A Family Affair: An Extreme Taboo Anthology - Page 17

“I was scared. I was stupid, thinking about what society would say if they knew our true relationship. The moment you walked out the door, I knew I made a mistake, but I couldn’t go back on it.” The regret in his tone makes me stall all movement. My lungs no longer take in breath when he leans into me, his mouth hovering over mine like I’d fantasized about all those years ago. When I left, it didn’t stop my feelings. They only grew stronger every time I thought of him.

Dad reaches for the locket around my neck and tugs it toward him. Clicking the clasp open, he smiles when he sees what’s inside. The photo of him in his cut, his hair only shoulder length, no beard. A young man in his prime, not a man who had an almost seventeen-year-old daughter.

“Why do you push what’s so right away?”

“Because it’s all kinds of wrong, princess,” he murmurs along my forehead, slowly down my cheek, and when he finally reaches my pouty lips, he presses his mouth to mine. Sparks shoot through me at that moment, my body turning hot and needy at nothing more than a kiss.

I don’t move.

I’m scared if I do, he’ll get spooked by what he’s doing and leave me again, so I allow him to take control of what’s happening. His hands grip my hips, holding me steady as his tongue dips into my mouth, licking and laving at me.

A low groan rumbles in his chest. His body is taut, and my fingers explore those unchartered dips and valleys of his muscled torso. With every touch, with each tender movement, I feel him trembling.

He’s a taut rope, and he’s pulled tight around me. Soon though, he’ll snap, and I wonder what will happen then. Will he walk away again?

Our tongues dance—hungry, unsure, and tentative. His lips are hot against mine, and he tastes of mint and cigarettes. His hands move roughly to my ass, gripping the cheeks hard causing me to whimper into his mouth. The sound is stolen by him. He swallows me whole, and I don’t want to ever come back from this.

“We… We can’t…”

“We can,” I urge, needing him to finish what he started. I roll my hips, hoping he’ll feel my heat, and his groan is the response I needed to pull away and tug off my tank top that’s hindering him from seeing what I’m wearing under.

My bra is sheer, gifting him a glimpse of my hardened rosy nipples. My breasts aren’t huge, a handful at best, but when his gaze lands on the fleshy mounds, I know he appreciates the view.

“Fuck, Rylee,” he moans against my lips, pressing his hips against mine. The hardness behind his zipper nudges my core and I smile at him, giving him a nod because I can’t find words to plead with him.

I crave this. I’ve wanted him for as long as I can remember finding pleasure in my bed at night. He was always the man who made me ache, made me whimper, and he’s always going to be the one in my heart.

“Please, Daddy,” I beg, the words scratchy against my throat as I claw at his neck, tangling my fingers in his long hair. Tugging the strands, I elicit a hiss from his full lips.

“You’re a fucking temptation.”

“And I want you to take me, show me what you couldn’t all those years ago.” Our gazes are locked in a standoff. He wants to refuse me; I can see it in his eyes. He’s wavering on the line. A thin barrier that blurs between right and wrong, between socially acceptable or morally improper.

He moves his left hand, cupping my cheek, his other hand gripping my ass. We’re so close, melding together as if we can get impossibly closer. I want him to be closer, to be inside me. I want to be part of him.

“Please.” My whimper snaps all the restraint he’d been holding onto and his fingers find the thin layer of material covering my core. He plays me like a goddamned instrument.

“Fuck, princess, this is all kinds of wrong and right.” Fire washes over me and I'm burning up at his rough, husky tone. My body is a toy and I love when Daddy plays with it. A mewl tumbles from me, from deep within me, causing another hot grunt from the man before me as he uses his expert fingers to take me to the edge.

I’m so close. I’m almost there, as euphoria settles over me like a blanket, but Dad stops the moment I reach the precipice.

“If we’re doing this, you ain’t comin’ in a pair of fuckin’ yoga pants,” his grin is dark, dangerous. “You’re comin’ on my cock.”

I’m no virgin, but the moment he takes me down the hall to his bedroom, I feel like this is my first time. As if I’m a stranger to pleasure, to men, to naked bodies writhing with desire.

He lifts me in his strong arms, and the moment my hands land on his muscled shoulders, I feel the tension. His body is pulled taut and I realize he must be holding back.

Daddy places me on the mattress, the softness soothing to my heated skin and he stands back, watching me as if I’m the most beautiful object he’s ever laid eyes on. His gaze lit with lust and desire, with love and affection. The emotions swirl together, igniting want inside me that only seems to lick along my insides, turning me molten.

“Open your pretty thighs, princess. I want to see your wet little cunt,” he growls like an animal about to feast which only makes me shiver and I want to beg him to devour me.

I lie back, my legs spread before him. I feel bared to him even though I’m fully clothed. My gaze is locked on him as he shrugs off the cut, then the dark tee. Once he’s shoving his jeans down thick, muscled thighs, I’m met with the body of the man I’ve known all my life.

“You can say no,” he warns.

“I’m saying yes, I’ve always wanted to say yes.”

Chapter 6

Tags: Yolanda Olson Erotic
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