In His Custody
And we’re only on six.
We have to stop.
I didn’t realize. I didn’t know I could have an orgasm so easily. But there’s something about this man. It’s as though he has a direct line to all of my nerve endings and sensitive zones. Places I have a hard time finding myself. His fingers are creeping between the split of my buns, his middle finger pressing tight to that pucker and I whine his name, sucking the skin of his neck like some kind of maniac, razing him with my teeth. And he bounces me up and down, making me cry out every time I land on that hard rod, the length of it rubbing my clitoris.
“Stop.” I tighten my legs around his hips, contradicting my order. “I…think. I think…”
“Did your plan to tease Daddy backfire, you horny little cock tease?” He presses his fingers tighter to my back entrance and grunts, rifling his hips up and down. “Are you about to come in those tiny fucking shorts you put on to torture me?”
“Y-yes. Yes. Stop.”
He jiggles that forbidden pucker and I see stars. “But we have five more.”
“I d-don’t want them.”
“Are you sure? Your claws are in my fucking back, baby. You’re soaking through your shorts and my sweatpants.” He bends his knees slowly. “I’m pretty sure you want the last five.”
“No.” I scramble to hold on. “I don’t know.”
Brody rams his hips upward and I scream, right there on the verge of something earth shattering. Every coiled muscle in my body is poised to implode. “Four more,” he groans. “But I bet you only need one, huh, little girl? One more from who? Call me by name, London. You know the one.”
“Daddy,” I scream through clenched teeth.
And with a growl, he goes for broke, humping me through our clothes, grinding up into me, dropping low and doing it again, again, again, his moans pushing me over the finish line, pleasure tearing through me like a juggernaut. “Fuck. You can’t help it, can you? Born to make me fucking crazy, weren’t you, little girl? Parading this pussy around and daring me to take it. I will. I’ll have it so many times, you’ll ask me for permission to take a piss.”
I’m reeling from the crudeness, the glorious wrong and right of everything that’s happening here, when Brody drops me to my feet, pulls down my shorts and spanks me hard. I think it’s going to be over after one slap, but he keeps going. Bringing his palm down soundly on my buttocks until I’m bracing myself against one of the mirrors, making a low keening noise, pushing up for more. Begging for the punishment I didn’t know I needed.
“Now. Enough.” He pulls my shorts back on over my smarting flesh and spins me around again, clasping my jaw and holding me steady so I’m looking him in the eye. “Now, you’re going to send me the video you just took on your phone. Then you’re going to erase it like a good girl. Aren’t you?”
Wow. Caught. “Yes.”
“And when I leave for work, you’re going to fill out the application.”
I nod, no idea what’s happening inside of me.
I thought I hated authority. I’ve bucked it my whole life. Resented it.
But having this man ask me to fulfill promises in such a firm, but…loving way. It’s like the nectar I’ve been trying and trying to suck from the flower is finally flowing into my veins.
It’s hopeful and right and kind of twisted.
But looking up into his golden-brown eyes, I’m instantly addicted.
What am I thinking?
Not only am I tempted to trust this man I met yesterday, but he’s my stepfather and he just gave me an orgasm. Didn’t even take his own, just shook me like an earthquake and maintained his authority. Even now, I want to kneel in front of him and return the pleasure. I’m so eager to do it, I’m shaking.
It’s terrifying.
He’s too close. I’m too eager to trust.
Whatever hold Brody has on me, I have to sever it now before it becomes too strong.
It’s why I run out of the gym, taking the stairs back to my room two at a time and locking the door, sliding down to the floor and reeling over what just happened, rocking side to side. How he…got to me. Made me want to trust and obey. I can’t let it happen again.
I wait in my room for Brody to leave for work, fill out an online application for the closest engineering school as fast as possible—after all, I never go back on a bet—and blow out of the house with the intention of finding my old self. Or trouble. Whichever comes first.3BrodyIt takes me a goddamn hour to get through the station.
Phones are ringing off the hook and everyone needs paperwork signed off or a fresh set of eyes on their case. By the time I finally make it to my office and close the door, I’m so anxious for the scent of London, I almost rip the drawer clean out of my desk.