by Dark Angel
"Come for me, baby girl," I growl against her tender flesh, and I dip a finger inside her tight, virgin pussy to feel just how wet and plump she is for me. Her squeezing on my finger has me palming my cock for a second and squeezing my eyes shut for a second to keep me focused on following through.
Following through with not tearing off my slacks and burying myself so deep inside of her that the neighbors hear her scream out.
I want to think about first how I want to crush her screams with my mouth on hers, but that word neighbors stops me in my tracks. This will get louder, and I need to make sure the fucking door is locked. A wicked thought courses through my mind, and I suppose there's some twinkle in my eyes that betrays just that. A lusty thrill shadows her eyes when she locks her gaze with mine. Stroking her g-spot, I ride out her orgasm and never break my look deep into her tender, coffee-colored eyes. The trust mingling with the pleasure on her face is like nothing I've experienced in my life. No matter what the hell happens, I will never forget that look. I drink it in, and it quenches my dark thirst for her just enough to make my monster inside roar and demand more.
I may be ruining Tara, but she’s sure as fuck ruining me for anyone, too.
When her orgasm has died down, I withdraw my fingers and my face, rubbing some of her juices off my face, but not all of them. I kiss her so she can taste how sweet her pussy is. I don’t want to her to be anything but aroused, but I know she’s severely lacking in any sexual experience. But she has a natural, non-puritanical sexuality about her even though she’s never been touched.
You know, until me, her fucking stepfather, planned to sink her down on his cock while I locked the door. Pressing her against the fridge door had emblazoned how good it would feel to have her against a hard, ungiving surface while on my hard, pulsing cock. Pumping into her and feeling the every quake of her body against me. I’d practically turned into a teenager thinking about it, my cock ready to bust through his slacks or at least ready to stickify them.
Slowly, watching Tara watching me, I undid my belt. Took off my shirt. Yanked off my slacks. Tore down my boxer briefs.
Oh, poor Tara. Baby girl’s eyes were wide when I stroked my huge erection and looked at her. This wasn’t just pride, I’d had girlfriends in college that told me that my cock was too big for them to take. Tara had no reference and likely thought every cock was too big for her little virgin pussy…so I was ready to fuck her right out of that notion and fill her up with my massive cock until I utterly owned that pussy.
Pulling her dress over her head next, I was so pleased that she’d kept her panties on for me this whole time. I released her from their bondage, kissing and rubbing where she’s gotten little lines of redness from the pressure she’d put on them. Tasting her sweet, soft skin, I thought about other little red lines I'd mar her skin with some other time. When my lips touched her skin, my fingers, everything made her tremble. I saw her eyes hooded with lust. Her shaking wasn't about nerves anymore; it was about how I was overloading her with new sensations.
And then I grabbed that silky body and pressed her against me. I kissed her, deeper, slower, savoring her warmth and her passion. My fingers stroked from the base of her neck to the tip of her spine, up and down, worshiping every inch of her perfect skin, but when it was time to let baby girl breathe, I wasn’t going to wait anymore.
Gripping her ass firmly, I dug my fingers into the globes of her tight ass and pulled her up, then down, lining that dripping pussy up with my steel-hard cock. I walked her over to the door, pressing her against it and pressing my cock against her opening. She shivered in anticipation but didn’t try to move me from where I was. Those trusting big, Bambi mocha eyes looked up into mine. I checked the knob for locking the door, and I pressed her down onto my cock. Tara’s eyes widened again. Pressing her down further, I saw no pain, and I lowered her down on my cock until my whole cock was sheathed in her. I held that stance for a moment, kissing her tenderly and not moving inside of her. I felt her body stretching to take me, getting used to my cock filling her up. I trailed kisses on her neck, and with her pressed up against the door I brought my hands to her breasts. I cupped them whole. Ready to thrust in and somewhat out of her, not wanting to overwhelm her too much, I started a slow pump and closed my mouth over her breast. Her nipple between my teeth, I asked in earnest, “Y’okay, baby girl?”
“Y-yes,” she moaned in an overwhelmed little voice. I could unload inside of her right now, damn near, at the way she sounded. At her sweet body so completely mine.
Fuck.
Fuck.
The more okay she was the harder I started pumping into her, bringing one hand to entwine with her hair and cradle her head and the other to hold her ass. I didn’t want any bruises on this perfect skin yet.
20
Tara
"Unnh, fuuuuck," I moaned in a low, breathy voice. Marcus was so deep inside me, and it felt like I was on fire, everywhere. I could have been electrocuted with the lust permeating me. My nipples hurt, I wanted his hands on them so badly, and all my skin felt wrong without him touching it. His hands were all over me but I was grinding against him and squeezing him up. I would never get enough of him touching me.
Please, please Daddy, don’t stop. My mind cried out in unison with my body but all that escaped my mouth were moans, groans, sighs, and the occasional expletive.
I thought I might be sore in the morning, the consuming way that he pressed into me so deeply and then we slammed back together, all so fast that I was shocked that it was a human speed. Marcus was strong, I knew, but the endurance, stamina...fuck.
No one does it like Daddy. Christ, it was a wicked thought but I liked it. Stepdaddy was the one who'd shown me everything, and now he was making my first time so, so, perfect.
Summoning some of my strength to tangle my fingers in his hair, I wiggled my ass up and held him close to me with my whole body. I nuzzled my face to the scruff of his burgeoning five o'clock shadow before pressing my lips against his and kissing him. First, it was so tender, my lips against his, our heat between us everything. Then I ran my tongue over the seam of his lips, and he let me in. My tongue lavished over his, worshiping him the way his cock was making my pussy all his.
His.
I never wanted to be anything but his, and I found new veracity in that welcome thought. I kissed him fiercely and bucked my hips against him harder, demanding he fucks me hard and deep. Never relenting, his cock filled me up so perfectly. Marcus claimed me again and I again. We breathed in each other and were so slick with sweat. I knew our hips had bruised each other, that my tailbone was probably bruised by my needless resistance against the door.
But I didn't care. I would wear every mark proudly as a sign that I was Daddy's girl.
My teeth grazed over his lip, nibbling just a little. He took the invitation and rose the stakes, nibbling, then biting, then running his tongue over my blood. I tasted the saltiness of my blood against our kiss, and I loved sharing all of me with him. My need for Marcus was primal, and he understood how I was saying it with my body.
Cresting pleasure waves overtook my thoughts and my mouth pressed against his, slack-jawed for a moment. I moaned loudly and urgently. I was going to come, again, this time with him inside me, and I was desperate to feel him inside me, surging his own orgasm into me. He pulled back and looked at my face, and I gave him a desperate look that I knew conveyed my desperation to handle the overwhelming ecstasy he'd plowed through my body.
"I tasted what kind of girl you. Now, you can," he said with a groan of pleasure. The sound of his moans, so close to his orgasm, made my clit twinge with need and I was shuddering around him. He took deep, slower strokes, inside me. Marcus milked every drop of my pleasure onto his big cock, and then he pulled out his, shooting jets of his hot come all over my breasts. Pressing his cock between them.
Taking both my hands to grip my breasts and press his cock into my mouth while I took the head in my mouth, I sucked off his come and mine
, mingled between us. I didn't take my eyes off of his the whole time. The lust that seared his gaze made me feel powerful and more desired than I thought I ever could. I wasn't sure why I'd wanted to do what I did, nor was I confident that Marcus would even enjoy that, but until a few seconds ago I'd never really thought about someone orgasming on my breasts.
But Marcus had covered me in him and I'd tasted us both together, and it was so grippingly, primal sexual that I wanted to moan at just the thought. I held the length of him in my hands now, stroking the length that had given me such pleasure.
"Wow," I said, and my voice seemed a million miles away. "That...was..." I was panting from the intensity of it all, and my body was shuddering. Marcus held me up and pulled me into his arms.
"Perfect," Marcus said, kissing my forehead.
Marcus carried me to the master bathroom and sat me inside the shower to turn on the water. Hot, steaming water cascaded to the floor before he stepped in. I watched him, my mouth hanging open a little to watch the water curtain around his muscular, defined back and down his powerful thighs. When Marcus turned to me and I saw him from the front, I couldn't breathe, and I felt dizzy. His hard abdomen, his strong pecs, his broad shoulders. His whole body was literally breathtakingly beautiful.
"I love you," I murmured. He was looking at me, but I'd said what I had very quietly. If he heard me, he said nothing. His hand had extended toward me, and it didn't waver.
It seemed foolish to have said, particularly when I was ogling his incredible body. That was it, though. The incredible body was just one facet of the incredible man that I already knew that I loved. He was the one person I wanted to be like. His warmth and his hard work were something easy for me to want to be. I didn't want to be cold like my mother. I wanted her ambition but his warmth, so badly. And I'd wanted him. Now, he'd taken my first time and turned it into the most amazing experience of my life. Some fumbling high school boy could have done this, or a jockish frat asshole.
But instead I was taking the hand of the one man who'd been the only good constant in my life, and we were standing under the water together. His hands pulled me closer and the water washed away all our come and sweat. Marcus wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. I closed my eyes and pressed my head under his chin. I liked when he held me like this. How he stroked my hair. I needed to be his forever.
And no matter how hot the water around us was, my blood was chilled with terror. What if this was it? What if we shared this one moment and then I never saw him again?
Fuck. Everything had happened so fast. Sure, it all felt right to me. It was everything that I had ever wanted. But Marcus had said that it would never happen.
But then it did.
They happened.
What if he really never did want to see me again?
Marcus must have known something was different, though I'd tried to stay still but couldn't find any comfort any longer with my scampering thoughts. His finger crooked under my chin and made me look up at him. Opening my eyes and leaning closer to make sure that I wouldn't get pelted by the shower head's stream, I looked at him nervously.
"You're grown up now. You're starting college, starting your career. I'm not your stepfather anymore," Marcus said, sucking in a breath. Something was different, vulnerable, in his voice. Tears were welling up in my eyes, afraid that he didn’t want. I didn't want to cry anymore today.
“I love you, baby girl,” he said, his thumb brushing the tear that had escaped. “You’re mine, just ask nicely, and you’re mine,” his voice was gruff now. I was aching for him.
“Daddy, please,” I said, sucking in my lower lip.
He captured my face, kissed me, taking my lip and nibbling it. He was mine, and I was his.
Also by Naughty Angel Publishing
Wicked Lil’ Brat
Man Chaser
Red & Blue
Scandalous
Client 5
Jailbait
Python
Men of the House
12 Inches
Woman of the House
D.I.L.F.
Dirty Daddy
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Finally, in case you missed Gian and Lucy, we have a continuation of their story in a separate standalone story that can also be seen as an extended epilogue!
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Scandalous: A Secret Baby Dark Romance
Scandalous: A Secret Baby Dark Romance
Just looking at him is enough to melt my panties. That’s why I’m not wearing any around him.
Lance Anders. He’s cocky. He’s arrogant.
He’s too beautiful to be real.
But…he’s entirely forbidden.
I’m in a forced marriage to his father. A prisoner in a literally loveless partnership that only exists through blackmail. I have too much to lose.
Besides, I’m 15 years older. That makes me wiser. And my brain tells me to stay far away from him when he comes to visit for the summer.
He’s too risky for me to touch. Too taboo for me to taste. One touch of this Devil’s lips and I know I’ll be damned.
Then why am I captivated by those deep, soulful eyes?
Why can’t I get enough of that shirtless body? And that bulge in his pants. Is that really his…?
Maybe Heaven can wait…
Scandalous is a full-length standalone romance that will have your naughty bits twitching with delight. No cliffhanger. HEA guaranteed.
21
Lance
SLURP!
I look down at the sight of the nasty slut sucking my cock greedily and I grunt with a self-satisfied air. She’s getting into it. Her body isn’t the best, but I don’t fucking care. She’s the President’s only fucking daughter, and she’s giving me head while my bare ass is resting comfortably on the President’s chair.
That’s right. I’m sitting in the Big Chair itself. Right behind the President’s desk in the Oval Office. It’s night of course, and no one else is in here.
Here’s a history lesson for you. The President’s desk is called the Resolute Desk because it was given as a gift to the United States from the HMS Resolute from Her Royal Navy.
If Abby doesn’t have good aim, it’s also going to be called the Lance Anders splatter pad for when I cum all over it after this blowjob.
Lance Anders, that’s me, alright. And that’s probably the only reason that Secret Service hasn’t hauled me away from here, or building security hasn’t been set on me yet.
Because I’m supposed to be here.
Allow me to introduce myself if you haven’t been keeping in touch with CNN and Politico like the other Washington DC junkies that surround this place. My name is Lance Anders of the New York Anders Family. My father is Michael Anders, the billionaire scion of the media empire bearing his name—Anders Media.
Before you think what a great man my dad is though, let me just correct you real quick. It was my grandfather who built the fucking company to what it is today. Starting with newspapers, and then moving on to radio. Then magazines. Finally television and film. And toward the end of his life—the man worked till he died—the Internet.
My dad, well, he just built on it. Went into fucking politics. He says it's to protect the family business. Whatever. He just probab
ly likes the power. I don’t remember much, when he and my mom were married - I think I was 2.
Oh right, I call him my Dad because he’s all I’ve ever known. My mom died shortly after marrying that asshole. He became my legal guardian. But we’ll talk more about how I haven’t talked to him in forever. Right now I’m fucking this bitch.
She moans again lewdly and I think I love politics. My Dad said I should go into politics too. That’s basically why I’m here as a White House Intern right after my senior year at Yale. My dad’s the Mayor of New York City, and with a few favors and a few strings pulled, he’s put his son in at a job where he can sit in the President’s chair and get a blowjob from the First fucking Daughter.
Speaking of which, I look down. Holy fucking shit! Abby is bobbing her head up and down my shaft like a fucking pro. My cock is in a world of it’s own. It’s throbbing so hard, ready to cum that it must have it’s own fucking heartbeat. Yeah, my dad definitely wouldn’t approve of this.
But you know what? He probably wouldn’t approve of a lot of things I do. Definitely doesn’t approve of the line of tattoos gracing my arms and chest that I got in college while playing football. Definitely doesn’t approve of the fucking assembly line fucking I do of the female species. Although, there’s nothing I can really do about that. The women, they seem to throw themselves at me.
And hey, can you fucking blame them? I’m 21 years old. Young, with blue eyes and dimples. A ripped fucking body. The body of a fucking Greek god. A fucking gladiator. 8-pack abs. I bench twice my weight easily. I have a body fat index of 5%.
But that’s what brings the ladies to me in the first place. First year co-eds, sorority sluts, graduate student assistants, professors, housewives, and now First Daughters. They coo with lust as I take my clothes off and kiss between their neck and their shoulder. Then they get my pants off.
