Page 7 of Lesson on Depravity

Not a week into my new home that Daddy had provided, I have had nightmares and hallucinations that I saw Javier just eerily wandering around where I live and work. Mrs. Curtis thinks I’m not getting enough sleep and believing things that aren’t there, but I know she’s hiding something too.

It’s a gut feeling that I have acquired as part of my survival days, but I had no proof to argue with her.

“You’ll protect me, right?” I tentatively ask, my lashes flutter as his lips land on my temple.

“What do you think I have been doing all this time, Coco,” he comments with a sigh.

The house that I have been living in for the past two weeks has not been broken into, no suspicious activity around the block, and no trouble came to me when I walked to Mrs. Curtis’ shop for work.

His silent protection and the goons he had given orders to protect me allowed me to have a taste of freedom on the tip of my tongue, but it was bitter and cold. It didn’t have the same warmth and sweetness that I would get when I’m with Daddy.

“I spoil you too much, princess,” he grunts as if he had read my mind.

I shakily exhale. “I want to do something for Daddy too, what can I do?”

It feels wrong for me to receive all the affectionate gestures. I want to do something for him, so I don’t have this imbalance of guilt inside of me.

“Just stay and be my pretty princess, that’s all Daddy asks for.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip, gnawing at the flesh and contemplating that obvious answer in my heart. Of course, I would want to stay with him, but I still want to go explore. I can do that if I ask him, Daddy will let me do anything I want as long it is with his permission.

My voice doesn’t work, and Daddy doesn’t mind it as he steers me to the kitchen. The food has gone cold, but it’s better at room temperature than to burn my tongue. Daddy sits first and hooks his arm around my waist, bringing me down to his firm lap and nuzzling the back of my head.

He murmurs, “My pretty princess.”

“You can’t eat when I’m sitting on you, Daddy,” I huff, wiggling on his lap to break free.

His arm crushes my stomach, knocking the air out of my lungs as something way too big nudges against my butt. A growl shifting in tune sends a round of lightning crackles down to my toes as he sneers into my red ear.

“Daddy will skip breakfast and go straight to the dessert if you misbehave.” His threat lingers in the air, taunting me and challenging me to go against him so it would be a justified reason for him to enact on his predatory hunger.

“My little Coco knows Daddy loves cream, doesn’t she?” His teeth nip on my ear, making the burning ear turn hotter.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I promise I’ll be still.”

“Shame.” He hums. “I thought you wanted to learn how to be brave? Where’s the fire, baby?”

I can’t help but wiggle again, mewling at his hot cock, scorching my butt. “You’re going to punish me for being bad, and I have to work today!”

His hand comes around to the front, fingers indenting my inner thigh and too close to my throbbing pussy. Two weeks without his touch have gotten me quite desperate to be under him, but he has a lot more self-control than I do.

His hand remains there, stroking the delicate skin and kneading the softness with calloused fingers.

“Don’t stop me, princess,” he purrs. “I want to watch you eat.”

Daddy is an absolute pervert. He either does something outrageously scandalous to me, or he nudges me towards that breaking point where I just beg for him to put me out of this limber of denied pleasure.

The main concern for me is to have a full tummy to work, and Mrs. Curtis doesn’t like it when I’m late. Daddy likes to make it difficult for me to get there on time to spite Mrs. Curtis, and he’s merciless when he doesn’t let me out of bed without his hand in my panties first.

The syrupy taste explodes in my mouth as I chew on the fruit. I underestimated how sweet the fruit is during the flourishing season, but there is no such thing as too sweet on my taste bud. I still grimace at the unexpected sweetness, and Daddy caught the slight shift in my face as his hand snaps around my jaw to turn my head.

His brows furrow, dark eyes dragging over the expanse of my face before landing on my glossy lips. The stickiness from the fruit swipes through the crack of my parted lips, and he dives in with his tongue taking and licking away the honied glaze.

My tongue brush against his with my hand weakly holding the fork and pushing against his chest. The swift action didn’t allow me the adequate time to prepare my breath before it’s stolen away by this unreasonable man.

“You said you were only watching,” I murmur with a pout; the dull throbbing on my lips is the end result of his rough ministration.

The whites of his teeth elicit a joy of distress in my fear as my blood pounds against my ribs, pushing and slamming to get out from the darken haze of lust in his eyes.

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