Dirty Little Sinner: Taboo Chronicles.

Punish me Daddy! 2

Seven hours later and we were almost done decorating the house. We had packed and wrapped the boxes with gifts and ribbons, laced the necessary edges of the house with lights that screamed Christmas. The only thing left to do was the Christmas tree.

Dante would steal occasional glances at me. The way his eyes roamed my body like I wouldn’t notice. I saw him, but I just didn’t let him see.

I ignored him anyway, but it didn’t stop the thoughts brewing in my mind.

I hated it.

I hated him?

I didn’t know anymore.

“Emily,” he said, standing directly behind me. “Pass me the scissors in front of you, I need to cut the excess ribbon on this piece.”

Instinctively, I bent down to pick the scissors up from the ground, completely forgetting that I had a short on. A tight little short that hugged my thing and ass.

My ass brushed slightly against the front of his sweatpants and I jerked at the contact, feeling every inch of him against my sweat. The contact was too much, or too close either. But it was close enough to send shivers down my spine, close enough to notice. Heat sparked instantly in my core in a way I didn’t mean it to.

He was too close, and the worst part was, I liked it.

Panicked, I spun around to hand him the scissors and I almost fell back to face the ground.

He gripped my arm and caught me, stopping me midair. He pulled me right into him with force like I weighed nothing at all, his other hand slipped smoothly around my waist and there wasn’t a breathing space left between us. Just heat and my undeniable attraction for him.

“Be careful Em,” he said, with that infuriating smirk playing on his lips again, and I almost cursed at him because he knew what he was doing.

My stomach flipped at his words, not in a bad way. I felt every part of him hard against me.

His chest.

His abs.

The hardness of his bulge, hard against my stomach and suddenly my body started to falter, my n*****s became sensitive against the fabric I had on, hard against his chest. Heat brewing in a place it wasn’t supposed to.

And he noticed.

Of course, he did.

For a moment, I thought to just crash my lips on his and kiss him.

But I didn’t.

I laid my hand flat against his chest and pushed him back, gently.

“Great catch, thank you.” I said, my voice low. “I need to get a drink.”

I headed over to the fridge to grab a beer, phone in hand.

I was scrolling on i********: and then something caught my eye.

A story update.

I opened it.

It was my ex-boyfriend kissing my best friend in some kind of rave club party.

The nerve.

My stomach twisted, but I didn’t let myself care. I saw it coming anyway. A month ago, I suspected it, but I didn’t let myself think too much about it.

I told myself that it was just a hunch, that I was reading too much meaning into it, that it would all go away but now—

He was kissing someone else and that person wasn’t me.

I felt the pain sting briefly again for a moment.

“Emily, are you going to sit there and stare at your phone all day?” All day? “Come over here.”

It’s been seven hours and I just wanted to get this moment to myself.

Why wouldn’t he let me?

I stared at him. “All day? Seriously?” And I completely forgot the man I most definitely disliked. Instead, I saw something else.

Memory flashes of the way he f****d my mom, the way his hips clapped against her ass and the way he had looked at me, winked at me.

Shit! I shouldn’t be doing this.

“Emily! Over here!” he said, slightly yelling.

I didn’t answer, I just rolled my eyes again.

He hates that...

“Did you just roll your eyes at me again?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You definitely did,” he said. “ Rolling your eyes at me like that, you’re practically begging to get punished.”

My breath caught at the thought, at the thought of being punished...maybe I should roll my eyes again?

More?

I wonder what he meant by that.

I shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t want him, but—

“Roll your eyes at me again, and I’ll give you exactly what you need,” he said. “You’ve been asking for it all day after all.”

My breath caught, but I didn’t let him see the effect he had on me.

We finished up the tree and everything looked perfect. I exhaled, satisfied at how everything turned out perfectly.

I went up to my room to take a shower...the water felt nice, after a long torturous day with Dante. I wondered what he was doing.

So I headed up to the room before I changed my mind.

The door was open, he almost never closed his door. It’s like a habit. My eyes swept the room, but he wasn’t there.

I walked in and turned left to the restroom. The door was half-open, and I knew that I wasn’t supposed to go in because the shower was running, and he was definitely in it. Everything screamed for me to turn back, but my legs weren’t listening.

I walked in, and I almost moaned at the sight. He was completely naked now.

Bare.

My eyes swept up and down his nude body, shamelessly.

I threw a hand over my mouth, heat surging in all the wrong places I probably didn’t want?

He was spreading lather all over his body, and for the first time, I didn’t try to hide or look away. His hands moved with such precision, like he was tracing the terrace of his own body. His hands moved lower now, to his belly. He rubbed gently on his belly before sliding his right hand down to his d**k. He wasn’t a grower, he was a shower.

I bit my lips to suppress my thoughts.

He stroked it once, slow and firm and my stomach flipped. Then he stroked it again, each stroke instinctively making him hard. Then he set a pace and kept going, like he was giving someone a performance. One last stroke, and then he stopped, and returned to wash other parts of his body.

I threw a hand over my mouth, heat surging in all the wrong places I probably didn’t want?

I sneaked out quietly, out of his bathroom, out of his room, up the stairs and back into my room. I dived right into my soft mattress.

The thought of Dante—seeing him like that...got me really horny. My sudden need for him wasn’t something I could deny or control anymore. I slowly removed the shorts I had on and tossed to the side of the bed, then my shirt followed.

I laid back against the pillows, my legs spread wide apart, my head spiraling with only the thoughts of Dante, his rock solid body, the way he stroked his d**k in the shower, the thickness and length when he was still soft and how big it grew when it got hard, and how good they’d feel inside of me.

I lied back on the bed, my heart slamming against my ribs, surprised by my own brazenness. I closed my eyes instinctively, as I slid my right hand below the waistband of my panties, slow and sweet and the moment my fingers found my c**t,

“f**k, Dant—"

I crashed back on the pillow. The intensity of pleasure hit me all at once.

I began drawing slow torturous circles on my c**t, while my left hand slipped up to rub my n*****s. It felt good, too good, more good than I would have expected.

It began to get hot, really hot and just when I couldn’t stand it anymore,

“Oh my f*****g Go—” I almost ripped my own panties off. I slipped it down, and it came off, down to my ankle, fast. I spread my legs wide again and rubbed my c**t faster, tension building in my stomach.

I pictured Dante’s fingers inside me instead, finger f*****g the s**t out of my tight little p***y, those long, thick, perfect fingers, digging inside of me, stretching me out exactly how I need them.

Rough and Fast.

“Dante...fuck,” I sobbed, and for the first time, his smirk meant something other than annoyance. I pictured him slamming his d**k inside me with that dirty smirk on his face, choking the f**k out of me.

“Oh Dante...fuck me,” it was getting hotter now, my pace began to quicken on my c**t. I was close, so close. I felt it in the way my body began to tighten, in how my p***y occasionally clenched around my fingers, how my toes curled in response.

I slipped my fingers inside and stroked myself, each stroke pulling me closer to the edge. I arched more into my fingers as his name tore out of my throat in ragged moans.

“Dante....” I slipped my fingers up and pinched my n*****s, I jerked at the contact, my fingers curling deeper inside my p***y.

I slipped my other hand up and pinched my n*****s, as my hips kept rolling, my fingers kept stroking and my head kept spiraling with the thoughts of my own stepfather's c**k, grinding deep inside my wet p***y.

“f**k! Dante,” at once, the wave crashed over me with force. I fell back onto the bed, eyes closed, toes curling in pleasure, my body, trembling with aftershocks, my thighs instinctively clasped together, but I opened them back to touch myself through the aftershocks.

“Yes...fuck,” I kept trembling, kept shaking, kept thinking of him, his d**k, his fingers, his body, his—

“Emily, what the f**k are you doing?” I jerked, his voice snapped me out of it at once, and my legs closed again,

Fuck!

“Don’t you knock?” I asked as I scrambled out of my bed. “You can’t just badge in whenever you want, Dante.”

“This is my f*****g house and your door was open, you slut!” I should have been offended, but that word sparked something deep inside of me, something dangerous.

“You can’t do that, Emily,” he said, partly sounding like a question. “You can’t—"

“Do what?” I asked, my eyes trailing lower to the bulge in his pants and I let him see, see just how much I desired him. Just how much I wanted to feel him inside of me.

“You’re really asking to get punished, Emily,” I took that as a challenge. I needed to push him.

Surprised by my own brazenness, I slowly took off my clothes as I moved back as if daring him to follow, but he didn’t.

Not yet.

I laid back gently on bed, completely bare now, and slowly I parted my legs wide for him to see. For him to see just how badly I needed him, just how wet I got for him.

My p***y still glistened from before, wet with my own pleasure.

“Then please, Dante,” I begged like my life absolutely depended on it. “Please, punish me,” I said, never tearing my gaze away from his and I didn’t miss it. “Punish your stepdaughter.”

I saw the way his gaze darkened, the way his fist stayed clenched beside him like he was trying not to lose his mind over me sent a fresh wave of desire trickling down my body.

I parted my thighs wider for him, and slowly, I let my fingers trail down between my legs, slowly running my fingers through my slit, each movement sparked something in his eyes, I could see it. All of it.

“Dante, Please,” I sobbed as I threw my head back, my fingers finding my c**t again. “Your stepdaughter needs to be taught a hard lesson.” I rolled my fingers against my slit, slow and daring.

“Punish me, Dante,” I cooed in a slow seductive tone. “You know you want to.” His mask started to peel off, his grip on anything left of control, slipping. His body wasn’t a fighter though. He began to grow hard, his bulge almost threatening to burst out his pants and f**k, I love that.