His voice, husky and bossier than he has any right to be.
“Why?” I demand.
“Because I’m going to kick it down.”
“What the fuck?”
I grab the door, pull it open. Glare at him as he stands on the other side of the corridor, as if readying himself to get a runup.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
He glares, eyes blazing. His whole body heaves in time with his beastly breaths. He steps forward, looking at me closely. His eyes scan my face, then my whole body.“What were you doing?” he demands. “Right before I got here.”
How the hell can he read me so easily?
I turn my face away, but I can’t stop the flush from creeping over my neck and face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I murmur.
He surges forward. It’s only been almost a week, but it feels longer when his heat crashes into me. My body responds way too fiercely. I try to remember my Dad. His corpse. The blood.
“You don’t think Daddy can tell?” Rad snarls, grabbing my shoulders and flipping me, pushing me against the wall.
He kicks the door closed with a loud slam and clunk, then grinds his hips against my ass. Letting me feel his manhood pushing through the thin fabric of my PJ shorts.
“I can fucking smell what you were doing,” he moans in my ear, sliding his hand up between my legs. “Now, be a good girl and tell Daddy… what were you thinking about when you were touching your raw, fresh little pussy?”
I grind against him. Can’t help it. My word of the week—conflicted—screams in my head. But in his arms, I just want to do what he says. Feel compelled to in the hottest way.
“Tell. Me.”
His voice deepens when he slides up between my legs, pushing his whole hand against my aching pussy. Cupping it firmly, lifting me slightly off the floor. My mind spins. I close my eyes. “You, Daddy,” I admit breathily. “Just … you.”
“Good girl,” he snarls, tearing down my shorts just enough. His voice is close to my ear, his hot breath teases me. “I took you softly the first time.”
You did?
“But we haven’t got much time, and Daddy’s good little girl needs to learn that sometimes, not often, I’ll need to take you savagely. Need you to get yourself warm and sticky, just like you have now, before I grind in, stretch you and make you come hard with my dick.”
I should yell at him to stop. To get out. Leave me alone. Fuck off! But it feels too good to be insane. Too seductive. Instead, Imoan, arch my back. Lust pounds through me. My conflicted feeling is starting to feel way too hard to deal with. Easier to just succumb. Give in to it— to him. Just fold, and accept the pleasure. And, ohh, the pleasure.
He frees his cock, guides it to my entrance. I look at him over my shoulder. His wild, wide eyes, the hunger in them. His burning hard cock parts my lips, making my whole body sing in lust. The end of his pole kisses my lips as he enters a little. I love his new upright angle.
His entry takes my breath away. I tingle even sweeter. I push the wall away, drop my head, push my butt back hard against his thrusts. Picking up on his rhythm, I look at the floor, let my hair fall. He cannot see my expressions. I’m hidden in my own private ecstasy. Purring quietly to myself while he savages my pussy.
I was already sensitive from touching myself. I was almost sizzling when he pressed the apartment buzzer. Now, I slide back against him. My palms and forearms lean against the wall. I remove my left arm and reach back. I grab his arm and tug him forward. Needing this to not stop.
Never stop. “Harder, Daddy,” I whimper.
“Fuck,” he growls. “You … don’t know … what you’re … asking.”
I bite my lip, nodding. Loving the power I have over him when he’s buried inside me. The daddy who killed my father. “I do,” I moan. “Daddy, harder, please.”
“Fuuuuuuuuuck.”
He grabs my hips, pulls me away from the wall slightly so I’m more bent over, then grinds all the way to his hilt. I push back against him, gasping at the sudden fuller feeling.
He groans and pumps his hips fast. Like a man who couldn’t stop for anything in this world. Not sanity. Not decency. Not even me.
