Page 219 of Good Touch, Bad Touch Collection
I should care so, so much, but his hands are on my thighs, warm and heavy, gently moving back and forth as his eyes slowly trace over my body.
I hate Hoover, but there is something about being here, about feeling little and safe and cared for, that I can’t put into words. Even as I fight it, something inside of me feels connected, willing, and ready to submit to this strange new life.
I’m lust blind, and anything rational is pushed out of me to be replaced by the gnawing need to have this man inside me.
“I’ll admit, the desire to fuck you bloody has been hard to fight. I don’t just want you, Larissa, I want to possess you. Stuff you full of me so you’ll never understand who you were before. But I won’t force myself on you—"
I cut him off, raising my body onto my knees and kissing him hard and wild. Every part of me craves him.
I feel his power, smell his lust, and I want it all — on me, inside of me, everywhere. I feel the hard muscle tense under the fabric of his suit, the points of his lapels gently tickling my raised nipples.
He breaks our kiss, leaving me feeling breathless and fraught with hunger that swells until I think I might have a stroke.
Leaning me back, he lays me down, pulling my wrists above my head, stretching me as my belly shakes, unable to look away from the severe lines of his brow, the flex of his square jaw. I can see a raging fire behind the green irises, a tinder ignited, and I suddenly fear what I may have started.
The fear won’t assuage the wetness that is growing between my legs. Every touch of his fingers only adds to the already steaming warmth that radiates inward until I feel the screaming fire on my bottom meet with the heat from my core.
“Daddy is going to show you what it feels like to be his very special girl.”
He tugs at his tie, and I hear the swoosh and snap as he pulls it free and flings it behind him.
“Don’t move,” he orders as he works the buttons on his shirt. My stomach turns inside out as the reality of what is about to happen becomes more and more real with each passing second.
I am about to lose my virginity to a man I barely know.
A man who, it seems, is my… uncle.
God, I’m sorry, but that’s so hot.
All I feel is the overwhelming need to have him on top of me.
I am most definitely not the girl who arrived here drugged and kidnapped.
As he strips the rest of his clothes, liquid fire burns between my legs, my heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings.
“Are you ready, babygirl?”
I have never seen a live person with a body so sculpted, so refined and hard. As he drops his shirt, the planes and angles of his torso only make the throbbing deeper. I hear the sound of his leather belt as he pulls it from his pants, the soft zip before he stands in front of me, and I swallow as my mouth falls open.
Every cut of his muscle is taut, smooth skin pulled over each valley and shadow of eight defined squares along his midsection. It suddenly doesn’t feel real. A man like this has to be a Photoshop creation, not flesh and bone.
His hand lowers, and I dare to finally look directly at the engorged shaft that dominates my vision. He strokes the length as he watches my face. I have no reference of anything so large being real. I’ve seen pictures, watched some free porn withgirlfriends, but nothing I’ve seen could have prepared me for what stands out tall and thick in front of Daddy.
Tension grips my heart like a fist. Blood rages through my ears like a hammer. That voice in my head urges me again to run, to get out, that this is a mistake of such proportions I will never be the same.
But my instinct has me frozen in place. I feel like the virgin on the altar, while the King awaits his moment to take me and assuage the cruel gods.
“You are Daddy’s beautiful girl.” His hand continues to stroke the length of his shaft. It hypnotizes me, and I feel the blood drain from my face. “Open your legs,” he commands, his voice quiet but sure.
The skin and muscles in my legs vibrate. It takes a long moment for my body to respond to my brain’s command, letting my knees fall gently open.
Daddy’s eyes are on fire, intent and piercing as his cock rages in his hand.
“I’m scared,” I whisper.
The sight of his massive cock has a scream banking in my throat. Every rational thought in my head tells me there is no possible way he will fit inside my tiny, virgin body.
“Fear is one of the strongest emotions. Embrace it. Harness it. Do not push it away.”
