by Rose, Jenna
Those were the words I began reciting the night I left the house. Her purity…I had to preserve it. Being around her…I would only rub off on her. My demons would become hers. My toxins would seep into her, corrupt her. My sins would haunt her.
I had to leave.
But after what Marla told me on the phone, I have to go back.
Apparently since my departure, Lily has been going on dating apps and talking to boys. She even went out with some of them, and I can’t stop thinking about what may happen. The thought of some other male being her first almost makes me nauseous.
According to Marla, nothing has happened. Yet.
But one boy, Thatcher, has been coming by the house late at night. Marla caught him trying to sneak in the back and tossed him out on his ass. The son of a bitch is lucky I no longer live there.
Marla doesn’t like him, and I trust her judgment. If she says he’s a bad guy; he’s a bad guy. And I’m on my way over there now to make sure he never goes near my angel again.
Pulling up to the old house is like stepping back in time. The last six months have felt like six years to me. Being away from Lily has been torture, and no matter what happens tonight, I can’t let myself see her. Last time I did, I lost all control. And I can’t allow that to happen again.
I see the bastard’s car – a red Mustang that his parents bought him – parked in the shadows up the street. Thinks he’s being slick but has no idea I have security cameras down there too.
I can see him…spiked blond hair and a pink Polo shirt like it’s fifteen years ago. Little fucker has no idea who’s watching him right now.
I could go down there right now and break his face. Tell him to stay the hell away from Lily. But I don’t. Instead, I watch him like a wolf among the shadows. He has his phone out. Texting. Is it Lily? Or just another girl he’s working on?
What is she thinking? This is what happens when a girl doesn’t have a strong man in her life. Her real father was a deadbeat. Marla left him when Lily was 11 and didn’t have another husband until I came along. And now I’m not there for her either.
I can’t be. The consequences are just too great.
The little prick gets out of his car, grinning like he just won the lottery, and stuffs his phone into his pocket.
Are there nudes on there? If Lily was sexting him…
I get out of my car, close my door quietly behind me, and follow him onto my property.
He’s smart. I’ll give him that. He keeps to the shadows and creeps around to the side entrance, which I assume Lily has left unlocked for him.
I’m seeing red, and my rage peaks when I see the little bastard reach into his pocket and pull out a baggy filled with white powder.
The door slides open, spilling golden light onto the cold, damp lawn. His grin expands, widens like a hyena, and when I see Lily poke her face out, I lose all control.
“Son of a bitch!” I roar, springing out of the darkness like a tiger. He turns, but not even a prize fighter could fend me off now.
I catch him by the throat with one hand and slam him onto his back. He swings at me, but I snatch his fist and pin his arm above his head, then press a knee into his chest and pin him beneath me.
“Oh my God, Damon!?” Lily yelps in surprise.
“Do you know who I am?” I roar. Thatcher’s eyes blaze with terror as he does his best to nod as I grip his neck. “You do, don’t you? Then you know what I could do to you if I wanted?”
Again, he nods. I glance over at Lily, who looks terrified.
Christ. She’s so fucking innocent and has no idea what kind of guy she’s just invited into her home.
“I’m not in the habit of letting things slide,” I snarl at Thatcher, who has gone pale as a sheet of ice. “But I will tonight, because she’s here. But if I catch you here again – if I even hear about you talking to her again, I’ll bury you so deep beneath the earth that it will take an archeological team to find your bones. Understand me?”
Thatcher nods as best he can. Reaching into his pocket, I snatch his phone, then rip the baggie of cocaine from his hand.
“You’re lucky I am even letting you keep your car, asshole,” I tell him as I let him up.
“T-thank you!” he stammers before running away like a dog with his tail between his legs. Before he’s even out of earshot, I turn to my stepdaughter.
The light from the house creates an aura behind her. She’s practically glowing like the angel she is.
The silky smooth skin of her thighs is visible, not even remotely hidden by the tiniest pair of shorts I’ve ever seen. Again, she’s wearing one of my T-shirts, one she must have stolen before I left. Her nipples are hard, and I can make out the outline of her perfect tits.
“What is wrong with you!?” I snap, doing my best to control my anger. “Do you have any idea what kind of guy that was?” I hold up the cocaine for her to see. “Did you know he was bringing this?”
“I—no.” She shakes her head. I can read anybody. She’s not lying. “What…what is that?”
“It’s the first step down the wrong path in life.” Still fuming, I step forward and show her Thatcher’s phone. “Did you send him naked pictures?”
“Damon—”
“Did you!?” I roar.
Lily hesitates, and my chest burns. Then she shakes her head. “No.”
A brief wave of relief flows over me, temporarily calming my anger and allowing me to get my focus back. Behind me, I hear the sound of Thatcher’s tires squealing as he heads for the hills.
Lucky, I grit my teeth. He’s so fucking lucky.
“Damon, what are you doing here?”
“Your mother called me,” I reply, trying to lower my voice. She’s scared. She should be. “Said she was worried about you. Said you’ve gone a little bit boy crazy since I left.”
Lily shakes her head, but I can see it in her eyes; everything Marla said was true.
The rage returns.
“What do you care, anyway?” she whimpers. “You left us. You left…me.”
I’m a thinking man. A cold, calculated man whose self-control got me to where I am today. But when it comes to Lily, I’m nothing more than an animal.
She gets the best of me, and I lunge forward and snatch her around the waist. I hoist her over my shoulder as she wriggles and screams and carry her away from the house and back to my car.
“Stop making noise,” I tell her. “No one can hear you. And even if they could, who could try to stop me?”
“Where are you taking me?” she cries out as I toss her down in the back seat.
“It’s obvious you’re out of control,” I growl. “So until you learn how to be a good girl, you’re going to live with me.”
3
Lily
I’ve been kidnapped by my stepdad.
And I’m not sure I’m mad about it…
Damon is the most feared mob boss in Philadelphia. They call him Scar due to the scar on his face that I can only imagine where it came from. Everyone knows about him. He’s violent, cruel and powerful, and while it may sound sick, when I came back from school, I was actually excited to meet him.
And then I did.
I knew from the moment he laid eyes on me that he hated me. Just some dumb teenage girl in his house to get in his way. I could tell he didn’t like the things I wore around the house. He even made a comment about my shorts once.
“Too short,” he said in that tone that meant he should be obeyed. But I’m not one of his men. I’m not his wife, and he’s not my father. I don’t have to do anything he says.
But this time, I did.
Kind of…
I ditched the shorts completely and started wearing T-shirts only. His T-shirts.
What can I say? They’re long, soft, and they smell good. But he didn’t like that either, so I amped things up again and started napping in his bed while he was downstairs in his study. But still he didn’t break. Didn’t cave. Didn’t show a single sign that I
was getting to him.
Until the shower…
A memory that will never escape me. An image that will forever be baked into my mind. Damon Ramone, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, watching me shower while jerking his cock.
It’s strange – no it’s insane that the first…male member I’ve seen would be my stepfather’s.
And all that cum…
Talk about an introduction to the world of sex.
Well, not sex, but the idea of it.
He lit a fire within me, and then he was gone. Like Batman disappearing without a trace. And I was alone again, worse than when my mom shipped me off to boarding school to get rid of me.
At least my dad was honest when he left. My mom likes to pretend she’s doing me a favor when in reality everything she does is about making her life easier. She married Damon for his money and sent me away to New York so she could do whatever she wanted.
I doubt she’ll even realize I’ve gone missing.
“So you want to tell me what the fuck you were thinking?” Damon barks from the front seat, causing me to jump. “Oh, and buckle your seatbelt.”
“Buckle my seatbelt?” I laugh. “Right, because you’re so concerned with my safety.”
“It’s because I’m concerned with your safety that I’m doing this.”
“Doing what?” I reply, folding my arms across my chest. “Ruining my date?”
Damon shakes his head, and I swear I hear a low growl rumble from his chest. “Boy crazy. That’s the kind of girl you are?”
The car accelerates, roaring through the darkness, skeletons of trees whizzing by illuminated by the headlights.
“Kind of girl?”
“A slut.” His voice snaps like the cracking of ice. “Letting boys come over and fuck you?”
“I am not a slut! And Thatcher wasn’t going to fuck me.”
“Oh, he wasn’t?” Damon whips the car into a skid, sending me sliding across the smooth leather seats. I slam into the other door as he slams on the brakes and in an instant is out of the car and grabbing me by the hair.
“Ow!” I yelp as he drags me out and onto the pavement. His grip is unbreakable. I struggle to get to my feet and stumble as he pulls me toward a house I’ve never seen before.
“You think you’re real naughty, don’t you? Think you’ve got it all figured out.”
Damon presses something in his pocket, and the front door beeps and swings open. Clutching his wrist, trying to stop him from tearing all the hair out of my scalp, I stagger into the darkness behind him.
The door slams shut, and the lights spring on, revealing a decadent but minimalist home set with off-whites and grays. It’s cool. Calm. Controlled.
The opposite of me.
I’m buzzing. Every nerve in my body is on high alert, emitting some kind of energy that I’m sure Damon can feel. I should be afraid of a man like him acting in this way, but there’s something about the control he’s exerting over me that’s…comforting.
God, am I insane?
He whirls on me, eyes fierce and commanding. His chest rises and falls, along with his shoulders, but there’s something else I notice.
It’s lower. Thick and prominent between his legs.
A bulge.
At a time like this?
It doesn’t even make any sense. Damon is used to older, more experienced women. Not naïve virgins like me. The most I’ve been able to do with my sexuality is a crappy TikTok dance. Sure, maybe I liked teasing him six months ago when he was still living with us, but I never would have had the guts to follow through.
Or the knowhow…
It’s been strange not having him around the house – as though there’s been a void in my life. But now that we’re back in the same proximity, my body is reacting in ways I could never have expected.
Kind of like how his did before…
“You’re staying here now,” he tells me. “Until I’ve set you straight.”
“Set me straight? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You think I can have my stepdaughter out there throwing her pussy around to any Tom, Dick, or Harry who wants a sniff?”
“Damon!” I gasp, shocked by his candor. “I’m not…throwing my…p around.”
I can see the anger in his eyes. But why? What does he care anyway? He left me. It’s pretty clear he doesn’t want me.
Probably just worried about his reputation.
“Your mother told me all about it,” he scoffs. “Boy crazy. Dating apps. Don’t fucking lie to me when I saw it with my own two eyes.”
“Okay, it was a mistake,” I reply. “That Thatcher guy…I didn’t really like him.”
“So what was he doing at the house?” Damon snaps. “Or are you just that thirsty for attention?”
They say the truth hurts, and that one stings. How does Damon see right through me?
His absence has been hard on me. So maybe I have some daddy issues, and having my real dad abandon me and my stepdad walk out on me hasn’t been that great on my mental health. Maybe I did need some attention, and maybe I’ve been seeking it in all the wrong places.
“Did you think the news wouldn’t get back to me?” he asks, stepping forward.
I was hoping it would.
The bulge in his pants is obvious. Is it petty that I feel powerful knowing I did that to him? I haven’t stopped thinking of that time I caught him spying on me in the shower. I must think about it daily – if not more.
But if he wanted me then, why did he leave? Why hasn’t he taken me now? My mom’s gone. There’s no one here to stop him.
As if that would matter anyway. Damon is an outlaw, the king of his own country. No one stops him from doing anything.
Naughty thoughts swim like sharks in my mind. Things I’ve never thought of before.
Simply being back in Damon’s presence has me losing control. My body is humming with anticipation. I’m waiting for him to do something. But all he does is stand there…staring. His eyes narrow like a predator’s.
God, this is so wrong…
I’m literally lusting after my stepfather. I know his marriage to my mother isn’t one of love, but they must have consummated it at some point…
…right?
I’m so fucked up.
Thankfully, it doesn’t seem as though he wants me now.
“Come,” he barks. Yes, please. “I’ll show you to your room.”
He turns away from me and walks as though I’m expected to follow. Like a dog. And like an obedient puppy, I do. I don’t know why I do. It’s as though he has a chain extending from his body to mine, and I’ve been linked to it since we first met. And now, like a fisherman, he’s starting to reel me in.
Parts of my body begin to tingle as I watch him. To those guys out there that don’t know, we girls like butts too, and Damon’s is incredible. He must spend hours in the gym keeping his body toned and sculpted, and as I follow him up the stairs, my mouth begins to water, and a hint of a terrible desire begins to form between my legs.
God, I can’t want this.
I feel like I should say something as I follow him to my room, which looks more like a designer prison cell than a bedroom, but my lips don’t seem to want to move. Even when he turns around and addresses me, I’m struck dumb like a deer in headlights.
“You will sleep here,” he says gruffly. “You may use the rest of the house. Certain areas will be locked and off-limits to you, and you will not be able to leave. My men have been told and there are surveillance cameras that will be watching you at all times.”
As he tries to walk past me, somehow my faculties return to me, and I manage to speak. “Watching me?” I ask. “Like you watched me before, Daddy?”
Damon stops in his tracks but keeps his eyes on the wall behind me. His bulge is as clear as day, and I can’t help but feel proud of myself for being the one responsible. Damon must have had countless gorgeous women in his life, yet innocent-little-ol’-me is doing that to him.<
br />
Desire rushes up inside me like a car slamming into me from behind. I don’t know how, but somehow I find the courage to reach out and touch his barrel chest with a fingertip.
“I’ve never stopped thinking about it, Damon,” I whisper. “That time when you watched me…”
“Don’t,” Damon replies, the tone of his voice almost scary. His body is tight, coiled as though he’s about to lash out at any moment.
“Don’t what?” I trace the line of his chest, feeling the warm, smooth muscle beneath the silk of his shirt.
“Don’t remind me. I never should have done…what I did. It was wrong. I succumbed to my base instincts. I didn’t think about…you.”
“About me…” My heart sinks. “So it was just your deep, dark, male desires that you were acting on?”
I sigh a heavy sigh and let my hand fall like a dead leaf in autumn.
“This is inappropriate,” he says. “You are my stepdaughter and I am your stepfather—”
“Step,” I remind him.
“I’m more than twice your age. I’m a gangster—”
Damon’s eyes flicker to me briefly then return to the wall. I can see the fight within him.
“I’m not a little girl, Damon,” I tell him. “And I’m not your real daughter.”
Where is this coming from? A confidence I’ve never known is rearing its head. Something snaps inside me, and I do something I never could have anticipated or planned. I step forward and press my breasts against Damon’s chest.
My nipples are hard. I know he feels it. I feel his bulge pressing against my lower stomach, tantalizing me with terrible, naughty desires. Yeah, I have daddy issues, and I’m proud of it.
“You’re my stepdaughter,” Damon whispers again. I can hear his resolve failing. There’s a pulse against my skin as his bulge swells, and the buzzing sensation I’ve been feeling increases, as though a pure electrical current is coursing through his body to mine.
“Damon—”
“Stop,” he growls. “Or I’m going to have to punish you.”
I melt. Hard. All rational thought leaves my mind, and only my basic urges are left standing.
“What right do you have to punish me?” I giggle. “You gave up being my daddy six months ago.”
