by Selena Kitt
“What, my little kisa?” His hand moved higher, massaging. “Anything. Anything at all. Name it and it’s yours.”
“You.” She shifted her hips, almost imperceptibly, aching for him. “You, Daniel. I want you. I want you to make love to me. Love me. Kiss me, touch me—make me yours.”
“I’ve waited so long.” He met her eyes, his heart in them. “So very long…”
She gave him what he’d asked for—she pulled her t-shirt over her head. Her full breasts with tight, pebbled nipples hung heavy as she leaned back on her elbows. She saw the tent in his jeans and ached to touch him.
“Show me you love me as I love you, Papen’ka,” she urged, letting her knees fall completely open for him. “Kiss me, Papa. Taste your daughter. I’m already so wet for you.”
“You call me Papa?” His eyes lit up at her words. “Oh Eva, that makes me so hard for you. It’s so wrong…”
“No, it’s right,” she insisted again, putting her hand over his, massaging her own thigh.
“I’ve wanted you from the first time I saw you.” He swallowed, his gaze on their hands, her thigh, the wet glisten of her pussy. “Just that sweet picture, you smiling at me, the one your mother sent asking if she could bring her pretty daughter with her because she so wanted to come to America. But you didn’t want to come, did you?”
“She had nothing else to do with me.” Eva made a face. “Her burden, she called me. She made me up, forced me to smile, and took that picture to send you. But don’t worry—it was the most attention she paid me all year.”
“I can’t bear it, to think of you unloved.” He frowned.
“Then love me, Papen’ka. Kiss me,” she begged in a low voice that burned her dry throat, reaching for him.
He leaned in, but instead of reaching to touch his lips to hers, he placed his mouth gently on her mound, kissing her there instead. Her hips jerked and her breath caught. Eva let out a low moan when he used his big, calloused hands like weights, pressing her legs further apart so he could kiss each swollen fold of her pussy. She cried out when his lips lightly brushed her clit, her pussy pulsing, stomach fluttering and clenching. He kissed her—just kisses, light and loving—again and again, leaving no inch of skin untouched between her thighs.
Once her hips began to pump, the ache inside her becoming a hot, maddening throb, he lightly traced over her labia with one calloused finger. She cried out, a strangled sound. Finally, the rough pad of his first finger came to rest on her clit. Moving in circles as the thumb of his other hand pulled back on the hood, he coaxed the sensitive nub out. Leaving her panting on the precipice of orgasm, his finger fell to her opening. A cry escaped her, a tiny squeak before she covered her mouth with her hand. She fell flat on her back. He circled around her opening too, toying with her until her lips pursed together, lest she wake the house—or the dead—with her mounting screams.
Her hips shook as he circled, moving his finger inch by miniscule inch inside of her. Her inner walls grasped at him, tried in vain to pull him deeper. Then, as he got closer and closer to that soft spot inside that she thought just might shatter her whole body, even the world around her, into a million pieces, he slowly removed his finger. Before she could protest, his tongue entered. Darting in and out, moving up to flick over her clit, his palms opened her wet folds, leaving her more exposed than she’d ever been.
“Papen’ka, pozhaluysta. Papa, please,” she repeated her plea in English. “I need more, Papen’ka. I need you inside of me.”
He moved off the bed then, undoing the button and pulling down the zipper of his jeans. Toeing off his shoes, pulling off his socks, he slid the denim from his body. His erection stood out, strong, virile. It bobbed as he moved toward the bed and she couldn’t help reaching her hand out for it. He moaned when she grasped it in her fist, moving her hand up and down his length, like she’d seen him do. She could see all of him now, every glorious inch of the man’s toned, taut body, and his cock was far from a disappointment up close.
“Let me taste you.” She rolled to her side, urging him to move closer, his hand moving in her hair as she licked her lips, glancing up at him for permission. But she didn’t need it. She clearly already had it as he moved his hips forward, nudging her lips open with the head of his cock.
“Ohhh Papa,” she whispered, running her tongue around the head, tasting him, peppery, tangy. She swallowed his length, hearing the growl in his voice as he thrust himself between her lips again and again. She was eager for him, hungry, even greedy, reaching around and grabbing his ass to pull him in deeper. It made her gag but she didn’t care. She wanted all of him, as much of him as she could possibly get.
“Ahhh Eva, easy!” He gasped, easing his cock from between her red, swollen lips. “Don’t make me come yet.”
“Oh, but I want your cum,” she protested, pouting as he climbed onto the bed with her.
“I’m going to give it to you,” he assured her in Russian, on all fours over her, pausing to run his hand over her face, forehead to cheek. He looked at her as if she were too good to be true, as if she were beautiful, as if she mattered. Never had she felt this kind of love from anyone. Never like this. “I’m going to fill your sweet little pussy so full of my cum, you’ll be able to taste it in your throat.”
Hearing him talk dirty in Russian did her in completely.
Eva moaned and kissed him, raking her teeth along his lower lip, sucking at his tongue like she had his cock. She couldn’t get enough of this man. A thick cloud of lust swirled around them, so thick it made her skin tingle and she felt lit from the inside out. He lowered his body onto hers, face buried in her neck, his hard chest pressed against her sensitive nipples, his hard cock pushed against her soft waist, and his legs pressed against hers, nudging hers open until she wrapped hers around him.
She used her heels and calves to pull him to her, clinging, fighting for breath as he nipped at her neck, scraping his teeth on the sensitive skin of her throat and soothing it with hot lashes of his tongue.
“Papa, please,” she begged him, her pussy throbbing with need. “I want you to fuck me. Will you fuck your baby girl? Your little kitten?”
She whispered these words to him in Russian, a rough, guttural language that made him thrust against her softness as if he could enter her through her navel.
“Take me!” she cried, reaching down to grasp him, aim him. She curved her body, hollowed her soft belly until his erection was nestled in her sweet, wet folds. They both gasped together at the sensation as he slipped slowly inside her, the engorged head of his cock settling snugly in her slick, warm hole.
“Oh fuck.” He tensed, biting his lip, eyes half closed as he looked at her. “You’re so tight. Oh fuck, Eva, you’re so fucking—”
“Tight?” She squeezed him with her muscles, making him groan and grit his teeth. “Tighter than her?”
“There’s no comparison.” He snorted a half-laugh. “Besides—it’s you I love, Eva. You. It’s always been you.”
He began to thrust. They soon found a rhythm, one unsettled with need. The fire in the moment left her breathless as her blood, pumping like molten lava through her veins, made her heart thump hard in her chest, a heavy beat, in time with his. She thrashed and writhed under him, wanting more, needing more, but he held back, making her wait.
His body, his core, was so strong, He resisted even the pull of her legs, not giving in to her desires as quickly as her body demanded. He told her he loved her. He told her he wanted her. Sometimes he kissed her ear when he whispered the words, sometimes he nipped, or licked. He told her in English—then he told her in Russian. He repeated his desire again and again in a deep, steady baritone that curled her toes and flooded her heart as his body gloriously invaded her.
“Please,” she begged, meeting each thrust with one of her own. “Fuck me harder, Papa! Fill my pussy! Fill me with your cum!”
He cried out at her words, shaking his dark head, as if he could deny her.
“Do it for me, Papa,�
� she whispered, taking every inch of him, her pussy clenching already, so close. So very close. “Give me everything I ever wanted.”
“Oh my sweet daughter,” he moaned, rolling his hips as he drove into her, deep and hard, thrusting down against the mattress as if he could press her right through it. “I’m going to come! Are you ready for Papa’s cum?”
“Yes!” she gasped and clutched at him, her nipples hardening like glass against his chest at those words, opening herself up to him completely. “Ohhhh Papa, I’m going to come tooo…”
“Good girl,” he gasped in her ear as they rocked. She buried her face in his neck, biting down hard to stifle her screams as she came, knowing there were servants somewhere in the house who might hear them. “Oh Eva, sweet Eva, come for me! Come for me! Fuck! Baby! I’m coming!”
Her pussy convulsed and contracted around him, milking his beautiful cock. The world stopped. Eva’s vision clouded with a bright light, her body trembling all over as she felt each throbbing pulse of her Papa’s cock. He exploded inside her, quivering, body taut and hard against hers as he emptied himself completely into her pulsing wetness. She felt him collapse against her as they both began to come down from such an incredible high.
“My nymphet, my beautiful Lolita, my daughter, my lover,” he murmured as his eyes closed and he rested his cheek against hers.
No drug or drink she’d ever tried had taken her to this height before. She knew, as he collapsed onto her, their bodies still going through tiny convulsions as the last remnants of their bliss trickled through them in post-coital tremors, that nothing in her life would ever be the same again, not now that she’d actually made love to the only man she’d ever known as a father. She’d taken him as her everything.
“Don’t leave me,” she begged as he rolled to his side.
As if in answer, he turned her and pulled her back to his stomach, spooning with her, his softening cock snug against her ass.
“An alarm?” She murmured as her body went limp in his arms, the heat they’d generated relaxing every muscle she had, turning her to putty in his hands.
“No. I have one in my head. Haven’t been late for work in over ten years,” he muttered through a contented yawn.
She wiggled in closer even though it wasn’t physically possible, and they slept.
The slamming of a door shook Eva from her slumber, bringing her back to the world where she lay nestled in Papa’s warm arms, the smell of their lovemaking lingering on the sheets. The smile that began to form on her face quickly vanished as realization set in.
“Daniel,” she whispered, struggling against his sleepy, heavy hold, turning to wake him. “My mother’s home! She’s in your room!”
His head shot up and she watched him, wide-eyed, as he looked over her shoulder.
“It’s noon,” he said, reading her clock out loud. “How did we sleep until noon?”
Looking down at her, he cradled her face in his hands. “Don’t worry. At this hour she expects me to be in the stables. If she comes this way, I’ll hide in your closet like a school boy.”
She bit her lip rather than giggle with the thrill of it, of their deception and their love, the emotion still so fresh in his eyes when he looked at her. The thrill of the waiting, the listening for Tatyana’s every move as they cuddled together, left her ready, wanting him again even as he grew hard against her back. The slamming of the bedroom door down the hall made him stiffen against her, ready to spring from her bed if necessary. Yet, without pause, Tatyana walked down the stairs bellowing for help.
They heard more footsteps, more shuffling, followed by Tatyana’s bark for her jacket and purse. When a “Good day, ma’am,” was uttered several long minutes later, Eva and Daniel sighed in relief, rising from the bed.
“Stay here,” he insisted, patting her arm before turning to grab for his clothes.
She watched as he wrestled his gorgeous body into clothes and crept out her door. The room took on a sudden chill, real or imagined, it didn’t matter, so she rose to grab some clothes of her own. Pacing, she listened for his footsteps with the patience of a small child. He was taking too long. Finally, she went to his room.
Walking through the open door, she found him sitting on his bed, papers clutched in one hand. He turned to look at her with glazed eyes, an expression she couldn’t quite read.
“What is it? What are those papers?” she asked, unable to hide the panic in her voice.
“Freedom, my dear.” A smile teased the corners of his mouth.
“What do you mean?”
“Your mother has served me with divorce papers.”
“What?”
“All she asks of me—other than a great fortune of course, which she can have and good riddance to them both—is that I release her of her burden, one she claims to have carried for far too long.”
“Me?” Eva gasped. “She wants to be rid of me?”
“I’m sorry Eva.” He frowned. “She doesn’t see past her own needs to find the best in others. You’re over eighteen now. She wants me to set you up in an apartment, pay for your college, and make you work off your debt to me in the stables.”
“What are you sorry for?” Eva felt her body flood with relief. She was light-headed, almost giddy.
“How she treated you,” he replied. “You deserve so much better than she ever offered.”
“Are you kidding?” Eva threw her arms around his neck and plopped down in his lap. “She gave me a father, and now a lover, and dare I hope, a home with someone who loves me, Papen’ka.”
“As wrong as it is, I love when you call me your Papa in your native tongue. My little nymphet, you stay as long as you want. Forever, I hope. We’ll go buy a new bedroom set today and move you into the master bedroom with me. What do you say to that?” He looked at her hopefully, as if she might actually say no. Was he joking?
“I say yes!” Leaning in, she kissed him. Dropping the papers carelessly to the floor, he cupped her cheeks with his hands and kissed her back, branding her as his own, making her lips swell under the harsh brush of his.
Pulling away, leaving her breathless, he said, “No time to waste. Let’s drop off the papers, signed, to my lawyer and then go shopping.”
“Don’t we have a little time?” Eva pouted, wiggling in his lap.
“Well… maybe a little.” He grinned, the papers in his hands dropping to the floor as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Oh no!” Eva hopped up, gathering the papers and setting them aside neatly on the night table. “Have to keep those safe. They’re important.”
“Not as important as you,” he assured her, reaching a hand out. “Now come here and tell me how much you want me.”
She leaped on him, already talking dirty—in Russian, of course.
The End
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The Cougar and Her Cub
The Nudist and His Princess
The Man of the House
ABOUT SELENA KITT
Selena Kitt is a NEW YORK TIMES bestselling and award-winning author of erotic and romance fiction. She is one of the highest selling erotic writers in the business with over a million books sold!
Her writing embodies everything from the spicy to the scandalous, but watch out-this kitty also has sharp claws and her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.
When she's not pawing away at her keyboard, Selena runs an innovative publishing company (excessica.com) and in her spare time, she devotes herself to her family--a husband and four children--and her growing organic garden. She does belly dancing and photography, and she loves four poster beds, tattoos, voyeurism, blindfolds, velvet, baby oil, the smell of leather, and playing kitty cat.
Her books EcoErotica (2009), The Real Mother Goose (2010) and Heidi and the Kaiser (2011) were all Epic Award Finalists. Her only gay male romance, Second Chance, won the Epic Award in Erotica in 2011. Her story, Connections, was one of the runners-up for the 2006 Rauxa Prize, given annually to an erotic short story of "exceptional literary quality," out of over 1,000 nominees, where awards are judged by a select jury and all entries are read "blind" (without author's name available.)
She can be reached on her website at www.selenakitt.com
BONUS EXCERPT
LITTLE BRATS: TINA
By Selena Kitt
Chubby Tina thinks she couldn’t hate herself any more than she already does, when she overhears her skinny mother telling a friend, “We’re going to be stuck with Tina forever. No guy is ever going to want her.” It’s her first year of college, and she vows to move in with a girlfriend instead of stay with her parents anymore. That is, until her stepfather catches her with going out the door in the middle of the night with a suitcase. Tina finally, tearfully confesses, and is surprised by her stepfather’s insight and perspective—and how willing he is to show her just how beautiful and loveable he thinks she really is.
