Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Come for me, sweetheart,” I say, voice low and brutal. “Let Daddy taste it. Come on my face like the little whore you are.”
That’s all it takes. She bucks, hard, her heels drumming against my back as her pussy spasms around my tongue. I lap up everything, greedy, not letting a drop escape. She screams, the sound muffled by my cock, and then suddenly her throat clamps down and she’s coming again, a second wave that triggers my own release.
“Fuck!” I roar as her throat pulses, milking me of creamy goodness. “Shit shit shit!”
I explode, hot and thick, jets of sperm flooding her mouth and throat. She gags a little, but she doesn’t stop—she swallows, gulping, savoring every drop, her cheeks stained with tears and saliva. She keeps sucking, even as I twitch and spasm, her lips locked around the head, draining me dry.
“God, yes,” I groan, hips jerking with each pulse. “Such a filthy little cocksucker. You’re perfect, baby. You’re nothing but a wet piece of pussy who loves being Daddy’s cockholster.”
She moans, loving the dirty talk, and finally lets me slip free. There’s a string of semen connecting her lips to the tip of my cock, and she licks it away, eyes bright and dazed before coughing because her throat is dry.
“Fuck,” I groan, my tip still dribbling as I press another kiss to her wet pussy. “Goddamn.”
Slowly, I invert Mary Kate again so that she’s right-side up. She lies back on the bench, her curves ivory and gleaming, her pussy wet and ravaged. I collapse next to her on the bench, chest heaving, the world spinning from heat and sex and the overwhelming reality of what just happened.
For a long moment, we say nothing. The vent hisses, the wood creaks, and our bodies steam in the thick air. I rest my hand on the curve of her hip, thumb tracing lazy circles on her skin.
She rolls onto her side, hair plastered to her cheeks, and kisses me, cum and sweat and all.
When she pulls away, she whispers, “Did I do well, Daddy?”
Her voice is so innocent and sweet that I almost lose it again. I pull her chin to me, and kiss her deep.
“You were perfect, sweetheart. So slutty and nasty with your filthy mouth and horny pussy. You’re definitely Daddy’s favorite girl.”
She blushes at the praise.
“Good, because I love it when you take control, Daddy. I love being yours and letting you use my body to make yourself feel good.”
I stare at her, at the perfect pink flush on her big breasts, the glisten of her wet cunt, the aftershock of pleasure still making her thighs twitch. I think about the truth lodged behind my ribs: that despite her sexy appearance, this girl is still a virgin. That I will be the first, and the last, and the only.
That nothing in my life has ever tasted so sweet.
I pull her into my arms, let her melt against me, and stare up at the sauna ceiling. The thought circles in my brain, carving new channels of want and intent.
She’s mine.
And next time, I’m going to ruin her.
12
WHY DOES MY STEPDAUGHTER STILL HAVE HER V-CARD?
KENT
The house is silent except for the sizzle of bacon and the hiss of the espresso maker. I stand at the kitchen island, shirtless, in the gray sweatpants I use for lounging, staring blankly at a row of crystal clear glasses. The island itself is a slab of black stone, ice-cold even under the morning’s lazy sunlight. The coffee brews slow, cycling a thin coil of steam up to the vent hood and filling the air with a smell so dark it’s almost charred. There’s a line of half-emptied mugs by the sink, evidence of last night’s nerves, but I leave them; I like the clutter, the after-image of human need.
The bacon crisps, curling at the edges. I press it flat with the spatula, resisting the urge to poke at my phone, to check for messages like a tween, to look for something to puncture the silence.
After all, my discovery last night was big. Big, big. My sweet and sassy stepdaughter is a virgin, of all things, and never in a million years would I have guessed it. How the hell does that even happen? She’s so fucking beautiful, and so fucking ripe too, with big breasts, a narrow waist, and a sweet smile. Hell, I’ve been keeping my distance for years now, knowing that Mary Kate was likely being wined and dined by other men. Maybe they were douchebags, but surely, they weren’t so spineless that they never asked to enjoy her curves. Hell, what kind of so-called “man” doesn’t get laid at the end of a date?
There’s a small sound in the hallway, then the tap of bare feet on tile. The sweet girl I’ve been obsessing about enters like a ghost and a dare: Mary Kate, wrapped in a threadbare t-shirt and pink panties, her blonde hair unbrushed and down to her shoulder blades, eyes still sleepy. She’s so beautiful it makes me want to look away. She doesn’t look at me first—she looks at the window, at the sun coming out in the yard, at the nothing beyond. But she feels me watching her, and when our eyes finally meet, the heat of attraction sparks between us.