I work the cloth between her legs, washing her sore pussy with careful, gentle swipes. She lets out a soft moan, hips shifting, making the water ripple around us. I wash her legs, her ankles, her feet, then slowly return between her spread thighs. I let my hand rest between her legs, just holding her. Soothing and claiming at the same time.
Her skin is flushed a deeper shade of pink now, probably from the water and my ministrations.
“You’re so beautiful, Cammie,” I say, kissing her neck. I trace the outer swell of her breast with my free hand, watching her skin pebble under my touch. I feel like I’m sinking underwater, losing myself to this obsession, and I don’t care. I never want to surface.
“This feels like a dream,” she says in a soft voice, and I cup her chin, turning her face towards mine.
“I know what you mean, sweetheart. But it’s not.” I drag my thumb across her pouty bottom lip. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
She leans into my touch, so sweetly submissive that my cock swells even more.
“But…what if someone finds out? It’ll ruin your reputation. It’ll be a scandal. I used to be your stepdaughter and now we’re…I’m…”
“Now you’re mine.” I rub her pussy and pinch her nipple, reminding her subtly that I’m in charge. “If the truth comes out before we’re ready, I’ll deal with it. But for now, it’s just us. Our little secret.” I don’t want her to be a secret. I want the world to know she’s mine. But right now, I know that this promise of secrecy is what she needs, and I’ll always give my girl what she needs. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll keep it quiet. For now.”
She moans, pushing into my touch. “Oh, Daddy,” she sighs. “You make it sound so easy. So simple.”
I roll her nipple between my fingers. “Because it is. I’m not letting you go. Ever. You’re mine, Cammie. You’re Daddy’s girl now, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she moans, arching up to kiss me. Her tongue is bolder, more confident than last night, and we kiss and kiss, unhurried, savoring, luxuriating. When we break apart, she reaches for the discarded washcloth, lathers it up with more soap, and starts working it in soothing circles over my chest.
She washes me slowly, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she focuses on her task. She glides the wash cloth over my shoulders, down my arms, across my chest, teasing it over my nipples. The corner of my mouth quirks up in a smile. God, I would let this woman do anything to me. Anything, as long as it meant she was mine, and I was hers.
She slips the cloth lower, dragging it over my stomach. I groan when she wraps it around my cock, stroking me as she washes me.
“That feels good, sweetheart,” I say, my voice a deep rumble.
“I like taking care of you,” she says, slipping the cloth down to my balls and washing them with gentle care. Water sloshes against the side of the tub as she shifts, her eyes fixed on where her hands are wrapped around me.
I can’t remember the last time I felt so cared for. I can’t remember the last time someone touched me like this, with tenderness and reverence and sweetness.
I don’t think anyone ever has.
My heart becomes a wild, untamed thing in my chest, hammering fiercely against my ribs, and I reach for her, pulling her close. I need to feel her skin pressed against mine. I need her.
I need her.
She moans quietly as my hard cock presses into the softness of her stomach, and I claim her mouth in a slow, deep kiss, needing the connection. Needing to taste her. She moans again as our tongues slide together, her hand still wrapped around my dick. She strokes me with maddening slowness, the slide of her palm driving me wild. I groan, my hips lifting instinctively as I chase her touch. Her thumb swipes over the head of my cock, and I can feel my resolve not to fuck her again this morning unraveling. Fast. And from the way her hips are starting to writhe as she jacks my cock and sucks on my tongue, I think she’s on the same page.
I growl against her lips and kiss her harder, deeper, passion sweeping through me like a storm. I spear my fingers into her hair, holding her in place as I fuck her mouth with my tongue, making silent, dirty promises about all the things I’m going to do to her.
“Daddy,” she whimpers against my mouth, and I feel completely unhinged. If she asked me to burn down an entire city for her right now, I’d do it.
“Mr. Brooks? Are you home?” The female voice cuts through the haze of lust like a hot knife through butter.
Twelve
Jacob
Camryn freezes, her hand stilling on my cock, her eyes wide. She’s panic personified.
“Who is that?” she whispers, chest rising and falling rapidly.
“My part-time housekeeper, Maria. She normally comes on Mondays and Thursdays, but she was off last week.”
“Shit!” she squeaks, scrambling out of the tub so fast that water sloshes over the edge, landing on the floor with a wet splat. She snatches a towel from the nearby rack and bolts for the door, leaving a trail of soggy footprints in her wake. I can’t help but chuckle at how adorably flustered she is as she books it back to her room, wet hair streaming behind her. She’s so fucking sweet that it makes my chest hurt.
My head thunks back against the edge of the tub, and I reach down, giving my pent-up balls a tug, thumb tracing down the seam. My cock jerks in response, ready to go. I give another tug, sharper this time, and the worst of the ache starts to fade, enough that I no longer feel like I’m swimming in a haze of lust.
