Wet & Wicked: Forbidden Collection Of Lust

Good Girl For Daddy (5)

Rick’s POV~

I was losing my mind. That was the only explanation. Because the only thing keeping me from ripping her jeans off right here in the parking lot was a thread of sanity that was fraying faster than I could blink.

She had spread her legs.

Just an inch. But it was enough. It was an invitation to sin, and I was a starving man.

The cab of the truck was thick with the scent of her, it was sweet, musky, and undeniably wet. I could see it.

The denim of her jeans was dark between her thighs, the fabric clinging to her like a second skin. My eyes were glued to the V of her legs, watching the way her knees trembled, the way her inner thighs shook.

Look away, Rick. You’re her stepfather. You’re supposed to be driving her home.

But I couldn't look away. My c**k was a steel rod in my pants, throbbing so hard it hurt against the zipper. I wanted to bury my face between those legs. I wanted to taste that wetness until I choked on it.

"Close them," I barked, my voice sounding wrecked. "Elena, close your damn legs."

She didn't. She pushed them wider. She looked up at me through her lashes, her lips swollen, her chest heaving. "Make me, Daddy."

Daddy.

The word broke the dam.

I killed the engine. The silence was deafening, filled only by the sound of our ragged breathing.

"You want to play?" I growled, unbuckling my seatbelt. The leather creaked. "Fine. You want discipline? I’ll give you discipline."

I didn't wait for her to move. I reached across the console, my hand shaking with rage and lust, and grabbed her by the waist. I hauled her over the gear shift. She gasped, her t**s pressing against the cold leather of the dashboard, her ass high in the air, perfectly presented for me.

This is wrong. This is so wrong. She’s your daughter.

My conscience screamed at me, but my hand didn't listen. My hand wanted to mark her.

One touch. Just one finger inside her, and I’m damned. I’m going to the lowest circle of hell. I’ll burn for eternity. But looking at this pink, swollen little cunt, having this urge to spit in her p***y… eternity sounds like a pretty good deal if I get to taste her first.

I raised my hand and brought it down.

SMACK.

The sound was loud, sharp, and echoing. My palm connected with her ass through the denim. I watched the flesh jiggle under the impact. I saw the red handprint bloom instantly.

"Rick!" she cried out, arching her back, pushing her ass harder into my hand.

God, she’s wet. I could smell it now, cutting through the leather scent. She was dripping.

"You like that?" I snarled, spanking her again. Harder. SMACK. "You like getting punished for spreading your legs for other men?"

SMACK.

"Tell me you're sorry," I demanded, my hand stinging, my c**k leaking pre-c*m into my boxers. "Tell me you belong to me."

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Daddy... please..."

I stopped spanking. My hand slid down, heavy and possessive, cupping her ass cheek. I squeezed the soft flesh, my thumb digging in. Then, I moved lower. I couldn't help it. I needed to know.

I dragged my hand right up the crack of her ass, over the wet denim, right to the source of the smell.

She was soaked. The fabric was slick. I pressed my palm flat against her p***y, right over her c**t. She was throbbing. I could feel the heat radiating off her.

"Look at you," I whispered, leaning over her back, my chest pressing against her spine. I bit her earlobe, hard. "You're dripping. You're a dirty little slut, aren't you? Soaking wet because your Daddy is spanking you."

"Yes..." she moaned, grinding her hips against my hand. "Yes, touch me... please, Daddy, I need it..."

I slipped my fingers lower, hooking them into the waistband of her panties. I could feel the heat of her skin. I was right there. One pull and I’d be inside her. I could finger-f**k her right here. I could make her scream.

My fingers brushed her swollen lips. They were slick. So f*****g slick.

Do it. Just do it. f**k her.

I spun her around, gripping her hips hard. I forced her to look down between her legs.

My fingers were hooked in her waistband, and I used my thumbs to pry her lips apart.

I stared at the pink, glistening flesh. I watched my own fingers glistening with her wetness. I wasn't moving. I was just holding her open, staring at the hole.

My hand shook. I wanted to push in. I wanted to fist her right there. But I just held her open, letting the cool air hit her c**t while I watched her pulse jump.

But then I saw my face in the rearview mirror and then at her, looking Flushed and desperate. Looking at me like I was her god.

Guilt hit me hard and I ripped my hand away.

I pulled back so fast I almost fell into the driver’s seat. I zipped my pants up with a violent jerk, my breath coming in jagged gasps.

"No," I choked out.

"No?" She whimpered, trying to push her hips back, trying to find my hand. "Rick, no, please, I'm so close..."

"I said NO!" I roared, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. I stared straight ahead, sweat dripping down my temple. "You don't get to come. You don't deserve it. You’re going to sit there, aching and empty, all the way home. That is your punishment."

I started the truck. The engine roared to life, shaking the chassis.

"Buckle up, Elena."

I drove like a maniac. I didn't look at her. I couldn't. Because if I looked at her spread legs, at the wet spot on the leather seat she was leaving behind... I knew I wouldn't make it to the house.

I was a dead man walking. And the worst part? I wanted to die.

——————

The engine cut. The silence in the driveway was heavy, suffocating. Like the air before a tornado tears a house apart.

Elena didn’t wait for me to open her door. She didn’t look at me. She didn’t say a word. She just threw the passenger door open, jumped out, and sprinted for the front porch like the devil himself was chasing her.

I watched her go. I watched the way her ass jiggled in those tight jeans, the way she stumbled slightly on the porch step because her legs were still shaking from what I’d done to them.

The front door slammed closed. The lock clicked.

I sat there in the dark truck for ten minutes. Just breathing.

My hand was still on the steering wheel. It was shaking. I looked down at my right hand, the hand that had been inside her panties twenty minutes ago. I could still feel the phantom weight of her ass cheek. I could still smell her.

I finally got out. I walked into the house. It was dead quiet.

Vanessa wasn’t home. Thank God. If she had been, I would have vomited.

I walked straight past Elena’s closed door. I didn’t knock. I knew she was in there, probably crying, probably cursing my name, probably touching herself because I wouldn’t let her finish.

I went into the master bedroom. Vanessa’s bedroom.

I closed the door and locked it.

I sat on the edge of the bed on the white sheets. I looked at my right hand. The hand that had spanked her ass until it was red. The hand that had pried her p***y lips open.

I brought my fingers to my mouth. I didn't just lick them. I sucked them. I tasted the salt, the musk, the sweet rot of her arousal. I groaned, my eyes rolling back.

"Fuck... you taste like sin, Elena."

I unzipped. I didn't even take my pants off. I just shoved them down, freeing my c**k. It was angry. Veins popping. Purple and slick with pre-c*m.

I grabbed it. Hard. I wanted to hurt myself.

I closed my eyes, and the image hit me.

Elena. On her knees. On this bed. Right where Vanessa sleeps.

I imagined her mouth open, drool stringing from her lips, eyes glazed over. I imagined her choking on me. Gagging. Her throat spasming around my shaft while I held her hair and f****d her face.

"Take it," I hissed to the empty room, my hips bucking violently. "Take all of it, you dirty little whore."

I stroked fast. Brutally. I wasn't jerking off; I was trying to f**k my own fist. I wanted to c*m on the sheets. I wanted to ruin Vanessa’s bed with my spunk because her daughter had ruined my mind.

I was close. So close. The image of her ass, red and marked by my hand, flashing in my brain.

"Elena..." I choked out, my voice guttural, animalistic. "I'm gonna fill your throat... swallow it... swallow every drop, you f*****g slut..."

The handle turned.

My eyes snapped open.

I froze. My hand was still wrapped around my c**k, slick with pre-c*m and spit. I was sitting on my wife’s bed, jerking off violently while calling her daughter a w***e.

The door swung open.

Vanessa.

She stood there. With her coat on. Keys in her hand with her tired eyes.

She looked at me. She looked at my hand on my c**k. She looked at the mess on the white duvet.

Time stopped.