Page 182 of Wanting What's Wrong

His hand slides over my ass, down my thigh, then back up to cup my heat.

“You need to come, baby girl?”

“Please,” I whisper. “Yes, please, Daddy.”

That’s all it takes.

He sinks to his knees behind me, and the first swipe of his tongue makes me cry out.

He eats like he’s starving. Like I’m his last meal. Like he needs my pussy to live.

“Such a good girl,” he groans, his voice muffled by my flesh. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet.”

I grip the counter harder. My legs shake. I’m close. So close I could scream.

“Don’t you come yet,” he growls. “Not till I’m inside you.”

I sob. “Please. I need it.”

He stands. One hand on my hip, the other sliding between my thighs to rub slow circles.

“I said no,” he growls. “You’ll take Daddy’s cock first. You’ll come when I say.”

He unzips, the sound a low rasp that feels like it vibrates right through every layer of skin and flesh right into my bones. Not gentle. Not hesitant.

“You think you’re gonna die if you don’t get what you want when you want it? Such a dramatic little girl. Always were.”

“A few minutes isn’t exactly cruel. I’ll live.” I add a bored sigh on the end.

He chuckles, a sound that sends a shiver down my spine. “Oh, darling, you have no idea what I consider cruel.” He tests the tightness, his thick head nudging my entrance. “So fucking tight. Been saving yourself for your old man, have you?”

My thighs tremble, already slick. A shameful, desperate wetness to the idea that he’s the father I never had and now, he’s going to fuck me like he owns me.

“You knew. Don’t pretend this is a surprise.”

He pushes forward a little more and I wince, my insides clenching. “You think I didn’t keep an eye on you when I was gone? I have people. You remember seeing a guy in a blue Chevy with flames down the sides? Tall guy, fifties, ball cap.”

I do. I wondered if he was coming around for my mom.

A shudder runs through me, starting in my toes. “You were stalking me from prison?”

“You bet your ass.”

More pressure, more pain, separating me, easing inside while I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Been a good girl for me while I was away. I was fucking patient, waiting for you.”

My breath hitches. It isn’t painful, not yet, but it is…intense. A stretching, a pulling, like a blunt instrument trying to push somewhere it shouldn’t be.

My muscles clench around him, a desperate attempt to hold onto the last vestiges of my girlhood.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” I breathe. “I want to feel it. I want to remember it.”

He shifts, stretching me further. “I’ll do this how I want to do this.”

My hips arch instinctively. “God, I’m so… I need it. Like a breath I can’t take, please,please.”

He chuckles, a low rumble that vibrates through me. “That’s my good girl.”

---