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Marked by Pappy

123

Mom married Pappy's son, Herald, when I was ten. Then our merged family, including my older step-brother, Able, moved to Texas. The minute I first stepped out onto the dusty soil of Pappy's stud ranch, smelled horses, and met the old man—I fell in love with the place. Maybe even him.

It didn't take long to find out Pappy's tack room in the second barn was always locked. There'd been times Able and I had wanted to steal a peek inside, but I respected Pappy too much to piss him off—he had a soft heart, but a temper that ran hotter than the Texas sun in August. All in all, Able eventually tried to pick the lock without me. When Pappy caught him...let's just say I was glad I hadn't participated. Able was banned from the stables by his own grandpa.

Pappy always watched me closely, even while I mucked stalls. He protected me, guided me, taught me, bolstered my confidence around large animals. He was the wisest, smartest, toughest man alive, and even now, looked like a weathered forty even though he was over sixty.

In my early teens he'd stand behind me to make sure I didn't fall when I climbed round-pen rails and curiously watched stallions hook mares. He'd whisper close to my ear and explain things as the mating happened. His raspy southern accent would lower by octaves until I was straining back against his chest to hear him, the area between my legs warming at the change in his voice. I liked that heat I felt, and how his peppermint breath always stirred the wispy baby-blond hairs around my neck. He sucked on mint drops from sunup to sundown.

Mom and Herald knew I loved the ranch, and that I one day wanted to run it for Pappy unlike Able, who resented my relationship with the old man. When I was seventeen, both parents were enraged when I refused to plan for college. Pappy took up my defense. He'd said I could move in with him after I graduated high school. If I proved myself, I'd have an inheritance.

Now, the night of my eighteenth birthday, I made the last rounds in the second barn. Yup, the tack room was still locked. Tomorrow was my graduation ceremony, but I planned on being here in the morning to learn the summertime feeding routine before I left to collect my diploma.

Peering into the horse's stalls at the water levels, I noticed the damn trough that still had a broken auto-fill sensor needed to be topped off. I headed for the nearest bucket, started filling it.

I was eighteen now, had never been kissed let alone had a boyfriend. Pappy always complimented my blond hair and big green eyes, but said that boyfriends were distractions. I needed to focus on taking over the family business.

Anyhow, I was about to pour the last bucket of water into the trough, when Pappy walked confidently into the open space between the two rows of eight stalls on either side of me.

"You're a damn hard worker, Amy." He sounded impressed. It was hard to impress him.

I poured the water without looking or responding, feeling his eyes on me. As usual. But I liked that he cared. I hadn't ever been truly hurt out here, other than minor bruises and bumps, all because he took the time to teach me how to handle myself. I'd grown a steely spine as a result.

"Don't you think you should be celebratin' your birthday?" he asked, his Texas drawl like warm caramel to my Californian ears. Again, as usual, he sucked on a peppermint drop.

"But I am, Pappy. No other place I'd rather be." I finally turned to face him, taking in the rough growth along his sharp jaw, speckled with gray. He had to shave every morning, no doubt.

The older man that I'd worshiped for years still had a full head of hair. I always coyly joked he should stop wearing his cowboy hat to show it off. The spots that weren't ashy were almost black. His lean body was solid and broader than most men his age. He still seemed like the most powerful man on earth to me. I'd seen pictures of him younger. He'd have put the mid-century actor, Montgomery Cliff, to shame.

"No other place, huh?" His thick ashy eyebrows rose. "No boy you'd rather be with? Billy, Pete or Buck not appealin' enough for you?"

I laughed at him mentioning his stable boys. I walked up to Pappy with the empty bucket in my hand and a humorous sparkle in my eyes.

"Damn, you're beautiful." That silver gaze kept roving over my denim jeans and t-shirt.

I couldn't explain the sudden heat that made my cheeks feel freshly shucked. Or the sudden spear of something I didn't know about, a moisture that pooled between my legs that only happened when Pappy was around. My body was alive with restless energy.

"You know I don't play with boys, Pappy," I nervously huffed, shifting on my feet.

"Cuz you're such a focused girl, Amy." His pale silver eyes met mine, those pupils large and making him look like he could rearrange the earth's gravitational pull, they were so heavy. "You straighten out...the female issues...?"

I lightly laughed again at the discomfort in his voice, reaching forward to squeeze his hand. "About a month ago. The doctor gave me a prescription." Up until I'd been on birth control, my periods and moods had been shaky. The leveling of my hormones helped a lot.

The hand I held in mine stiffened while he looked down, into me. I was so close to him, I felt the heat from his body as well as his wisdom, his life experience, streaming into my eyes.

"What kind of prescription, hon?"

"The kind that makes women..." My cheeks were going to set fire to the hay loft.

"Birth control?" he supplied.

I nodded, tucking my lower lip between my teeth, anxious. He was stubborn, always said my generation didn't have any work ethic, that we took too many pills and didn't know about consequences. Maybe that's why I tried to impress, gain his approval. I wanted to be worthy, another reason I didn't dally with boys. Well that, and the fact he provided a high standard.

"That changes things," he mumbled, but clearly enough for me to hear.

I lifted the bucket to signal I had to put it away, moved to pull my other hand from his grip. But he didn't let me go, and I immediately met his gaze in surprise.

"Tonight's special, Amy. You're eighteen now." Those silver eyes turned into smoldering coals. "And I want to give you somethin', which is why I'm out here."

The first thought that came to mind was the tack room. I hesitantly glanced at the locked door behind me, located square underneath the hay loft, then back at him.

"Yup. You got it right," he stated, low and sultry. "Before I let you inside, you need to agree to somethin'."

I saw the heat in his gaze, how the wrinkles tensed around his full lips. His expression enflamed the heat between my legs into a full wildfire. It was the same reaction I'd had when he explained how the stallion's 'cock' entered the mare's 'sweet spot' and he left a 'gift' behind.

"What?" I hated the breathless quality in my voice. I sounded weak, indecisive.

He kept his hold on my free hand and leaned in close, his scent so rugged. Like salt and leather and crisp soap. And peppermint. He might've been old, but he smelled virile as a stallion. "You won't tell anybody what happens behind that door."

I shook my head, swallowing hard. I dropped the bucket, the metal handle ringing as it hit the plastic. I jumped at the sound. "Don't you mean don't tell anybody what I see?"

"That too," he smiled softly, his other work-roughened hand slowly reaching up and cupping my cheek. "Just don't tell about—what happens, what you see, or what you feel."

"Okay," I breathed out, wondering if my limbs would vibrate right off my body. Dang.

This wasn't supposed to—I shouldn't be feeling so...alert or aware of myself. Not around Pappy. He was the man I admired most. Without another word, he led us to the door. His free hand reached into his Levis and took a single key from a back pocket.

When I walked into the room in front of him, I took in the cozy smell of old leather and jasmine. There was a bouquet of my favorite flower in a vase on the small desk to my left on top of what looked like a closed book. The financials, no doubt.

"You got me jasmine," I whispered, touched. Most days he was gruff, had a sandpaper-personality. I was surprised a man so full of grit and abrasive qualities could be so considerate.

My gaze wandered over the hooks on the walls, the plethora of prize-bridles he'd won before I was born, decades ago. What surprised me most was the double bed set low on a flat wooden frame in the corner to my right, with built-in bookshelves that extended up to the eight foot high ceiling. There was enough space in here for a small party.

"You sleep in here sometimes?" I asked, turning to him as he locked the deadbolt.

That was odd. For some reason the area between my legs moistened more. Maybe in response to the whole atmosphere. Pappy had prepared the room for its reveal, and this showed me he cared. No matter how hard he pushed me to get tougher around horses, he loved me.

He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at me through hooded lids. "Temperpedics are good for the sore joints and all."

"Translation: You don't want people to know that you're getting old? This mattress has to be brand spanking new because the mice haven't eaten it yet."

He laughed at my practical comment, a hardy sound that came from his chest. "Yeah. But there's somethin' else I do in here. It's the reason there're jasmine on the desk, on a regular special order with the florist. There's always jasmine in here."

"You know they're my favorite..."

"You're my favorite, Amy." He pointed to his bulging crotch.

I didn't understand. "Pappy?"

In an instant his chest was flush with mine, that peppermint breath panting down, his hands grasping my waist. Those full lips surrounded by wrinkles and age were on mine, pressing, pushing for something. This was my first kiss. I was innocent and he knew that, even though a kiss was hard to deny. I tried to open my mouth to speak, but his tongue filled my orifice.

And then I realized. He wanted to mount me. Like a stallion ready to fill his mare with that 'gift' Pappy always talked to me about. He'd also called it sap, sticky juice, baby batter.

He finally lifted his head, piercing me with pale eyes. "I'm the stallion, darlin'."

"And I'm the mare?" I tried to sound cheeky, sassy. Like I knew what to expect or what was going on. All that occurred to me in the moment was that I felt alive, livened. My veins pumped fire. A strike of adrenaline spiked the bottom of my stomach, then I looked up at him with clueless eyes.

"I'll show you. Just like I talked you through watchin' all those breedin's, I'll talk you through this." He stepped back, turned towards the bed. "You're legal now. It's okay for us."

Fear overtook me the moment I felt his warmth disappear. "Pappy..."

His arms returned to embrace me in my budding panic. "Sit down on the bed, sweetie. Come on, Pappy'll give you your gift over here. I'm going to take my time, though."

He guided me over, sat next to me on the mattress and on top of the clean brown comforter, one arm remaining around my shoulders while the other did short work with my waistband. In an instant his rough fingertips rested at the top of my panties, flat on my abdomen.

"I'm gonna twinkle you, sweetie." He put his forehead to my temple and scented me like a horse sizing up a new handler. "Mmm, your smell is strong."

"Twinkle?"

"That's going to be our code for this." His tone was firm, but I could tell by how tense he was, that he really wanted whatever was about to happen, to happen. "I'm gonna twinkle you. Lay back, let's take off your pants and panties."

I helped him slide my jeans and white cotton bikini-cut underwear from around my ankles, feeling naughty but needing his touch. Somehow I knew he could help relieve me of my ache, the moisture, the budding burn between my legs. Pappy had filled all the male roles I'd been missing in my life for the past eight years. Not even his son Herald or my real, worthless dad would compare.

I wanted Pappy's fingers like I wanted candy—I knew it was bad, but craved it anyway.

"Under the covers," he urged, shifting to draw back the comforter and top sheet.

I moved to do his bidding, paused once I'd gotten underneath out of confusion. Shouldn't I be naked? Everything I'd heard about bedtime with men involved flesh. And wasn't this wrong? It was incestuous. I wanted Pappy to give me...what I needed, whatever that was. Which wasn't normal, was it? I didn't know about any of this. The sheets trembled over my half-bare body when I finally glanced up.

He'd been watching me. "Take the shirt and bra off, too, darlin'."

"What about you, Pappy?" I asked, even while I rushed to do his bidding. My nipples were already pebbled, and a surge of absolute heat rushed my cheeks when I finally lay bare. He stood over the side of the bed and took in the sight. "Is this wrong?"

"No, sweetie. It's all kinds of right. As for me? Tomorrow. If you like bein' twinkled tonight, we'll come back tomorrow. Makin' you feel good is your gift for now."

"Okay."

So he lowered himself next to me fully clothed, his body vibrating tension, as he rested on his side and faced me. He supported his head with one arm and a pillow. I liked how he felt next to me, how his plain undershirt seeped heat into my skin closest to him.

"You don't need to do anythin'. Just be yourself, Amy. It'll come natural," he breathed out, looking at my body like the sight of it was his present. "Twinkling is a form of love. And I'm gonna love you right now."

In an instant his free hand lowered, skirting the valley between my exposed breasts, then flattening over my abdomen, and dipping lower. Lower.

The moment his thumb circled over what felt like a nerve bed at the apex of my legs, his mouth hungrily took in one of my nipples. Sucked on it. Hard. I arched upward as the spike of pleasure shot through. The movement caused friction where his fingers worked down below.

"Mmm, you like this, too," he said, between alternating from one nipple to the other. "You like it when Pappy touches you. You're already wet for me."

"Yessss," I hissed, feeling his special touch slide into my girly folds.

Pappy played. He suckled my flesh, my moisture pooling where he spent most of his attention. "Wanted to twinkle you for sooo long, Amy. But it was wrong. I couldn't do this for you before you came of age. Pappy wants to mount this." He shoved his forefinger into my vagina but stopped when I gasped.

There was something blocking him from sliding it deeper. "Sorry, Pappy."

"No, sweetie, it's your hymen. I like that it's there, even though you've ridden your fair share of saddles," he cooed with his deep drawl, sounding pleased. "I'll be the first in this."

My pelvis moved on its own accord in reaction to his whispers and expert fingers. I knew something was building towards an end inside of me. I whimpered, I cried, I sounded weak. But in the end, when Pappy twinkled my whole body into shaking quivers, I let go of all thought.

A burst of pleasure I hadn't ever experienced before shuddered my insides.

"That's it, sweetie. Good little girl. Goooood girl. Twinkle for me. Mmmm." Pappy sounded so calm while he shook with me, ground his fully clothed crotch into my thigh and stuck his finger as deep as it would go. "You liked that?"

"Yes," I whispered, knowing what we were doing was wrong.

The wrinkles around his lips shifted as he frowned. "Both of us liked it. There's nothin' to be ashamed of. Pappy is showin' you how much he loves you, that's all."

His fingers trebled my wet flesh, nursing me into a euphoric slumber. I awoke with a start, to the feel of lips on my ear and fingers down there again. In a minute he had me exploding in his hold again, shaking and crying out 'Pappy' in shuddering breaths. This time, afterwards, he pulled his jeans down and his cock sprang out while he faced me on his side, stroked his genitals with his hand. I watched with wide, innocent eyes. Recognizing that I was aroused.

"Gonna give you a little gift, sweetie. I'll help rub this baby batter onto your tummy, okay?" His voice was strained, but I couldn't drag my attention from the tip of his cock, all red and bulbous. It had a little hole and a creamy juice dripped out the harder he worked the sizable length of his shaft.

His breathing changed. Became harsher, catchy, as his hand moved faster. Faster. Now that I recognized the feel of arousal in my body, watching him get so close to finding the same pleasure made me heat up with anticipation. He gripped his cock and pumped. So fast.

Both his legs trapped one of mine, his hand stroking furiously. He let out a grunt, then a moan. And then a stream of baby batter jetted out as he grunted again, in obvious pleasure. The same I'd found. The liquid lashed out, covering the skin on my abdomen. When Pappy stopped stroking, he started rubbing the sticky thickness into my skin.

"There you go," he whispered, working his delivery into my pores. "You're marked, Amy. You're mine now. Tomorrow night I'll show you more."

*****

"There's somethin' different about you, Amy," Buck said, confused, while I handed him a round of wormers to be shoved down the throats of three unsuspecting stallions as they ate. "You find a boy to give it to you finally?"

Hell, none of my friends from school had commented during the graduation ceremony this morning. Hmm, but Buck worked with me daily and despite being a cute brunette with sparkly blue eyes, his most remarkable quality was his ability to observe people and horses.

"Don't you know by now, Buck?" I cast a more-confident-than-I-really-was expression his way, glancing casually at the main office door. Pappy wasn't around.

"Know what?" he asked, falling into my trap like a trooper.

I quirked a brow up high on my forehead. "I need a man, not a boy."

"Ha!" he slapped his knee and winked. "Who brought a spitfire like you down?"

"No one, asshole. Get to work." I had to finish my chores before the afternoon ended.

That night, exhausted and covered in dust from a hard day, Pappy walked down and met me at the tack room door. He'd just finished a shower, judging by his damp marbled hair and the scent of musky masculine soap. His knowing smile was enough to make my cheeks color.

"Ready, sweetie?" he asked, unlocking the deadbolt.

"I need to wash up at the house first, Pappy."

"Always so practical," he chuckled, leading me in, turning on the light, and twisting the lock. "You didn't see the bathroom last night?" He pointed to a small door farther inside, past the full bed. "Strip down, and I'll watch you wash up."

He made me keep the little curved sliding door to the corner shower open while he sat on the toilet lid and took in the sight of me washing.

"You looked pretty in your graduation gown, sweetie. Made me want to twinkle you the whole time." His southern drawl came out strong over the sound of running water.

I paused while cleaning between my legs. "You haven't spared me a glance all day."

"Only because the boys'd clue in on what I'm doin' with you, darlin'." His silver eyes held humor. Heat. Gravity, as he looked straight into my gaze.

My nipples puckered, the area between my legs sparked with sensual awareness.

"Finish up. Come on, be quick, sweetie." Pappy rubbed his crotch and shifted.

By the time I turned the water off, he'd gotten a towel and held it wide for me. I stepped into it, felt the ends and his strong arms wrap me up tight from behind. "Thank you, Pappy."

"Anythin' for my little girl." He rubbed his crotch against my rear end, making me feel how hard his cock was.

123
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