TEACH ME, DADDY: CORRUPTED BY MY STEPFATHER

CHAPTER 4: DADDY’S FIRST LESSON

WILLOW’S POV

Nikolai went very, very still under me. He didn’t fling me off his lap like I’d expected, or move himself from this position.

His fingers only dug into the cushion of the couch on either side of his thighs until the leather creaked, and his jaw locked so hard that I heard his teeth, and he did not so much as breathe.

“Willow. Get off.”

“Get off? Why, sir?” I whispered, grinding the slightest against him.

He was already hard. I felt every inch of it through his jeans, against the thin fabric of my shorts, and my breath caught.

“Willow.”

“Make me, Daddy.”

“Get. Off.”

“No.”

“You are testing me.”

“I’m sitting on you. What’s so wrong about sitting on my stepfather’s lap? If it’s so bad, then maybe you should move me yourself.”

His knuckles had gone white where they were dug into the cushion. His pupils were blown black.

“This is your final warning, Willow Calloway.”

“If I’m such a stupid little girl, Daddy, then teach me. Or are you scared?”

“If I teach you,” he said, his voice gone several degrees lower, “if I put one hand on you — and I mean one, Willow — I will not stop at one. I will not stop at one lesson. I will not stop at one night. I will ruin every single frat boy who ever comes near you again. I will not share. I will not be gentle about it. I will teach you things that will make a nineteen-year-old girl cry the first time and beg for them the second time, and you will never be able to look at another man without comparing him to the one who broke you in. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

I could not breathe.

I could feel every single inch of him hard between my thighs through the thin cotton of my shorts.

The heat of him was scalding me.

My hips rocked once involuntarily, and I felt the head of him drag against me through the fabric, and a small choked sound left my throat before I could catch it.

“Yes.”

“Give me one good reason I should damn everything, Willow.” His voice was strained. “Give me one real reason I should burn every single rule I have lived by for forty-five years. Right now. Out loud.”

I rocked once more, deliberate this time, and watched his eyes darken.

“Because no one else has ever made me feel a single thing, Daddy. I’ve been with three boys and not one of them has ever gotten me wet, no matter what they did. I genuinely thought there was something wrong with me.” My voice cracked. “And then I sat on this couch, on you, and I’m soaked through my shorts and you haven’t even touched me yet. So please. Burn the rules. I am begging you to burn them.”

His jaw was a hard line.

“Say it one more time.”

“I want you, Daddy. I want you to be the one. Please. I’ll be so good. I’ll be your good girl. Promise.”

That did it.

His restraint broke so cleanly I saw the exact second it happened — the dark flooding all the way into his face, the careful stepfather falling off him like a coat he’d been wearing for three years too long.

The monster from behind the bedroom door was the one looking down at me now.

“Stand up.”

I stood.

He stood with me, tall and huge and suddenly very close, and he took my wrist, pulling me down the hall and to his bedroom. The same room I’d heard him jerk himself off alone in two nights before.

My heart was hammering. He sat me on the edge of the king-sized bed and looked down at me with an expression that was equal parts hunger and warning.

“The first thing you are going to learn,” he said quietly, “is your own body. You can’t tell a man what you want if you have never once told it to yourself. That’s where we start. Tonight. With me watching you.”

He pulled a sleek, matte-black wand from the drawer of his nightstand. My eyes went wide. I had not expected this.

“A man’s hands, his mouth, his c**k — they’re all tools, Willow. But a tool is only as good as the body it’s learning. And I want to know your body better than you know it yourself before I put another inch of me anywhere near you.” His eyes dragged over me, slow, filthy, proprietary. “Lay back.”