Page 11 of Protect Me

“You gotta go, Isabella.” I return my cock to my sweatpants.

“But—”

“Now!”

She raises her chin at me in a show of defiance. “Yes, daddy,” she mocks, throwing me a two-finger salute before leaving me alone in the hallway with a raging fucking erection.

I go back to my bed and grab my phone. Just before I click off the screen, I see her return to her bedroom. She lies down on her bed, and her hand goes right down her pajama pants. Her unoccupied hand gropes her chest.

This girl.

With my phone still in my hand, I head toward her room. I reach her door just as her back arches. There’s no sound on my app, but based on her parted lips, she’s moaning.

She knows the rules.

I go for the doorknob, but it doesn’t twist. It’s locked. It takes a quick turn of my pocketknife to unlock the door and head inside. Instead of seeming surprised, she lets her back fall to the mattress.

“I found your camera this morning,” she says with a smirk. She lifts her phone, which has a view of my room. “And I put in one of my own.”

No wonder she knew when I tried to do the same thing.

What a psychotic thing for her to do. While I like watching, following, and intruding on people’s private spaces, it’s what I’m paid to do. It’s my job. That’s what makes me a good guard, and it’s not my fault that it gives me an excuse to be stalker-y.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snarl.

“Probably the same things that are wrong with you. I like to watch too, and I can be just as tactful as you. You aren’t God’s gift to guards.” She sits up and runs her tongue over her fingers, which drives me fucking mad. “If I can’t touch myself, I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you can’t either.” A sadistic-as-fuck smile plays across her lips, and honestly, I’m kind of here for it.

“So this is the game we’re playing?” I lean against the door frame, the same way she did.

“Yup.”

“Show me,” I say, raising my eyebrow.

Her lips twist, and I wait for her to throw her lamp at my head. But on the other hand, this girl is boss-level horny. She reminds me of a dog that hasn’t been neutered, indiscriminately humping every object in the house. I get the feeling she won’t bat an eye about showing me her cunt.

“Fine.” She stands and lowers her pajama pants to her thighs. Once they hit the ground, she kicks them away. Like a sinful fucking goddess, she sits on the edge of the bed and spreads her legs.

I roll my shoulders, trying to get the tension out of them at the sight of her. I shouldn’t have joined her game. I can’t win. The temptation to cheat is too strong.

Against every argument from every cell in my body, I take a leery step forward. Well, every cell aside from those in my dick. That thing is screaming for me to pounce, so I’m really not listening to any part of myself. I’m just existing in this moment when the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen is spread in front of me.

“How many men have seen your cunt, Isabella?”

“None,” she whispers. She raises her chin. “Just my daddy,” she says with a bite of her lip, and I know she means me.

It’s cute when she mockingly calls me daddy and I do the same back, but she says it with a whole new tone this time, and I don’t know if I like it.

I brush back my hair, forcing myself to listen to my mind as I take a step away from her. Her father will kill me if I touch her how I want to, in the ways I’ve vowed to never do. But she stopped me before I could bust, and I’m not in the right headspace.

I want to touch her. I won’t fuck her.

I keep repeating it over and over in my mind until it sounds like a pretty good plan. I move toward her and place my body between her spread thighs. Her eyes slowly roll up to mine. I lift her chin.

“This is a bad idea, Isabella. I shouldn’t be the first one to see your spread pussy. It’s supposed to be for your husband.”

“Despite what it sounds like, there’s no rule against nudity,” she clarifies. “Just touch.” She enunciates every syllable as she stands.

She’s so fucking close to me. The temptation drips from her. I’ve never had to guard someone’s virginity before, and I gotta admit, I’m not doing a great job of it.

---