She leaves the table first, smoothing her skirt and glancing every which way as she crosses the restaurant toward the oversized family and handicap bathroom. The way she’s moving, you’d think she just robbed a bank, she looks so guilty. But luckily, nobody else is watching, so only I notice. And I have to admit, there’s something sexy in how flustered she is, how clearly unused to doing things like this she seems, no matter how mature an adult she claims to be.

I have a feeling Tilly is a good girl at heart. A good girl I’m really going to enjoy corrupting.

I watch her slip into the bathroom, way across the restaurant near the windows. Luckily I don’t see any other tables near it. That will help, too, since she clearly has trouble being quiet when she comes. And I intend to make her come again. And again. Until I’m satisfied.

Only after she’s closed the door and a few minutes have passed do I stand up to use the restroom myself. The old lady shoots me a stink eye again, but I just smirk in her direction and head straight for the same door Tilly entered. Let her try and complain. I don’t care if we get thrown out of this place. I need to fuck Tilly, or I’m going to lose my mind.

I rap on the restroom door, just once. Then I turn the handle. Sure enough, like I instructed her too, she left it open.

I slip inside, lock the door behind me, and before she can say a word, I grab her and crush her against me. I kiss her again, hungry, devouring. She goes soft against me, parting her lips, wrapping her arms around the back of my neck. She surrenders, lets me have complete control.

“You were so fucking hot in there,” I whisper once we break apart, both of our breaths coming hard.

She arches a brow. “You’re just lucky I didn’t scream. I almost had to. The way you touch me…”

I wrap my other arm around her waist and pull her tight, lithe little body against mine, drowning her next words in another hard kiss. I walk us backwards until her ass hits the sink. Then I reach down to grip that tight, pert little ass of hers with one hand, and lift her up to poise her on the edge of it. She wraps one leg around my waist, arching up against me so her skirt rides up, and the thin fabric of her panties presses against me. My cock is still rock-hard beneath it, straining at the seams, eager to get inside her.

“This time I intend to make you scream,” I whisper against her mouth.

Her eyes flash to mine, hold on, steady and full of challenge. “I’d like to see you try.”

But first.

I reach into my back pocket and withdraw my wallet. Tucked in is a single emergency condom I keep stashed. I haven’t used this one in far too long. It’s been a while since I had any fun—and it’s been a lifetime since I’ve met a girl as willing and ready and hot to go as Tilly. She’s one of a kind.

As I pull out the condom, Tilly plucks it from my fingers, confident as ever.

“Let me.” She tears into the packet with her teeth. I let her take it and undo my pants. She pushes them down my hips, shoves my boxers after, and unfurls the condom over my length, her fingers moving expertly with the rubber. Where those fingertips graze the sides of my shaft, they feel white hot, soft and smooth. A promise of sensations to come.

“You drive me fucking wild. I can’t get enough of you,” I murmur. As soon as she’s done putting it on me, I grip her hips with my hands, slide one hand up her thigh to push her skirt up around her belly. Then I grab her panties, tug those down to her ankles. She unhooks her legs from around me to let me work the panties off of her.

“Killian…” she whispers.

I position myself at her entrance. Hold her hips tight to steady myself. “I need you, Tilly.”

She holds my gaze, unafraid. “Then take me,” she whispers.

In one easy, desperate thrust, I force myself into her. My cock stretches her walls, spreads her pussy around me, and I can feel her muscles gripping me tight, hard enough that I see sparks behind my eyes, as pleasure floods my system. I drive deep into her, and hold her there for a moment, our gazes locked, as I savor the sight and sensation of filling her completely. “Fuck, you feel incredible,” I hiss.

She wraps her legs back around my waist once more, hooking her ankles together to give herself more grip. At the same time, she reaches up to wrap her arms around my shoulders, which makes it easier for me to grip her ass and angle myself over her. “Fuck me, Killian,” she murmurs, and how could I possibly refuse her.

I pull her up against me, nearly lifting her off the edge of the sink as I start to drive my cock into her, over and over. With each thrust, I hear her breath come faster, feel her body arch up against me, soft and pliable in all the right places. She’s already sensitive. I can tell when I hold her against me with one hand and slide the other around to run my fingertip across her mound, putting slight pressure on her clit.

She gasps and pants, breathy against my cheek. That sound drives me wild.

“Come for me, Tilly,” I whisper to her, fingering her harder as I continue to fuck her.

“Oh god,” she whispers, and I can hear the strain in her throat. “I’m almost there…”

“Come, dirty girl. Come for me. Now.” I say the last word as a command, and at the same time, I thrust into her and press down on her clit.

A cry escapes her throat, and her legs tighten around me, her pussy convulsing around my cock. It nearly sends me over the edge, but I grit my teeth and control myself. Readjust my grip and fuck her harder, faster, losing myself in the pleasure. She arches toward me, angles her hips to grant me better access, surrenders completely to my control.

“Fuck, Killian, yes…” Her voice is getting louder, but neither of us cares now. “Right there, oh god, yes…”

I lose control. I lose track of everything except her. Her body, her moans, her scent, her tight pussy around my cock. I growl in the back of my throat, teeth gritted, as I come deep inside her, pulling her against me, feeling her body shudder and quake with another orgasm even as I finish. I keep fucking her, keep driving into her until every last drop of cum has been drained from me. Only then do I draw back, pull out of her, and glance down to catch the sight of her own juices dribbling down her inner thigh, as she sinks back against the edge of the sink, barely able to stand.

I wrap one arm around her waist, support her until her legs find the floor, and she stands on her own beside me, still breathing hard.

I glance in the mirror. We’re both a mess. Red-faced, our hair wild where we gripped it, our clothes in total disarray. It looks hot as fucking hell, and I can’t get enough of the sight. Especially of her. Knowing I did this to her, I made her lose control, go wild… It does something animalistic to me. Makes me possessive. Hungry for my next fix.

“That was…” Her eyes meet mine. She laughs a little, breathless with disbelief. “Fuck.”

I start to put myself back together, watching her with amusement as she tries to rearrange her skirts around her legs and put her panties back on. “You can say that again.”

She glances toward the doorway again, a guilty flush climbing her neck. “Do you think anyone heard that?” she whispers.

I smirk. Honestly? I think half the restaurant probably did. Still. “How about I go out first and check,” I offer, and she nearly collapses backward against the sink in relief.

“Thank you.”

Outside, sure enough, the few tables nearer the restroom swivel around to stare at me as I exit. I ignore them and stride back to our table, a confident smile on my face. Fake anything long enough, and people will believe it.

A few minutes later, Tilly stumbles out of the bathroom. She managed to smooth her dress and hair so she looks respectable, but she can’t hide the rosy glow in her cheeks, or that overly bright, just-fucked grin on her face. She saunters back to my table and slides into the chair across from me, eyes bright. She clears her throat. “So, uh… where were we…”

“Letting our food get cold,” I reply with a wink, as I dig into my own dish. It is cold by now, but I don’t care. It still tastes surprisingly good. Or maybe anything would, with the taste of Tilly still fresh on my mouth.

All I know is it was worth it. And somehow, despite all the food we finish, by the end of dinner when I signal for the check, I find myself still hungry.

Hungry to claim her again. Hungry to hear those desperate cries of hers, to feel her pussy tighten around me, and her body arch up into mine. I truly cannot get enough of this woman. It should scare me, worry me, but it doesn’t. Somehow, the more I get to know Tilly, the more I think she might be the best thing to happen to me in years.

* * *

We arrive home at 10pm, way past Lina’s bedtime. But the moment I close the front door on the heels of Margie, the nice older woman down who sits for Lina sometimes, I hear footsteps on the staircase. They thunder down the first set, then stop just above the landing. Right where I’d be able to see her. Tilly and I exchange knowing grins.

“Do you hear that?” I ask Tilly in a raised voice, faking concern.

She pretends to gasp in response. “I do. Do you think it’s a…” Her grin widens on the dramatic pause, “monster?”

We both hear a stifled giggle, and eye the staircase. “I think you’re right,” I stage-whisper back to Tilly. “We’d better try and catch it, before it tries to eat Lina.”

The giggling intensifies. Tilly takes the first step toward the stairs. “I’ll go up first,” she says, “and scare it down toward you. But you’ve got to be ready.”

“Okay.” I take off my dinner jacket and stretch it between my hands. “I’ve got the net ready to go.”

“All right. Here I go to catch the monster,” Tilly says, raising her voice. “In three, two…”

Finally, the giggling reaches its peak, and Lina peeks her head out from the landing. “You guys! I’m not a monster.”

Tilly fakes a gasp. “Lina! I could have sworn you sounded just like a Tagglywort,” she says.

Lina wrinkles her nose in doubt. “What’s a Tagglywort?”

I set my dinner jacket aside and join Tilly on the first step, resting a hand at the small of her back. “You’ve never heard of a Tagglywort? What are they teaching you in that school?”

My daughter purses her lips, fairly sure she’s being set up now. “There’s no such thing.”

“Sure there are!” Tilly raises a hand, and begins to tick off her fingers. “They live on staircases, and they steal socks from laundry baskets…”

“And they especially love to bite little girls who stay up past their bedtimes,” I add, taking a step toward Lina and wriggling my fingers.

She squeals and rushes toward Tilly. After colliding with Tilly’s waist, she wraps her arms around the woman’s midsection and hides her face against Tilly’s thigh. “Tell it not to eat me,” she says, voice muffled by Tilly’s skirt.

Tilly steps back and kneels down until she’s eye-level with Lina. “Don’t worry. I know the magic spell to banish a Tagglywort.” She raises both hands in the air and wriggles her fingers. “If you find one chasing you, just go like this and yell, ‘Boo!’”

Lina raises her arms and practices, wiggling her fingers and shouting Boo.

“Perfect.” Tilly winks.

I step forward and catch Lina in my arms, then scoop her up over my shoulder as she squeals. “Now, it’s past time for someone to be in bed.”

“But Daddy, I want to see Princess Tilly,” she protests as I start to climb the stairs.

Tilly trails after us. “How about this?” she says, and when I glance back over my shoulder, she catches my eye. “How about I read you a bedtime story. Then will you be ready to go to sleep?”

I nod, just barely, and I can’t help but flash her a grateful smile, too. I don’t miss how great she is with Lina. Or how in love with her Lina already seems to be.

I know the feeling, kid, I think as we ascend the stairs to Lina’s room. I tuck her under the covers, and then Tilly and I take up spots on either side of her. I don’t say anything. I just watch over the top of Lina’s head as Tilly reads from one of Lina’s favorite picture books. She reads each page with dramatic animation, and by the end of the reading, Lina has her head tucked against Tilly’s arm, and her breathing is a steady, slow rhythm.

Together, we tuck her under the covers, and I plant a quick kiss on her forehead, before we back out of the room, doing our best to remain silent. In the hallway, we pause, face-to-face, and I reach up to cup Tilly’s cheek. “Sorry about that,” I whisper.

She laughs under her breath, shaking her head. “Are you kidding? She’s the cutest.”

But as I grasp her hand and tug her down the hall after me, toward my bedroom, I can’t help but thinking, Tilly is pretty damn adorable herself…