Daddy’s Little Slut: 30 Steamy Daddy Tales

Chapter 6

The following morning, the house felt like a pressure cooker. Every floorboard that creaked, every distant thud of a closing door, sounded like a gunshot. I sat at the breakfast table, picking at a piece of dry toast, while the silence betweeniand Lucas stretched thin, vibrating with an unspoken war.

My mother was already gone for the day, having left early for a gallery opening. It was just the three of us.

I sat at the breakfast table, my spine rigid, my thighs clamped together so tightly they trembled. Deep inside me, the silicone vibrator egg felt like a huge, invasive weight, its smooth surface pressing against my p***y walls.

Lucas had forced it on me minutes before we went down for breakfast. *“Put it in, or the video goes to Mom,”* he’d hissed.

I had obeyed, the sensation of sliding the toy in making me shiver. I sat across from him, watching him lean back in his chair with a smug, lazy expression.

Now, I was trapped between the two men. Silas sat to my left, smelling of cedar and expensive coffee, his gaze lingering on my flushed face with a mixture of confusion and simmering hunger. Lucas sat opposite me, his expression a mask of bored indifference, his hand resting casually beneath the table.

"Pass the juice, Amaya," Lucas said, his voice casual, though his eyes were fixed on me with a predatory gleam.

"You're very quiet this morning, Amaya," Lucas remarked, his voice dripping with a fake, sugary concern. "Not hungry?"

"I'm fine," I whispered, my voice sounding thin to my own ears.

"Are you?" Lucas asked. He shifted his hand under the table, his fingers curling around a small, black plastic remote for the vibrator in my p***y. "Because you look a little... tense."

*Bzzzzzz.*

I gasped, my back arching instinctively. The toy suddenly roared to life on a low setting, a steady, humming vibration that sent a jolt of electricity straight to my c**t.

"Amaya? Is everything okay?" Silas asked, his brow furrowing. He leaned in, his scent of cedar and espresso filling my senses.

"I... I just choked on my water," I lied, my voice trembling. I gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles turning white.

Lucas smirked, his thumb sliding across the remote. He clicked a button, and the vibration jumped from a low hum to a frantic, pulsing rhythm.

*Bzz-bzz-BZZZ!*

"Mmgh!" I stifled a moan, my legs clamping shut. The toy was hitting my G-spot with a precision that was almost cruel. I could feel the wetness flooding my panties, the friction of the silicone making a soft, squelching sound, I controlled myself as I gripped the table.

Praying a miracle will happen before i c*m right here and now. A miracle happened.

Silas cleared his throat, his voice deep. "I... I have to go. The meeting. I'm already late."

He stood up abruptly, his gaze lingering on me for one last, before kissing me on the forehead then he turned and hurried out the front door. The sound of his car pulling away from the driveway felt like a starting gun.

The second the engine faded, Lucas’s face shifted. The mask of boredom vanished, replaced by a cold, demanding authority. He didn't move from his spot, but his voice became a sharp snap.

"Go upstairs. My room. Now." he commanded.

I was still shivering from the orgasm, my legs feeling like jelly. "Lucas, please..."

"I didn't ask," he countered, his thumb hovering over the remote. "Go up, get on the bed, and spread your p***y wide. If I walk in and you're not open for me, I hit send on the cinema video. Now move!"

I scrambled up the stairs, my heart hammering against my ribs. I entered his room, the scent of mint and metallic musk clinging to the air. I climbed onto his bed, my breath coming in shallow gasps. I reached down, sliding my panties off and pulling my legs back, exposing my dripping, swollen entrance to the empty room. I felt vulnerable, exposed, and terrified—and God help me, I was already wet again.

The door slammed open. Lucas walked in, his eyes scanning my open posture with a look of pure ownership.

"Good girl," he murmured.

He didn't waste time. He ripped his shorts down, his c**k springing out, rigid and demanding. He didn't kiss me; he simply grabbed my hips, removed the vibrator and freed his c**k, which was already rigid and pulsing. He pressed the hot, blunt head of it against my stomach, the heat seeping through the thin fabric of my top.

"Get on your knees," he ordered.

I sank to the floor, the hardwood cold against my skin. I looked up at him, seeing the absolute power he felt. He looked down at me not as a person, but as a possession.

"Open wide," he commanded.

I leaned forward, my lips parting. I wrapped my mouth around him, the salty taste of his skin hitting my tongue. I worked him with a frantic energy, wanting to satisfy him quickly so I could escape the oppressive weight of his gaze.

"Mmm, that's it," Lucas groaned, his hand sliding into my hair, gripping the strands tight and pulling my head back. "Suck it like you're begging for your life, Amaya. Show me how much you fear me."

"Gllph... mmmph!" I muffled a moan as he shoved himself deeper, hitting the back of my throat. I gagged slightly, my eyes watering, but I didn't pull away. The danger of it—the knowledge that Silas could walk through the door at any moment—sent a jolt of electric pleasure straight to my core.

"You love this," Lucas whispered, his voice a jagged edge. "You love that I can make you do anything. You love being the little secret that keeps this family from imploding."

He pulled out of my mouth with a wet *pop* and shoved me backward onto his bed. He didn't bother removing my clothes; he simply ripped my panties aside, the lace tearing with a sharp sound.

"Ahh!" I gasped as his fingers slammed into me without warning.

He was rough, his movements lacking any of the reverence Silas showed me. He pumped two fingers deep inside me, the sound of shlicking and squelching filling the quiet room. He wasn't looking for my pleasure; he was claiming his territory.

"Look at me," he commanded.

I opened my eyes, my vision blurred with lust and tears.

"Who do you belong to?" he asked, his thumb grinding into my c******s with a punishing pressure.

"You," I whimpered, my back arching off the mattress. "I... I belong to you."

"Say it louder."

"I belong to you, Lucas!" I cried out, the admission triggering a violent surge of contractions.

"Good girl," he murmured. He withdrew his fingers and positioned himself, driving into me in one swift, brutal motion.

"Fuckkk!" I screamed, the sound muffled by the duvet as I pressed my face into the fabric.

He began to f**k me with a rhythmic, punishing intensity. There was no romance here, only the raw exercise of power. Every thrust felt like a stamp, marking me as his. I clung to his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin, my breath coming in short, jagged gasps.

"You're so tight," Lucas groaned, his pace accelerating. "Does Silas make you feel like this? Does he break you like I do?"

"No... ahh... no!" I wailed, the friction building into an unbearable crescendo.

"He's too soft," Lucas sneered, his hips slamming into mine with a fleshy, slapping sound. "He treats you like a porcelain doll. I treat you like the slut you are."

The cruelty of his words acted like gasoline on a fire. I clamped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, my internal walls pulsing around him.

I let out a loud, guttural moan as the friction built into a crescendo. I was close, so close, when the sound of the front door slamming echoed from downstairs.

My heart stopped. *Silas.*

"He's back," I whispered, panic surging through me.

"Shut up and take it," Lucas hissed, his thrusts becoming more frantic, as if the risk of being caught was fueling his fire. "Just a few more—"

The bedroom door creaked open.

"Amaya? I forgot my briefcase—"

Silas froze in the doorway. His eyes widened, his face turning a ghostly shade of white. He stared at the sight before him: his stepdaughter, pinned to the bed, her legs wrapped around his stepson, their bodies joined in a wet, messy rhythm.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the sound of Lucas’s heavy breathing and the slow, rhythmic *slap* of his hips against mine one last time before he stiffened and came, filling me with a hot, triumphant load.

Lucas didn't pull away immediately. He looked over his shoulder at Silas, a slow, cruel smirk spreading across his lips.

"Hey, pops," Lucas panted, his voice dripping with malice. "You're just in time for the finale."