Unholy Desires: Erotica Collections

Step-Dad's Forbidden Craving: 2

The door creaked open, a sliver of hallway light cutting across my bed like a knife. My heart slammed against my ribs, breath caught in my throat as Marcus slipped inside, his broad frame filling the space. He shut the door with a soft click, locking it, and the darkness swallowed us whole except for the faint glow from my bedside lamp. I pushed the sheets down, exposing my naked body—legs parted just enough to show the slick shine between my thighs, n*****s hard peaks begging for his touch.

He stood there for a beat, eyes raking over me, his chest rising and falling heavy under that worn t-shirt. The bulge in his sweatpants was impossible to miss, thick and straining.

“Riley,” he growled, voice low and rough, like gravel under boots. He crossed the room in two strides, yanking his shirt over his head to reveal the hard planes of his chest, dusted with dark hair that trailed down to his waistband.

I sat up, reaching for him, fingers hooking into the elastic of his pants. “I've been waiting,” I whispered, tugging them down. His c**k sprang free, heavy and veined, the head already leaking pre-c*m that glistened in the dim light. It was bigger than I'd imagined during all those stolen glances—thick enough to stretch me wide, curving slightly up like it was made to hit deep. I wrapped my hand around the base, feeling it throb hot against my palm, and stroked up slow, thumb smearing the slick tip.

Marcus hissed, grabbing my wrist but not stopping me. “f**k, baby girl. You don't know what you're asking for.” His free hand cupped my tit, squeezing rough, thumb flicking the n****e until I arched into him. He bent down, mouth latching onto the other one, sucking hard—teeth grazing, tongue lashing wet circles that sent jolts straight to my core. I moaned, loud enough that I bit my lip to stifle it, p***y clenching with need.

He shoved me back onto the pillows, climbing over me, knees pinning my thighs apart. His beard scratched my skin as he kissed down my neck, biting the spot he'd marked earlier, making it throb anew. “Gonna f**k you raw tonight,” he muttered against my collarbone, hand sliding between my legs. Two fingers plunged into my soaked p***y without warning, curling up to stroke that spot inside that made stars burst behind my eyes. I bucked against him, walls gripping tight, cream coating his knuckles as he pumped in and out, thumb grinding my c**t.

“Please, Marcus,” I gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. “I need your c**k. Fill me up.” He chuckled dark, withdrawing his fingers to slap my p***y lightly—once, twice—making me whine and spread wider. He gripped his shaft, rubbing the head along my slit, teasing my entrance, coating himself in my juices. The pressure built, his tip nudging in just enough to stretch me, then pulling back, over and over until I was trembling.

Finally, he thrust forward, burying half his length in one brutal push. I cried out, the burn of the stretch mixing with pure bliss as he bottomed out, balls slapping my ass. He froze, buried deep, letting me adjust, his forehead pressed to mine. “So tight. Like you were made for Daddy's dick.” Then he started moving—slow at first, dragging out, then slamming back in, hips snapping with force that shook the bedframe.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, heels digging into his back, meeting every thrust. His c**k hit deep, pounding my cervix with each drive, the wet sounds of skin on skin filling the room. Sweat slicked our bodies, his grunts mixing with my whimpers as he f****d me harder, one hand bracing beside my head, the other pinching my n****e, twisting until it hurt so good. “Take it,” he ordered, voice strained. “Take every inch like the slut you are.”

I came first, shattering around him—p***y spasming, milking his c**k as waves crashed through me, toes curling, back arching off the mattress. He didn't stop, pounding through it, chasing his own release. “Gonna c*m inside you,” he warned, thrusts erratic now, c**k swelling thicker. With a final, deep shove, he groaned low, flooding me—hot spurts painting my walls, leaking out around him as he kept grinding, drawing it out.

We collapsed together, his weight heavy and comforting, c**k still twitching inside me. He kissed my temple, soft for the first time, but I knew this was just the start. The craving burned hotter now, and tomorrow? We'd find new ways to feed it.