Dirty Daddy

It’s one thing to read about Magnus Davion, but it’s a whole new ball game when you experience him. More than a man, he’s a force of nature.

I knew that the moment I first laid eyes on him, back when I was only a wide-eyed 18-year-old. I was just a young girl back then, but I already felt that deep animal attraction, that magnetism that just draws you further and further in until you no longer know the way back.

Just a stupid fantasy, I lied to

myself when I accepted this assignment, trying to box the lust I felt for him as a teenage crush on an older man. But when I saw him at the gala, I have to admit: I felt that fire in my belly again, that burning need to have his body pressed against mine taking me over... and so I just said yes when he asked me out.

We were supposed to have dinner and ‘reconnect’, whatever that means, but five minutes into the dinner and I knew how the night would end. And I was right. Yeah, yeah, I know… I kinda provoked it, but so what? It’s not like it’s going to happen again.

Did I enjoy it? Yup. Was it the best sex of my life? You can bet it was. But all that doesn’t mean I’ll allow myself to be dragged into a forbidden relationship. He’s my stepfather, after all. I haven’t forgotten about that.

The way I see it, that night with Magnus was just a one time thing. And now that I’ve scratched that itch, I can focus on the task at hand and—wait, did you hear that? Someone’s knocking at the door.

I place my laptop on the coffee table in front of me and get up from the couch; I make my way toward the door, stretching my arms as I go. Who the hell can it be this late? I don’t think Laurel’s pissed enough to drive all the way to my apartment. At least I hope not. My mother might be, though. That woman loves to fight as much as she loves her Louis Vuitton bags.

I open the door, sighing and waiting to see my mother standing in the doorway. But she isn’t there; it’s someone else entirely.

“Busy?” Magnus asks me, taking one step toward me and placing one arm around my waist. He pulls me into him and, without waiting for a reply, leans in and crushes his lips on mine.

Remember when I told you that what happened between Magnus and I was just a one-time thing?

I think I might have lied.

13

Penny

“Hello, Daddy,” I say, and I can feel my smile spreading across my face. Even if I didn't want it to be there, it is.

Just like the wetness in my panties when I see his smile.

I follow his eyes as they travel over me. Magnus likes what he sees. I’m his stepdaughter. Or I was. And when he looks at me, well, he’s not thinking of me as his little baby girl the way the rest of the world thinks he should. But me? I’m very happy to be the impetus for that fine slab of cock stabbing at his trousers in way that looks almost painful. Really, I’m already licking my lips when I think about freeing the beast.

“Penny,” Magnus growls low in his throat. His lips close over mine before I have time to think or do anything but kiss him back. I could've resisted a moment later, had I wanted to. But the instant my senses understood his touch I'm overcome by my own lust. Our lips press together fervently. This is not a gentle kiss. It is not a request for sex, not a request for love. It's a demand for me to be all his.

I have no issue with that. Whatever I have to give, I want him to take. Magnus kisses with such power that I know my lips will be bruised, stinging long after his lips find purchase elsewhere on my body. I taste his breath, expensive wine and the rich flavor of a sensual man. There’s no boyish booze, no tawdry cheap tastes to be had. His mouth is smooth as the silk that peaks from his suit pocket squares. Magnus’s scent fills my nose, the masculine scent of power and something primal, like a fire at night and the woods at dusk. His lips dance over mine; his tongue caressing me with a delicate yet possessive nature that sends shivers through my body. His hands close over and pull me up to him; Magnus is much taller than me and lifts me off the ground so that he can kiss me deeper.

Finally, leaving me gasping but not releasing me so that my feet are flat on the ground — I’m like a ballerina locked in a form — Magnus breaks the kiss. “I need my cock buried in your sweet pussy, now,” he says in a voice like a wave crashing over my body.

Heated salt sprays my skin and brings the scratching tickle of lust like the sea’s embrace riding through me. I want that very much. The very idea of riding his cock again, being fucked by him again, makes me ache for him. The pressure in my belly is an extension of the throb in my pussy. My clit twitches. I have to take a moment to breathe in for a just a second, and I don’t know if I should tear off my clothes, or his first.

Magnus throws me over his shoulder and walks through my doorway. Shutting the door and slamming me into that closed door, his hands answer my dilemma. Magnus tears my clothing off in a few seconds, everything falling to the ground in shreds. My skin is covering in raised goosebumps reacting to the air shocking my skin, and the way that he’s aroused me with this show of force.

Everything about it says…

I want you.

I’ll have you.

And I’ll take what I want now.

That’s romance to my ears now. There’s nothing gentle about Daddy, no, he’s stern and insistent.

I watch him remove his own clothes and I race him to shuck my own clothes off first.

I look at him as I lean down, preparing for him. In a moment, he’s inside me I catch only a glance at his incredible cock before he drives into me with a thrust I fear might break me. His cock spears into me and sinks deep into my pussy, replacing all the empty places inside me with his enormous girth. Magnus has a cock like I can’t believe. I think if I swallow, I may taste the head—that's how massive his cock is.

Pressing my bruised-with-kisses lips together, I moan at being filled up with Magnus’s cock.