Bad Daddy (Dirty Little Lies Duet 1)

“I’ll do anything. It’s only your cock I want.” A ripple of pleasure shoots to my core as he tears my yoga pants further down my legs. He releases his cock from his slacks and buries it deep inside me. There’s no gentleness in this, just pure, raw sex. He’s trying to make a point. And his message is clear. His cock is so deep, I moan loudly, and his hand reaches around, shoving his fingers back in my mouth to quiet me.

“Was this just a game for you, naughty girl? See if you could taunt the bad man? Get a taste of the untouchable?”

“No,” I answer on a rasp. “I’ve always wanted you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since—”

“Since the day I walked into this very room, and you gifted me the sight of these beautiful breasts? My breasts.” His hand works its way up, taking my nipple between his fingers and pinching to the brink of pain. “You gave me something that day, and now it’s mine to own.”

“What’s that?” I ask between pants.

“Your essence.” He plunges into me like a bull, fucking me into oblivion. My screams are muffled as he grabs Hazel’s scarf off the desk and shoves it into my mouth. My walls squeeze tight around him as my orgasm detonates, white stars shooting behind my eyelids.

“Oh God,” I cry out my release as he pumps into me without remorse, letting his own orgasm take flight. Warmth shoots inside me as he fills me, claims me. He pulls out, leaving me empty, wetness dripping down my legs. He dips his hand between my thighs, soaking his fingers with his cum. Reaching around, he tugs down my tank top and smears himself over my chest. I follow his fingers as he draws the shape of an H over my breastbone.

A few short moments pass before he breaks the silence. “Missed this, naughty girl.” He brushes his lips over my shoulder blade, then to the center of my back.

“I thought you were mad at me,” I confess, the worry that consumed me all week returning.

“I was. Why I needed to see for myself how you were behaving.”

“I thought you came to see Hazel?”

“Amongst other things.” Fisting my hair, he pulls my head back and kisses me, catching me off guard, and I melt into him. This affectionate side is new for me. He takes my mouth, showing me exactly who owns me, and I become lost—in his touch, his scent, the lingering taste of my own arousal he forced in my mouth. Breaking contact, he steps back, tucking himself into his slacks.

I adjust my clothes, then shamefully use Hazel’s scarf to clean myself up. When I go to wipe off my chest, Heath seizes my wrist. “No. That stays. So you know—so anyone who comes near you knows.”

I blush at the mere thought of his cum stained on my chest. His mark. His claim. I nod, struggling to keep eye contact and pull away, looking around the room until I regain my composure. “So…what happens now?” There’s so much that needs to be established. Does this make us a couple? How do we tell Hazel? How will she take it?

Casually rolling up his shirt sleeves, he says, “With what?”

“About Hazel. We should tell her.”

There’s a shift in the air. “You will do no such thing.” Walking up to me, he clutches my chin. “You belong to me—even this tongue. For right now, it stays quiet.”

“But what if she—?”

“For now, she can’t know. Let me handle my daughter.”

As if on cue, the door handle turns, and Hazel walks into the room. Heath walks over to greet his daughter, kissing the top of her head. “Hey, Daddy! Glad you made it!” She hugs him, then pins me with a concerned smile. “How you feelin’?”

My hands become fidgety. Hazel stares at me, waiting for an answer, but all I can do is think about the neon H stamped on my chest. “Um…yeah, it was just a headache. I feel better now. How was class? I’ll just copy your notes, cool?”

“Yeah, sure. So, Dad, what do you feel like doing?”

Heath brushes a piece of hair away from his daughter’s cheek. “Why don’t I take you girls out to dinner? My treat.”

And like there isn’t a huge elephant crammed in the room, we head out to dinner.

Violet

“Oh my god, no way! He was so nasty.”

Our conversation is casual—as casual as it can be with my pussy still sore and cum on my chest. Hazel stops mid-sentence, dropping her attention to her phone. Her eyes crease, and she excuses herself, telling us she needs to take a call.

“What’s on that pretty little mind of yours, naughty girl?” Heath takes a sip of his bourbon.

I want to bring up our situation. I know it’s not normal. Shit, it’s way far from normal. Our age gap, it’s wrong in so many ways, but the way he makes me feel, the loneliness that consumes me when I can’t see him…no matter how wrong this is, it feels right to me. But this is not the place to bring it up. “Oh, nothing, just remembering the last time we were at dinner eating pizza together.”