Page 13 of Cookies and Control

“They’ll be our witnesses,” she whispers.

Rage and possession surge through me. The thought of those leering eyes on Betsy, watching us in such an intimate moment, ignites a feral urge that threatens to drown out all reason. Every muscle in my body tenses as I war with myself. She’s mine to safeguard, not theirs to ogle. The very idea of their lustful thoughts sends a wave of fury crashing through me, obliterating restraint.

“What’s going on?” Rocky sits up, rubbing his head where the dildo must have hit him.

Another inhale of Betsy’s femininity paralyzes me. My balls load up, begging to give her what she wants.

No. She can’t want this. Ready to give her what the contract obliges me to give her.

“She was fucking herself,” I growl.

Something is different about her—a boldness. She’s taken control. It’s so fucking hot. So irresistible.

“It’s not a big deal.” The innocence of her tone is betrayed by the circumstance and the gleam in her eye. “I’m just a girl trying to have an orgasm.”

“Not a big deal?” I can’t breathe.

“Neither of you will help me.”

“This isn’t right.”

“I have needs. I read books. I know what people do.”

My control snaps. My mouth is on her sex, lapping at her sweet juices, my tongue diving into her tight, warm pussy before I register a coherent thought. Too late.

Her moans ring out. “Please, Daddy. Make me come.”

Daddysure as hell is going to make that happen. I kiss and lick and suck on her clit, gripping her hips so she can’t get away. I’ve given her everything… and I’ll give her more. I’ve crossed the line. There’s no turning back.

Betsy’s cries hit a fever pitch and then she comes, drenching me in her release. I lap up every drop, committing myself to being everything my stepdaughter will ever need.

This is wrong on so many levels… But there’s also something right about it, something that feels destined.

I rise on my knees, my body prowling over her, the fur of her dress tickling my face as I drag my wet mouth and chin through it, up more until my lips hover over hers. I want her to taste herself.

As tendrils of sanity demand that I stop, all I can think is that I’m surely damned.

My lips slant over hers and she welcomes my tongue, kissing me with an abandon I only allowed myself to dream about. One of my hands goes to my pants and I pause kissing only briefly enough to stand and shuck them.

Towering over her, I recognize my chance to walk away.

She bats her eyelashes. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Fuck! I’m trapped in so many ways. By that name. By my underwear. By the contract.

But this isn’t about the contract anymore. The devil inside of me won’t let it be.

But my promise to my angel, her mother, that I would protect Betsy fills me with shame.

So why am I lowering myself over my innocent little stepdaughter?

I press my strained underwear against her pussy. Using every bit of willpower I can muster, I shift my tip to the side. Off of her entrance.

Yet, she’s shoving my underwear down. My bare tip is in her curls. I grind into her while cursing myself. “We can’t do this.”

“We have to, Daddy.”

Dammit. She’s in complete control. I snake my arms behind her back, then flip us so that I’m on the bottom and she’s tight against my chest.

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