Page 58 of Off Limits

“That’s good,” he breathes, voice quivering. “That’s good, baby.” His brow furrows deeply, as if he’s in pain, and his breath starts coming in hard, rough pants. “Show me how good your tits feel. Squeeze them for me. Let me see you play with them.”

Lifting my hands, I cup each one, rubbing and massaging them while my stepfather stares with rapt attention. I have a terrible thought, a thought I feel guilty about. I’m proud of my breasts. I know I have a good body because other girls are always jealously telling me so. And if there’s any part of my stepfather that might be thinking of his wife next door, I’m sure he’s at least noticing that my breasts are better than hers.

I burn hot at the thought, my own horrible vanity shaming me, and out of unconscious instinct, I lower one hand and reach for my stuffed bunny lying within reach on the bed. The soft squeeze of Bunners under my hand reassures me. Bunners grounds me. We all have our moments of vanity. I’m still the same innocent person I always was.

I lean down on Bunners, hoping it just looks like I’m holding myself up, but Jean-Luc’s eyes follow my hand, spotting the rabbit.

“Yes, baby,” he groans helplessly. “Pick up your stuffy and hold it while you squeeze your tits for me.”

I blush furiously, understanding what he’s asking, but I’m excited, too. A thrill of excitement goes through me. It’s forbidden, it’s taboo, and it’s wrong. But in that moment I realize for sure: he wants what I want.

I pick up the bunny, hugging it between both breasts and pout. “Like this, Daddy?” I ask in my sweetest voice.

“Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “Holy fuck.” His hand moves faster. His whole rhythm has changed. “Do you want to be a good girl for Daddy?” he asks.

“Yes.” Clutching Bunners with one hand, I squeeze and rub one breast with the other.

“Say it,” he says urgently. “Say it.”

“I want to be a good girl for Daddy.”

“Good,” he breathes, chest heaving. He releases his cock and sits up. “That’s good.” Raising himself off the bed until he’s standing beside me, he grips his shaft and says, “Open your mouth for Daddy.”

I clutch the rabbit to my chest and open wide, like I’m at the dentist, and Jean-Luc quickly places a hand behind my head and thrusts his cock into my mouth. “You’re going to take Daddy’s load,” he groans. “You’re going to swallow Daddy’s cum.” He grunts, thrusting hard, and then I feel his hot cum hitting the back of my throat. I close my eyes as he fills up my mouth, and I hold it there for a moment before swallowing it down in one big gulp. His hand loosens in my hair and I open my eyes to find him beaming down at me. He looks proud, loving, and kind.

“Stick out your tongue and show me,” he says softly, and when I stick my tongue all the way out, he praises me. “Good fucking girl.”

He pulls his pants up and lies back down onto the bed, pulling me in against him and kissing the top of my head.

“Daddy…” It’s the just-right word. Not Dad, not Jean-Luc. When we’re like this he’s someone else.

We’re both someone else, I think, feeling my bunny still in my arms.

“Daddy, are we going to do it, though? One day? Sex, I mean.”

He sighs heavily before answering. “Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” I answer. One hundred percent, completely, no doubt, there is nothing I want more than to have Jean-Luc fully. To be loved by my daddy in that way.

“Let’s talk it over later,” he murmurs, sounding sleepy. “It’s a big deal. We have to be…to be careful.”

“We will be,” I promise. “Mom will never know.”

Jean-Luc

I’M SURPRISED TO find Melanie sitting at the kitchen island when I come downstairs. I’ve worked out, showered, and done a couple of hours of work at my desk but it’s still only ten in the morning. Melanie almost never gets up before noon.

“Good morning,” I say civilly. “Coffee?”

“Please.” She widens her eyes emphatically. “I’ve missed good coffee.”

I don’t take the bait. I don’t ask more about her life in New Mexico or why she didn’t have good coffee, I don’t even return her smile. I just load up the Nespresso and pour two cups.

“Dani and I will be out today,” I tell her as I pass her a mug, and I don’t miss how her eyes flash up at me with sudden interest. “We’re going to Sarah Kearns’ wedding.”

“Together?”

The way she asks the question takes me by surprise, as if there’s something unusual about it. “I don’t have a date. Thought it might be fun for Dani.”

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