by Jessa Kane
“Ohhh,” I moan at the new sensation. “That feels s-so good.”
Grant’s hands slide under my bottom and grip my cheeks, lifting my lower body up toward his ravaging mouth. He feasts on me like someone eats a lengthwise slice of watermelon and my thighs fall helplessly open to receive his treatment. My usually stoic and exacting stepbrother licks me in a way that is uncharacteristically messy, growling as he drags his tongue up and down, seesawing it between my folds, before targeting my clitoris. He squeezes my backside in a bruising manner, using his hold to ride me up and down his flickering tongue. Up, down, up, down. Sidetosidetosidetoside. I claw at the door, the seat, my hair. It’s a divine torture I’m being subjected to and the orgasm slams into me so fast, my back is propelled off the seat with the force of my scream.
“Grant!”
I’ve been shot into another level of existence, my flesh quickening and trembling with the intensity of my peak. While I whimper and sob, twisting on the seat, Grant continues to lap at me, kissing up the moisture coating my upper thighs and sex. He massages my bottom rhythmically, groaning at my taste and pumping his lap against the seat. Looking down at his beloved head, I have the feeling nothing is ever going to be the same again.
I have no idea how right I am.
When Grant carries my limp body, wrapped in his jacket, into the penthouse ten minutes later, I find out nothing has been what it seems.
CHAPTER FIVE
When Grant carries me into the penthouse, the place is in utter shambles.
Artwork has been torn off the walls, fist-sized holes punched clear through the middle. Furniture is upended, mirrors are shattered and glass shards lie in piles everywhere.
“Who did this?” I say in alarm, my hand curling in his shirt. “Were we robbed?”
“No, princess,” Grant responds, jaw popping. “I was home when security called to report you missing. This is my handiwork.”
“Oh.” I lay my head on his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Possessions can be replaced. You can’t.”
Warmth settles in my middle and I smile into his neck, getting a low grunt in response.
I’ve never been invited inside Grant’s bedroom before, so when he casually carries me in that direction, I perk up with excitement. I bet it’s super monotone, with lots of dark, manly colors and a work station. Maybe a pullup bar and an exercise area, too, since he’s in wicked amazing shape. Not that he’s ever taken his clothes off in front of me, but his corded forearms and tight buns suggest he manages to squeeze in gym time on the regular.
Wait a minute. Am I going to see him with his clothes off now?
I glance up at his face, but he gives away nothing. Although…do I detect the ghost of a smile? Yes, I think I do.
I’m prepared for an expensive yet tasteful man-dwelling when Grant kicks open the door to his bedroom—and that’s what I get. Mostly. What I never expected was for the walls to be covered in paintings. Of me. I’ve been painted while studying, while leaning over the railing of the balcony, smiling impishly at Grant as we play a game of chess. My mind is playing catch up, trying to absorb what I’m seeing, when the largest painting of all draws my attention. There is a fireplace straight ahead and above it, a painting stretches all the way to the vaulted ceiling. In it, I’m lying in a bed, sheets twisted strategically around my body to cover my private parts. Just barely. My blonde hair fans out around me, my eyes beckoning whoever looks at the painting closer.
“In a way, I guess you could say we’ve been falling asleep together every night.” Grant sets me down gently on his huge king bed, easing the coat off and once again leaving me in nothing but my short, plaid skirt and socks. “Now I’ll get to hold you for real.” He laughs quietly, averting his gaze. “Provided you’re not scared of me after I finish explaining everything.”
I lean back on my hands and watch his hungry eyes rake over my bare breasts. “I could never be scared of you, Grant,” I murmur, meaning it with my whole heart. “Never.”
After running his touch up my thighs, he steps away and crosses to a liquor cart, pouring amber liquid into a tumbler and taking a long sip. “Come with me and we’ll find out.”
My pulse skips a little at his ominous tone, but I slide off the bed and follow Grant toward a short hallway at the back of his bedroom. It leads to a single door and he hesitates before pushing it open, gesturing for me to go inside. I hear him swallow hard as I pass…into a room full of monitors. It takes me a few moments to realize what I’m seeing. On one monitor, the inside of my Time Management classroom is displayed. On another, my aerobics gym at school. The rear seat of the SUV that transports me to finishing school and back is shown on another.
My bed. The desk where I do my classwork.
Not my bathroom, thankfully.
But everywhere else is there, documenting my days, second by second.
I think I’m supposed to be righteously angry. I think to most people this would be wrong. An invasion of privacy. I can’t account for why it makes liquid heat pool between my thighs. Or why it makes me feel so secure and loved and happy. I almost can’t stand how much. I want to rub my cheeks on the glowing screens and laugh. Grant has been right beside me, caring for me, every single moment of the last year. This is how a man who thrives on control needs to love his woman. And wrong or right, I love being under his control. Because I know the truth.
The truth is, I have all the control.
I won’t wield my power often, but a single tear from my eye can shatter his world, so I’ll let him watch me on his cameras and keep me safe. It’s only fair.
Grant’s breath on my neck makes my head fall back on a moan. He pulls me up on my toes with a forearm and locks my backside to his lap, stroking his tongue up my neck.
“I’m obsessed with every breath out of your mouth, Sienna. Every blink of your big eyes. Every smile, pout and giggle. Your heart, your humor, your logic and compassion. I see it all from this room. This room where I’ve suffered, fucking my hand every night like an animal, waiting for this day.” He wraps my hair in a fist and pulls, baring his teeth against the flesh beneath my ear. “Tonight you’ll take away Daddy’s pain.”
A shiver passes through me, carrying with it a sense of rightness. I’m in the exact right place I’m supposed to be. “What would you do if all the cameras made me run?
His fingertips bite into my waist. “I’d catch you.”
I circle my bottom against his thick bulge, grinding back and making him groan. “Would you let me go if I kicked and screamed?”
He pulls me up higher and tighter against his body, his breath coasting over my neck as both of us survey the wall of monitors. “Which answer would you like?” His right hand drops to reach up under my skirt to grab hold of my sex. “The truth? Or a lie that will let me keep the illusion of being a gentleman where you’re concerned?”
My nipples harden into tight puckers. “Take me to bed, please,” I gasp.
His finger tucks between the lips of my womanhood and gives my clitoris one light stroke before he takes his hand back. “We’re not done, princess.”
I sway and he catches me. “Oh?”
Grant walks me forward toward the desk that is positioned in front of the monitors. Without turning around, I sense him reaching into his jacket pocket. And then he’s reaching around to set down two brochure-sized envelopes in front of me. I pick up the first one and open it, frowning over the certificate that slides out into my hand. My name is on the top and beneath are several lines of legal jargon. “What is this?”
“That’s the deed to the private island I bought you,” he murmurs into my hair, his hands riding up my hips and waist to fondle my breasts. “Look at the date.”
“This…” After finding out I own an island, I can barely concentrate on anything, but I study the small printed numbers in the upper right hand corner of the page. “You bought me an island the same day we met?”
“Yes. And we’re going there tomorrow f
or a month. That’s why you needed the summer clothes, though I doubt you’ll be wearing any of it.” With a sob, I try to turn around and throw myself into Grant’s arms, but he holds me still. “Open the other one first, Sienna.”
Desperate to be held by Grant, I rush through opening the second envelope. This one, I understand on sight. It’s the legal documentation naming Grant Foster as my guardian. The term begins the day we met and… “It ended when I turned eighteen.”
Grant confirms with a gruff sound. “Sienna.” He turns me around, his brow furrowed as he searches for words. “You were mine the day we met. When I found out how carelessly you’d been raised by your mother…I couldn’t believe anyone would treat you so poorly. You’d been pawned off on strangers your whole life and there she was, about to do it again. I couldn’t allow it to happen, so I became your guardian. I intercepted your mother at the airport and called in a favor, refusing to let their plane take off to Paris until the paperwork was signed. I needed you to be mine, in every single sense of the word. Except one.” His mouth interlocks with mine. “I knew I had to wait to be inside you.”
My stepbrother cups my backside, boosting me up and I wrap my legs around his waist with a whimper. “Why?”
Again, he struggles for the right words. “My guardianship over you ended when you turned eighteen, yes, but the contract dates kept me in control of your assets and trust fund from your mother until yesterday. I couldn’t sleep with you when you were financially dependent on me, badly as I wanted to. That would have been taking advantage. And I’ve had a lot of dishonorable thoughts about you, Sienna. Far too many to name. But I couldn’t allow my actions to match those thoughts. The day we met, I vowed to treat you with care. Like you’ve deserved all along. It’s why I stayed away for the last five days. I didn’t trust myself anymore—and I’m so sorry I hurt you in the process.” He turns and walks us back into the hallway, toward the bedroom. “I want my future wife to know I acted with as much honor as I could. Your assets are no longer in my control. They’re yours. You have independence if you want it, but I’m asking…no, I’m begging my future wife to choose me all on her own.”
“Future wife?” I breathe. “Aren’t you worried what people will think when you marry your stepsister?”
“I only care about your judgment,” he says. “And thankfully, I have enough money to tell anyone who runs their mouth to fuck off.” He searches my face. “Choose me, Sienna. Out loud.”
“I choose you. I want to be your wife,” I whisper ardently, nuzzling his neck. “And…”
“Yes?” he prompts hoarsely.
I hide my face in his shoulder. “Take care of me like I’m your little girl.”
A fierce rumbled passes through him. “Until death, Sienna.”
We reach the balcony doors of Grant’s bedroom and he throws them open to reveal a fireworks display happening over the Hudson. Pinks and whites and purples—just for me. All the buildings along the skyline are lit up with pink lights in their windows and it’s the most breathtaking sight I’ve ever seen.
“It’s all for you, princess.” He slings a forearm under my bottom, freeing his left hand to produce one final item from his jacket pocket. A pink diamond ring set among several smaller stones. “Be mine forever.”
I start to shake as he slides the heavy engagement ring onto my finger. The reflection of the fireworks goes off in its depths and a tear rolls down my cheek. “Yes. Yes.”
Before the final yes is spoken, Grant’s mouth finds mine in a voracious kiss. Both of his big hands find my backside again and mold me roughly. “I’m going to make love to you now, Sienna,” he rasps, striding toward the bed. “And I don’t know if I can be gentle after waiting this long.”
When he throws me down on my back and shreds my uniform skirt in his hands with a growl, I have to agree. But I don’t want gentle. “I’ve been waiting as long as you have,” I say, watching him unbutton his shirt and strip it off to reveal hard-packed muscles—and my name in black, block-lettered ink across his rigid stomach. “Grant,” I whisper in awe, trembling when he drops his dress pants and kicks them aside, climbing on the bed and aligning his hard, hot body with mine.
Before he can kiss me, he stops, a mere breath away from my lips. “Is that really what you want to call me, Sienna?”
“No,” I admit on a rush of breath, writhing beneath him on the soft mattress. “What does it mean that I want to call you Daddy?”
“It means you sense what I’ve always known.” He angles his body to the side and trails a hand down my shuddering stomach. “You’re my little girl. Your pussy belongs to one man…” With two fingers, he gathers wetness from inside my slick folds and starts a slow, circular massage of my clitoris. “And that man keeps you safe and buys you pretty toys. He kisses you every morning. Makes sure the boys stay away. And at night, he comes to play.”
My pulse pounds in my ears, my toes curling into the luxurious bedding. How could I not know this is what I’ve been craving without realizing it for so long? I love having my own thoughts and feelings and opinions, but the idea of being doted on and spoiled by this man…it means I’m safe and loved and I need those things to be complete. Grant is the only one who could make letting go, letting someone else take charge all right.
“How do we play, Daddy?”
Grant bares his teeth and slowly sinks a finger inside me. I suck in a breath and squirm around the intrusion. Wanting more and less pressure, all at the same time. “Too tight. I can’t wait another second.” He hooks his finger and tickles a spot inside of me that brings a cry of his name to my lips. “We play hard, little girl. Sometimes I will put you in a pretty dress and tease your pussy for hours, getting harder and harder as you giggle and try to squirm away, but tonight is kind of like…a test.”
I give Daddy a wide-eyed look as he pushes me onto my back and shoves down the waistband of his briefs, that large appendage between his legs bobbing free. Wanting to be a good girl, I open my thighs like I know he wants. “What kind of test, Daddy?”
He pushes the head of his long, thick erection inside of me and stops, his chest heaving with visible need. “We’re going to find out if you want me to be happy,” he gasps.
“Of course I do.”
His lips press mine open, his tongue entering me in a long, dizzying stroke. His kiss makes something tighten in my belly, but above all makes me feel cherished. “I’ll be so happy if I can get my cock extra deep inside you, princess. It might hurt a little, but you’d make me feel so good. Better than I’ve ever felt.”
“Okay.” Chewing my lip, I nod. “I want you to feel good.”
“Of course you do,” he croons into my neck, his hands shoving my knees even wider on the bed, opening me so wide that a blush heats my cheeks. “Good girl. Stay just like that.” His hips rear back and drive forward, breaking through the thin barrier inside me and planting his hard flesh so deep, it must be prodding my stomach. My lungs empty, heels digging into the mattress, but I’m pinned and there’s no way to escape the extreme pressure. “Fuck, that’s so goddamn sweet and tight. Had to protect this hot little cunt from the horny boys, and damn did it pay off,” Daddy groans, grinding against me with his head thrown back. “God, you’re perfect, suctioning my dick like a greedy mouth. Christ. You’ve almost passed the test, princess.”
“Almost?”
He grunts and pins my wrists above my head, leaving me even more vulnerable. I don’t think I’ll like having even more control taken away when the pain is throbbing between my legs. But something amazing happens. The lack of control makes the pain turn dull, unimportant. What’s more important than pleasing Daddy?
And his moans and slack jaw tell me he’s extra pleased.
My body thrills in response, sending more moisture to the place where we’re joined.
“Every time I thrust inside you, I feel happier. More and more every time. Give me a brave smile, princess, and let me slide in and out until I get to the end.”
/> “How will I know when you get there?”
He licks a path straight up my throat. “You’ll have a pussy full of Daddy’s love, little girl.”
The words trigger something naughty in me and I not only give him a brave smile, I pump my hips enthusiastically, helping him get closer and closer to end. He loves that. His big chest shudders with an exhalation of my name and his heavy flesh swells inside me, his hands manacling my wrists tighter on the mattress. There’s a twinge of pleasure inside me that moves lower, constricting my womanhood and I whimper, tossing my head on the bed, watching almost blindly as the fireworks continue to bloom just beyond the balcony.
“Oh God,” I sob, the telltale signs of a climax bearing down on me. But not just any climax. The culmination of pleasure, pain and pressure is so much to bear and my body rears up, gasping as I accept Daddy’s cock faster and faster. Salty perspiration drips from his shoulders onto my bouncing breasts and he groans at the sight, pinning me down harder and ramming into me incessantly while I scream and dig my nails into his back.
“Be warned, little girl,” he grates at my temple. “I have no idea what this rampant obsession will become now that I’ve sampled this perfect pussy. I won’t get enough. Ever. But I’m going to ride you into the fucking ground trying to get an ounce of relief.”
His words send the pleasure deeper, spreading it all through my belly and loins until I burst, my orgasm soaking his driving erection, filling the room with wet noises while he continues to enter me in mighty pumps. I’m engulfed in a dizzy spell during which all I can do is absorb the bliss and chant his name over and over and over. “Daddy, Daddy.”
I watch through my pleasure haze as he stiffens above me, groaning so loud it hurts my ears, and then I’m being filled with liquid heat. He thrusts his still-thick flesh into the wonderful mess, creating more of it, sending his love spurting out onto my thighs and the bedclothes.
