Wet & Wicked: Forbidden Collection Of Lust

Good Girl For Daddy (6)

Rick's POV~

Vanessa hit the floor before she even made it past the bed frame.

Her knees buckled and she crumpled onto the hardwood with a heavy thud that shook the room. And for a moment, I let out a sigh of relief that she was drunk again.

"You... you disgust me," she slurred, her mascara running black rivers down her cheeks. She was wasted completely. The vodka on her breath could kill a horse. "Six months, Rick... six months you haven't touched me... and you're sitting here... jerking off in my bed... like some pathetic... pathetic..."

She couldn't even finish the sentence. She just laughed a broken, ugly laugh that echoed off the walls.

"Who was it?" she screamed, her voice cracking. "Was it that little... that little tramp you keep staring at? Huh? Your precious little mistresses? Which of them?"

"Shut up, Vanessa."

"Don't you tell me to shut up!" She tried to stand, but her legs were jelly. She grabbed the nightstand instead, pulling a lamp down with a crash. Glass shattered everywhere. "You think I don't know? You think I'm blind? I see the way you look at those ladies. I see the way they look at you. You all are sick."

She was right. I was sick. But she had no idea that Elena was sick as well.

Six months. Six months since I'd touched this woman. Six months since she'd even let me. Every time I reached for her, she'd flinch. Every time I tried, she'd roll over and mumble about a headache.

But I'd seen things at late nights. Seen her locked phones. Seen a text she thought she deleted but I recovered. "Miss you. Can't wait for Friday."

There was no name, no number. But I knew.

And now here she was, on my floor. Drunk. Accusing me of f*****g her own daughter. The irony was so thick I could choke on it.

"Get up," I said through clenched teeth.

"Make me." She hiccupped, then laughed again. That ugly laugh. "Or better yet... go make them get up. Go to your little whores. I bet they are awake for you. I bet they’re spread out on that bed just waiting for you to—"

I grabbed her arm hard. I hauled her up off the floor like she weighed nothing, because she did weigh nothing to me anymore.

"Go to bed, Vanessa." My voice was ice. "And if you ever speak again, I will end you."

I dropped her on the bed. She bounced once, then lay there, staring at the ceiling with glassy, unfocused eyes. Muttering. Cursing. Fading.

I walked out.

I didn't slam the door. I closed it softly.

The hallway was dark.

I walked. My c**k was still hard, still aching from the memory of the truck. From her. From the image of Elena's pink, swollen p***y spread open under my fingers.

Stop. Turn around. Go to your office. Drink a scotch. Forget this ever happened.

But my feet didn't listen.

They never listened when it came to her.

I passed the bathroom. Passed the guest room. Passed the stairs.

And then I was standing in front of Elena's door.

It was half open.

Just a crack. Maybe two inches. But that was enough. That was more than enough.

My hand was on the doorframe. My knuckles were white. My heart was slamming so hard I could hear it in my ears.

Don't look. Don't you f*****g look. You're her stepfather. You're a dead man. You're already in hell.

I looked. And God help me.

She was standing in front of her mirror with a black crop top. It was so short it barely covered her t**s. The fabric was stretched tight across her chest, her n*****s were hard and visible through the thin material, like two little bullets begging to be bitten.

And below that...

Fuck

… were black lace panties. The kind that left nothing to the imagination. They were cut so high on her hips that the curve of her round, full and perfect ass was completely exposed.

The fabric between her legs was sheer. I could see everything. The shadow of her slit. The outline of her c**t. She was already wet. I could tell by the way the lace clung to her.

She was brushing her hair slowly and sensually. Like she knew someone was watching. Like she wanted someone to watch. Her eyes met mine in the mirror.

She didn't scream. Didnt even gasp.

"Hi, Daddy," she whispered.

My c**k throbbed so hard I saw stars.

She set the brush down. Then she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of those panties and slowly, agonizingly slowly, dragged them down her thighs.

They pooled at her feet and she stepped out of them.

And stood there. Completely bare. Completely exposed. Her p***y glistening under the dim light of her lamp.

I locked that door like I was sealing my own coffin shut. The sound bounced off the walls and hit us both like a bullet.

Elena's eyes went wide. Then narrow. Then dangerous. The smile that had been there immediately vanished like it was never there.

And then she was glaring at me like I owed her money.

"What the f**k are you doing?" Her voice was sharp. Biting. "That's my door, Rick. That's my room. You can't just… you can't just walk in here and lock it like you own the place."

"I do own the place."

"You own the house. You don't own me."

Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea how wrong you are.

I didn't answer. I just stood there with my back against the door, my arms crossed. Looking at her the way I look at a problem I need to solve.

She shifted and then quickly rushed to cover herself up with a blanket and jumped right on the bed, under the blanket and pulled it tighter. Like that was gonna save her.

"Knock next time," she snapped. "Or don't come in at all. I swear to God, Rick, if you're here to do that whole dad thing again, that whole 'let me discipline you' bullshit, I will end you."

She was trying to sound tough. She was failing. Because her voice cracked on the last word. And her eyes, those big brown eyes , they weren't angry. They were wounded.

She was still pissed about the truck.

I could see it in the way she was holding herself. The way her jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping. The way her thighs were pressed together under that blanket like she was still aching. Still empty.

I left her dripping in that cab. I pulled my hand away. I told her she didn't deserve to come.

And now she was sitting here looking at me like I'd personally insulted her entire bloodline.

Good. She should be pissed. Because I was pissed too. Pissed at myself. Pissed at the way my hand shook when I touched her. Pissed at the way I almost f****d her right there in the parking lot like some animal.

But I wasn't gonna show that. Not now.

I pushed off the door.

She tensed. I walked toward her slowly. Like I had all the time in the world. Like she wasn't shaking under that blanket.

"Where are you going?" she demanded. "Stop. Stop right there."

I didn't stop.

"Rick, I swear to —"

I grabbed the edge of the blanket.

She grabbed the other side.

We pulled. Like kids fighting over a toy. Except the toy was a twenty-one-year-old girl who wanted me to ruin her and I wanted to let her.

"Let go," I said calmly.

"No."

"Elena."

"No."

I yanked. The blanket flew off her like a flag. And there she was.

Her t**s were practically falling out of the black top, the fabric stretched so thin I could see the dark circles of her n*****s.

No bra, Obviously no bra. Because this girl didn't own a single piece of clothing that wasn't designed to make men lose their f*****g minds.

And below that… nothing.

She'd taken her panties off. They were somewhere on the floor. I didn't see them.

Her p***y was right there, so pink and swollen and glistening. She wasn't even trying to hide it. She was just sitting there with her legs pressed together, her knees knocking, her chest heaving like she'd been running.

She looked up at me, furious and defiant.

"Happy?" she spat. "You wanted to see me? Look. Now get the f**k out."

I didn't move.

I just looked at her open, shinning cunt. The lips were puffy and slick. A thin line of wetness running down her inner thigh. She was so f*****g wet it was dripping onto my bedspread.

My c**k jerked painfully in my pants.

"You're not getting out of this room," I said. My voice came out rougher than I meant it to. "Not until I'm done."

"Done with what?"

I climbed onto the bed.

She scrambled back and hit the headboard. The blanket was gone. She had nothing to hide behind. Nothing but her anger and her bare p***y and those big f*****g eyes.

I crawled over her slowly, on my knees. Like a predator. My hands went on either side of her head. Caging her in.