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)
Mine. Fucking mine. I licked it, it’s fucking mine.
We’re over the edge and on our way to hell, but there’s no stopping this now. I’ve gotten my first taste of the strongest drug on the fucking planet, my daughter’s pussy.
“It’s stuck.” She winces, wiggling and jerking at the tab on my zipper, but the pressure from my swollen, ten-inch battering ram is fighting back. The sight of her on her knees, pink, flushed, and wearing nothing but that now see-through t-shirt and some sort of thin bra underneath, is making it hard not to fucking pass out.
“Sometimes you have to work for what you want, baby. I like to see you struggle a little.”
She smirks, and as much as my dick wants inside that sweet cunt, my heart is as entrenched in this as any other part of me.
I fucking love this girl. I have since she was a baby, but now, this last year, all those paternal feelings have morphed into a hellfire lust that will likely be my demise.
“You’re grinding my self-control into dust.” My fingers fist in her jet-black hair, her sweet and savory scent on my breath as I reach down to help her with my cock, but the unfamiliar sound of a notification pinging her phone from somewhere behind us drags my attention away.
I turn in the direction of the sound, her hands frozen on my crotch.
“Oh, I’ll turn it off, I forgot—”
I flick my gaze back to her, snatching her wrist in a hard grip before she can step away. Her already-pinked cheeks turn crimson, and I know this girl as well as I know myself, well enough to know something is off. Her plump lips press into a tight line, her throat moving as she swallows, and she won’t quite keep her eyes on mine.
“Where’s your phone, princess?” I scan the stage, and before she can answer, I see it propped on a stool off to the side, a can of Diet Coke behind it, holding it up. “You recording yourself?” I ask as another notification pings, then another.
I know her, and I know her fucking phone like it’s my own, because I set it up for her. I programmed in all the approved numbers and gave them all particular sounds, so I would know who was messaging and calling her, and she would know when it was me, as well.
This sound…is not one I set up.
“Winona,” I growl and cock an eyebrow, our little tete-a-tete stalled for the moment, but it does nothing to ease the incessant pounding in my balls and the seeping of my cock.
“It’s—” She swallows again, and I know something is not right. I drag her by the wrist, naked from the waist down, behind me as I bound up the three steps to the stage. Her little legs take three quick steps for each of mine as I snatch the phone from the stool and examine the screen.
“Daddy, I can explain. I was recording. You never said I couldn’t record myself singing—”
She’s full of shit. She knows she can record herself, but this? Fuck. What I see sends a surge of possessive jealousy and fury hot through my veins.
“You’re posting videos on that fucking clock app?”
“It’s called—”
I cut her off. “I fucking know what it’s called, and I fucking also know I told you clearly and specifically you were not to be on that app, and definitely, most fucking definitely, told you not to ever, ever, post pictures or videos of yourself on it. Ever.”
Now, I know that sounds controlling, but shocker, I don’t give a shit. This girl is mine. Was mine to protect and raise, but also mine to keep to my fucking self. Especially since she grew into those double-D tits and hit the legal milestone that kept me from committing a felony with the things I wanted to do to her.
I cinch my grip on her wrist as she stands there, looking sheepish. I read the two comment notifications on the screen.
User943289595: show me your tits.
Falondiver211: God, your voice goes straight to my dick baby. Sing more, I’ll be here waiting.
I smash the phone down on the wooden floor of the stage and stomp my heel into it, the glass cracking and splintering.
“Daddy!” She tugs at her hand. “You can’t do that. You gave me that phone for my birthday. It was a gift, which means it’s mine!”
“Yours?” I snarl. “I can’t stand seeing those jackasses eyeing what’s mine. And, just to be clear, you are mine, so everything you have is also fucking mine.”
She needs a lesson in just what a possessive fucker I am. But not here. What’s coming next is going to be in my domain. She’s going to be sleeping in my bed from now on, so it’s time she got used to the new normal for her.