Daddy’s Obsession

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Arcturus stripped without hurry.

Vivienne lay wrecked on the bed, thighs still trembling, cunt glistening and oversensitive from the two orgasms he had already forced out of her. The sheets beneath her were damp. Her skin felt too hot. She watched through half-lidded, tear-wet eyes as he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor. Broad shoulders. Hard chest dusted with dark hair. The same body that had towered over her for years, now bare and intent in the low light of her bedroom. His belt was already gone. When he pushed his trousers and underwear down in one motion, his c**k sprang free—thick, heavy, flushed dark at the head, the vein along the underside standing out starkly. A bead of precum gathered at the tip.

Vivienne’s breath caught in her throat.

She had felt that hardness against her earlier. Seeing it was different. It looked too big. Too thick. The thought of that forcing its way inside her made something low in her belly clench with equal parts fear and aching, shameful want.

Arcturus climbed onto the bed between her spread legs. The mattress dipped heavily under his weight. He braced one hand beside her head and used the other to drag the blunt, hot head of his c**k through her soaked folds, coating himself in the mess he had already made of her. The wet sound was filthy. Slow. Deliberate. He rubbed himself up and down her slit, nudging her swollen clít with every upward stroke, until her hips twitched helplessly and another soft, broken sound slipped out of her.

“Easy,” he murmured, voice rougher than before. “You’re tight. Unfucked. I’m going to go slow until this pretty cúnt opens for me.”

He notched himself at her entrance and pushed.

The stretch was immediate and brutal.

Vivienne’s mouth fell open on a sharp, broken cry. Her hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging into hard muscle. It burned—hot and sharp and far too much. Her walls clenched instinctively against the intrusion, trying to keep him out even as her body grew slicker around the pressure. Tears sprang to her eyes at once.

“Daddy—ah—it hurts—”

“I know.” Arcturus’s voice was low, strained with the effort of holding still. Only the thick head was inside her, and already she was gripping him like a fist. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers, breath harsh against her lips. “Breathe for me, my heaven. Just breathe. I’ve got you. You’re doing so well.”

The nickname slipped out soft and possessive. My heaven. It hit her harder than the stretch. Tears slipped free—from the burn, from the unexpected tenderness layered under his control, from the terrible knowledge that she was letting her stepfather take her virginity and some part of her was already wetter for it.

He stayed still for a long moment, letting her adjust to just the head. His free hand stroked her hair back from her damp forehead. Then he pushed another inch.

Vivienne sobbed. Her thighs shook around his hips. The burn sharpened, white-hot. She could feel herself stretching around him, the thick ridge of the head forcing her open centimeter by centimeter. It hurt. It hurt so much she almost begged him to stop.

Almost.

Arcturus kissed the wet track of a tear on her cheek. Then the corner of her mouth. His free hand slid between their bodies and found her clít, rubbing slow, careful circles while he held himself steady inside her.

“That’s it,” he whispered against her skin. “Let me in. You’re taking me so well. Such a good girl for Daddy. My perfect little heaven.”

The dual sensation—pain and the gentle, relentless pressure on her c**t—scrambled her thoughts. Vivienne’s breathing turned ragged. Her hips gave a tiny, involuntary rock. Another thick inch slid in. The burn flared and then began to dull into something deeper, heavier. Fullness. Pressure. A stretch that made her toes curl hard against the sheets and her cunt flutter wildly around him.

“More?” he asked, voice dark with restraint.

She couldn’t form words. She only nodded, small and shaky, tears still slipping down into her hair.

Arcturus pushed deeper.

A long, broken moan tore out of her as he sank another thick inch inside. Her cúnt fluttered desperately around the intrusion. The wet sound of her body giving way was obscene in the quiet room. He kept rubbing her clít in those slow, grounding circles, coaxing her open, murmuring soft, filthy praise against her cheek until finally—finally—his hips met hers and he was buried to the hilt.

They both went still.

Vivienne felt impaled. Stuffed so full she could barely breathe. Every pulse of his c**k inside her sent sparks racing up her spine. The initial sharp pain had dulled into a deep, throbbing ache that somehow fed the heat coiling low in her belly. She could feel him everywhere—stretching her, claiming her, rewriting every soft place inside her that had never been touched.

Arcturus’s forehead dropped to her shoulder. His breath was ragged against her skin. One of his hands stroked down her side, almost soothing, while the other remained trapped between them, still gently circling her c**t.

“f**k,” he groaned, the word rough and reverent. “Look at you. Taking every inch of your daddy’s c**k like you were made for it. So tight. So fúcking wet. My heaven.” He lifted his head just enough to look at her face—tear-streaked, flushed, lips parted on shaky breaths. Something feral moved behind his eyes, barely leashed. “Mine. All mine. No one else will ever feel this. No one else will ever get to open you up.”

He started to move.

Slow at first. Careful. Long, deep strokes that dragged every thick inch out of her until only the head remained, then pushed back in with a wet, filthy sound that filled the room. Vivienne’s back arched. The friction was overwhelming. Every thrust stretched her open all over again, the burn now tangled with something hotter, needier, deeper. Her hands slid from his shoulders to his back, nails scoring lightly as soft, helpless sounds spilled out of her with every stroke.

“Daddy… ah… feels—”

“Feels what?” He rolled his hips on the next thrust, grinding deep so she felt him in her stomach. “Use your words, my heaven. Tell Daddy how his c**k feels inside this virgin cúnt.”

“Big,” she gasped, voice broken. “Too big—oh god—but… good. It’s—ah—so good—”

Arcturus’s control frayed.

The careful rhythm broke. He hooked one of her legs higher over his arm, opening her wider, and started f*****g her in earnest—deep, hard, relentless strokes that punched wet, filthy sounds out of her cúnt with every thrust. The bed creaked beneath them. Skin slapped skin. The wet noise of her body taking him over and over filled the room like something pornographic. Vivienne’s moans turned high and broken, her mind fogging under the sheer force of being taken so thoroughly.

“That’s it,” he growled against her ear, breath hot. “Take it. Take Daddy’s c**k like the little whóre you are.” His hips snapped harder, driving the air from her lungs. “You spent three years walking around this house in those tiny shorts, sitting on my lap, looking at me with those big eyes—knowing exactly what you were doing to me. And now look at you. Legs spread. Cúnt stuffed full. Moaning for the man who raised you.”

“Yes—” The word slipped out of her without thought. Her mind was dissolving into heat and friction and the thick, relentless slide of him inside her. “Yes, Daddy—”

“Yes what?” He drove particularly deep, making her cry out sharply. “Say it. Tell me who this cunt belongs to.”

“You—” She sobbed the word as another thrust punched the air from her lungs. Tears slipped free again—pleasure this time, overwhelming and shameful. “Yours—it’s yours—”

“Louder.”

“Yours!” Her voice broke on the word. “I’m yours, Daddy—your slút—your—ah—w***e—”

Arcturus groaned like the words had been punched out of him. He fúcked her harder, the wet slap of their bodies loud and filthy. His c**k dragged over that devastating spot inside her with every stroke, making her thighs shake and her cúnt clench greedily around him. Wetness poured out of her, soaking his c**k, his balls, the sheets beneath them. The sound of it was obscene.

“That’s right,” he rasped. “My whóre. My obedient little daughter who comes all over her stepfather’s c**k. My heaven.” He bit down lightly on the side of her neck, then soothed the mark with his tongue. “No one else gets this. No one else gets to feel how tight you are. How wet you get when I call you my slút. This cúnt is mine. This body is mine. Every orgasm you have from now on belongs to me.”

Vivienne could only moan in broken agreement. Her mind had gone soft and hazy, reduced to the thick stretch of him, the wet friction, the filthy praise pouring into her ear. She knew it was wrong. She knew she would hate herself in the morning—would look at herself in the mirror and feel the shame burn. But right now her stepfather was buried so deep inside her she could feel him in her stomach, and every hard thrust dragged another helpless, needy sound out of her throat.

He shifted the angle, hiking her other leg higher, folding her nearly in half so he could drive down into her with short, brutal strokes. The new depth made her vision spark white. Her cúnt fluttered wildly around him. More wetness gushed out of her with every thrust, making the filthy sound of their f*****g even louder. The bedframe knocked steadily against the wall.

“Listen to that,” Arcturus growled, voice dark with satisfaction. “Listen how wet you are for me. My perfect little slut. Dripping all over Daddy’s c**k like you were born for this.” He reached between them again and rubbed tight, ruthless circles over her swollen clít while he fúcked her. “You’re going to come again. You’re going to come all over the c**k that just took your virginity. And you’re going to thank me for it.”

“Daddy—I can’t—it’s too much—”

“You can.” His voice was pure command. “Come for me, my heaven. Come on your daddy’s c**k like a good girl. Let me feel this pretty cúnt squeeze me.”

The order shattered her.

Vivienne’s orgasm crashed through her like a wave breaking over concrete. Her back bowed clean off the bed. A high, broken cry tore from her throat as her cunt clamped down hard around him, pulsing and fluttering violently, gushing fresh wetness all over his thrusting c**k. Her vision whited out. Her thighs shook so hard she thought she might come apart. She could only cling to him and sob through it while he fúcked her straight through the climax, drawing every last tremor out of her until she was twitching and oversensitive and gasping his name like a prayer.

Arcturus didn’t stop.

He slowed just enough to let her breathe, but his hips never fully stilled. His c**k dragged through her fluttering, oversensitive walls in deep, deliberate strokes, keeping her open, keeping her full, refusing to let her come down completely. His eyes were black with hunger as he looked down at the wrecked girl beneath him—flushed, tear-streaked, lips parted, cunt still pulsing weakly around him.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, almost reverent. Then the reverence burned away into something darker, hungrier. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

He pulled out almost all the way, the thick head catching at her entrance, then slammed back in hard enough to make her cry out sharply. The wet sound was filthy. Vivienne’s oversensitive cunt clenched around the fresh intrusion, another broken moan spilling out of her throat.

“Daddy—”

“Shh.” He kissed her open mouth, swallowing the next sound, tongue sliding against hers in a slow, claiming kiss. When he pulled back his voice was pure filth. “I’m going to f**k this pretty cúnt until you can’t remember how to say anything except yes and please and yours. And when I’m finally ready to fill you up, you’re going to take every drop like the good little w***e you are.”

He started moving again—harder, deeper, the careful restraint from the beginning completely gone. The bedframe knocked against the wall in a steady, filthy rhythm. Vivienne’s moans turned continuous, high and needy, her mind so fogged with pleasure she could only dig her nails into his back and take what he gave her. Every thrust punched a wet, obscene sound out of her. Every grind of his hips against her c**t sent fresh sparks racing up her spine.

Arcturus leaned down until his mouth was at her ear, breath hot, voice rough with years of restrained obsession finally unleashed.

“Mine,” he growled, driving into her with brutal, claiming strokes. “My heaven. My slút. My daughter. Say it.”

“Yours—” she gasped, the word barely coherent. “I’m yours—Daddy—your slút—”

“Again.”

“Yours—ah—yours—”

He groaned like the broken agreement fed something dark and endless inside him. His hips snapped harder. The wet slap of their bodies filled the room. Vivienne’s second orgasm of the night was already building again—sharp and terrifying and inevitable—coiling low in her belly with every deep, ruthless thrust.

Arcturus felt it. He always felt it.

“That’s it,” he rasped against her ear. “I can feel you getting close again. My needy little heaven. Going to come all over Daddy’s c**k one more time before I decide to fill you up.” His hand slid back between them, fingers finding her c**t, rubbing tight and fast. “Give it to me. Come for me. Let me feel this cúnt milk me.”

Vivienne shattered with a broken, high sob.

Her third orgasm ripped through her harder than the last—violent, all-consuming, leaving her shaking and crying out and clenching so tightly around him that Arcturus had to grit his teeth against the urge to follow her over. He fúcked her through it, relentless, drawing every last pulse out of her until she was limp and twitching and gasping for air beneath him.

Only then did he slow.

He stayed buried deep, c**k throbbing inside her fluttering cunt, and looked down at the complete wreck he had made of his stepdaughter. Tears. Flushed skin. Swollen lips. Thighs still trembling around his hips. Cúnt still weakly pulsing around the thick length stretching her open.

Arcturus brushed damp hair back from her forehead with surprising gentleness. Then the gentleness burned away again.

“We’re not finished, my heaven,” he said quietly, voice dark with promise. “Not even close.”

He rolled his hips once—deep, deliberate—making her whimper.

“I’m going to take my time ruining you tonight.”