Falling for Daddy's Best Friend

Down On My Knees

Mark's POV

I should have stopped this at the patio. I should have slapped myself, walked back inside and poured a cup of coffee like a normal, rational man.

But I didn't.

And as I stood at the third tee box, watching Becca bend over to pick up her ball, I knew I wasn't going to stop. Not today. Not ever. Her dress rode up just an inch, exposing the smooth, tanned skin of her thighs. I felt my jaw tighten, my c**k twitching against the zipper of my shorts. God, I had just been inside her twenty minutes ago, and I was already aching to do it again.

She was a drug. A lethal, beautiful, forbidden drug.

Rebecca. My best friend's daughter. I had watched her grow up, watched her lose her baby teeth, watched her graduate high school, watched her turn from a gangly teenager into a stunning, curvy woman. I had fought like hell to keep my eyes off her over the last few years. But last night, she had looked at me over the dinner table with those dark, sultry eyes, and every ounce of restraint I had built up for a decade had crumbled like dry sand.

Now, I was hooked.

"Mark? You okay?"

Her voice pulled me back to reality. She was standing next to me, looking up at me with a mix of confusion and lingering lust. Her dad was already walking toward the next hole, unaware of the storm brewing in my chest.

"Fine," I lied, gripping my golf club so hard my knuckles turned white. "Just thinking about my swing."

She smirked. She knew I was full of s**t.

We walked down the fairway together, side by side. The sun beat down on us, and the air smelled of cut grass and summer heat. I forced myself to keep my hands to myself, to act like the respectable family friend, but it was torture. Every step she took, her hips swayed just slightly, taunting me.

When we reached the fourth hole, her dad stopped to answer a phone call. It was his work, some emergency at the office. I watched him wander off a few yards, his voice muffled in the open air.

This was it. My moment.

I turned to Becca. She was looking at me, her lips slightly parted, her breath quickening. She knew what I was going to do.

"Come here," I said, my voice low.

She hesitated for exactly one second. Then, she stepped toward me, into the shade of a large maple tree. I grabbed her wrist, pulling her flush against my chest.

"Mark, your wife…." she started.

"Don't," I cut her off, my voice sharp. "Don't say her name right now. Not when you're looking at me like that."

Her eyes dropped to my lips. I kissed her hard, pushing her back against the tree trunk. My tongue invaded her mouth, tasting the sweet, minty lip gloss she had applied that morning. Her hands fisted in my shirt, pulling me closer. I broke the kiss, looking down at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest rising and falling rapidly under the thin fabric of her dress.

"Tell me you want this," I demanded, my voice hoarse. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I want you so bad it hurts."

Fuck. I was done for.

I dropped to my knees in front of her. I looked up at her, her beautiful, flushed face, her trembling legs. I slowly pushed her dress up, exposing her bare, wet p***y. She didn't have her panties on. I knew why. I had them stuffed in my glove compartment from the patio earlier. I leaned in, my mouth hovering an inch from her core. I could smell her arousal, sweet and intoxicating.

"Mark, no….not here, not so close to…."

She gasped as my tongue darted out, licking a long, slow stripe up her slit. I circled her c**t, sucking gently, and her knees buckled. I grabbed her hips, holding her steady against the tree.

"You taste like heaven," I murmured against her wet flesh. "I could stay down here for hours."

I ate her out like a starving man. I licked, sucked, and nibbled at her, feeling her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling roughly. I loved the way she squirmed, the way her breath hitched when I found the perfect spot.

"Mark... oh, god..."

I drove two fingers into her, curling them upward. Her inner walls clamped down around my fingers, and I felt her start to shudder.

"You're going to c*m for me right here," I growled, my voice muffled against her thigh. "Right now."

I sucked her c**t hard, pressing my fingers deep. Her whole body convulsed, her thighs clamped around my head, and a choked cry escaped her lips, barely muffled by her hand. I kept licking, drinking every last drop of her release until she went limp against the tree, gasping for air.

I stood up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. She looked at me, dazed, her pupils blown wide. I pressed my forehead against hers, catching my own ragged breath.

"Becca," I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion I didn't want to show. "What the hell are we doing?"

She reached up, touching my cheek. "I don't care," she whispered back. "Just don't stop."

I closed my eyes.

I had a wife at home. I had a reputation. I had a friendship with her father that went back thirty years, and yet, when I looked at her, when I felt her trembling against me, none of that mattered. All I cared about was keeping her. I opened my eyes, staring down at her. A dark, possessive fire burned in my gut.

"You're mine now, Rebecca," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "I don't care who knows it. I don't care what it costs. You. Are. Mine."

She stared at me, her eyes wide. She didn't argue neighter did she pull away, she just nodded slowly. "I know."

A whistle from down the fairway snapped us out of our trance. Her dad was waving at us, his phone call finished. I stepped back, smoothing down my shirt as I watched Becca fix her dress, her hands shaking slightly.

As we walked back toward the cart, I reached out and took her hand, squeezing it once. Whatever happened next…the guilt, the fallout, the devastation, I would face it all. Because for the first time in twenty years, I felt truly alive.

And I wasn't going to give that up.

Not for anyone.