Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 132(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
“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.
“I don’t give them my name or anything!” she pleads as I drag her off the stage, down the aisle, heading toward my suite of rooms down the hall by the kitchen.
Her room is upstairs, directly above mine, and I’ve listened to her up there for years.
When we moved in, and she was still childlike, I’d hear her jumping on her bed, dancing around, singing into one of the many karaoke machines I’ve bought her over the years, upgrading them every time a new one came out.
Then, more recently, it was me lying in my bed at night, listening to her soft singing, her little footsteps on the floor above as I jerked myself raw, imagining how she would feel wrapped around me. Mouth, tits, pussy, ass. I thought of it all. And now that I’ve broken through, stuck my tongue in her pretty pink cooze, sucked on her gorgeous clit, and swallowed down her cum, I’m not going to be just listening anymore.
I’m taking. And she’s learning.
Chapter Six
Reuben
Iplow through my bedroom door with her still in tow, whining and sassing me about being a controlling asshole.
Yeah, my girl is sweet, but she gives me a run for my money, too. She’s got half her mother’s gene pool after all, and she knows her way around being a brat when she sets her mind to it.