Kent smooths his hands over the contours of my body, tugging the edges of my shirt so that they come untucked from my tight riding pants. I lean back a little, allowing Kent to pull the shirt up over my head and cast it aside in the hay. As he does, I feel the heft of him hard beneath me, rubbing against my ass. Wanting me.
I bite my lip suddenly, some of my bravado gone.
Kent looks down at my mostly-naked torso and then back up at my face. His expression changes, then, from one of anger and raw need to…something more complicated. I don’t know. I can’t read it.
“Fay,” he says quietly, his voice rough as he brings a hand up to my face. “If you don’t ”
“No,” I murmur, shaking my head and sitting up straighter, bringing my face close to his. “I want to, Kent,” I whisper, my words breath against his lips. I twist one hand behind my back and undo the clasp of my bra, taking a moment to toss it on top of my shirt. I see Kent go still at the sight of me, his hands twitching against the desire to touch my bare flesh, against the restraint he’s practicing.
“I want it,” I say again. “I just…can you show me how? Slowly?”
Kent exhales a long breath then, but not one of exhaustion of long-denied desire finally fulfilled. “Yes, Fay,” he says, his lips brushing mine, and then he seals his mouth against me. I moan into him as he brings one steady hand up to cup my breast, his thumb moving delicately over my nipple. I feel him shudder, then, his cock twitching beneath me.
He shifts, using one hand pressed against my back to balance me as he leans forward, laying me flat out on my back against
I blink, looking to the side, surprised to see a blanket there. I open my mouth to ask but Kent takes his hand from my breast to place a finger softly against my cheek and turn my face back to him. Quickly, he shakes his head and kisses me again.
His message is clear. Questions later. Now, we do this.
Eagerly, I show him that I agree, kissing him hard and tugging his own shirt off of his body and adding it to the growing pile of clothes next to us.
What grows between us, in these moments, is a steady intent. As Kent peels my tight pants from my legs, tugging them off at the ankle, his eyes and face are serious. Mine are as well as I lift my hips, letting him slip my underwear over my bottom and then down over my knees and ankles. When I’m naked before him, he surveys me with cool but…almost solemn eyes.
Like someone looking at a beautiful painting, or…something they’ve lost. Something they never thought they’d see ever again. I’m unnerved by it it’s not something I understand.
“Kent,” I whisper, not able to stand the intensity of that gaze. So I sit up, bringing my face close to his, putting one hand on his chest. But I don’t really know what to say next. So I just stare at him, looking into his eyes, feeling…the magnitude of this thing, building between us.
He stares back at me, at my face, his breathing coming quick now. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Fay,” he whispers to me. My mouth falls open at the raw honesty I hear in his voice.
And I…I can’t bear it.
I close my eyes against his words, not wanting or willing to acknowledge the feelings they raise in me. And so I do the only thing I can think that will bring us back to fair ground, to the old place I know that we’re comfortable.
I slide the hand resting on his chest downward, brushing over the waistline of his pants, lower, until I’m holding his thick cock in my hand. Trembling a little, frightened at the new experience, I move my hand over the fabric, feeling him.
Kent shudders hard, his whole body giving one hard convulsion at my touch.
“Kent,” I whisper, my eyes still closed. “Please. I want you now.”
And then he leans forward, bringing his mouth back to mine as he begins to unbuckle his pants.
Kent pushes his pants downward as he lays me down again on the blanket. I keep my eyes closed, but I can feel him moving his legs, kicking the pants off as he brings his body back to mine. Then, he lays the length of himself down on top of me and my eyes fly open as I feel the new sensation of his skin flush against mine.
As I feel feel…him. All of him, pressed against my hip.