Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
“Mommy?”
“Yes, baby?” She answers breathless. It’s Jameson and thank fuck we’ve taught our kids to always knock first.
“Melanie’s crying.”
I slip out of my wife, pushing her down onto her knees. “Clean me up,” I order in a low voice, then turn my head toward the door. “We’ll be right there, buddy. Go sit with her for a minute, mommy’s just finishing up something in here.”
“Sure,” Jameson answers with irritation. “Just don’t take too long, sometimes you guys take a long time in there.”
Kezia’s mouth wraps around my cock, licking and sucking with her wide eyes looking up.
“I love you, little one.”
She pops my still swollen head from her lips to reply. “I love you too, Daddy.”
“Now finish up, do a good job or you might just get corner time again.”
She crinkles her nose. “Promise?”
I nod. “Promise.”
Volume Four
Ouch, Daddy
DEDICATED TO:
The girls who wondered if their lady
bits were pretty, then found someone
who called them a masterpiece.
PLEASE NOTE this book contains scenes of daddy daughter play.
No one is related here by blood, but they might
play otherwise. Just be warned, I’m not sorry because,
well, playing that fantasy out is hot. If you don’t
agree, this might not be the smutty romp for you.
It’s mostly smut too, fair warning.
Chapter One
Reuben
Coming home is the best and worst part of every day.
It wasn’t always like that, but the last six months have been a horror show.
First, it’s because Winona, my deceased best friend’s daughter, who, for all intents and purposes, I’ve raised for the last six and a half years, has turned into sin incarnate. I want to spend every fucking second of every day near her, but she’s pushing me damn near to a nervous breakdown, parading around the house in just a t-shirt and panties most of the time. No matter how many times I tell her to go put clothes on, she just smiles and does what she wants.
Fucking brat.
But the more she pushes back at me, the harder my dick gets, and at almost forty years old, I’ve never sported a boner bigger, harder, or more deviant in its fantasies than I have the last few months.
But, it’s not just Winona that’s making it hard to come home to the house I built for us four years ago, it’s her mother, too, and for totally different reasons.
Rage-filled and a fan of Diet Coke and Southern Comfort, Catrina thinks the world is her oyster, but expects me to be the one funding her lavish lifestyle.
I take a moment to breathe as I wind up the driveway to the house, scanning the back acreage of the two hundred and sixty that’s my safe haven from the world outside. I bought it to bring some fresh perspective to my foster daughter, and to selfishly give her everything her heart desires in the hope she would never think to look to another man for anything.
My phone buzzes as I pull my Denali into the carport attached to the side of the house next to the door, and Winona’s face appears on the screen with her tongue stuck out. I let her choose her ringtone and the contact image, and little does she know I’ve put that image with her tongue out onto my fucking dick several times a day ever since, imagining what it would feel like to have it licking up my shaft for real.
“Yesssss.” I tap accept on her FaceTime call and squeeze my temples in a silent plea to my already-hardening dick to keep things under control.
“Daddy!” She chirps, and any hope for control sails out the window and disappears on the early Spring Michigan breeze.
“Daughter.” I take a breath, hating myself for playing this little game with her, but knowing I have zero control.
It was her idea to call me Daddy when she was still in pigtails. Her father, my best friend and brother in all ways except blood, was “Dad” to her, and I was around all the fucking time, so she started to tell everyone I was her second father. Then, she branded me with the Daddy title, and there was no fucking turning back.
But since she turned the corner on adulthood, it’s taken on a whole new meaning.
“Joey says you told him to go home for the day. Is that true?” I do my best to glare at her, but when she nods and grins it’s pretty much fucking impossible.
“He was sick, Daddy. Sneezing and coughing. He needs to rest.”
I grunt in reply.
Only fucking bodyguard in the world who takes orders from the eighteen-year-old girl he’s supposed to be protecting. Well, bodyguard is stretching it. Joey used to work security at my construction company, until I needed someone to drive my little girl to school and back. He’s the only motherfucker in the world I trust with her, because he’s both enormous and intimidating, and when it comes to romantic interest, he’s a man’s man if you know what I mean.