Page 31 of Her Stepbrother Master
“Now, blow it out and push back at me.”
She exhaled, but didn’t understand the second part of his instructions. Nevertheless, he breached her entrance, causing a burning sensation. She tightened against the intrusion, which only increased the ring of fire. “Oh,” she gasped.
“Relax, baby girl. Let Daddy in.”
Anxious to please, she willed her body to relax and allow his plunder.
He brought the pad of his thumb to the sensitive nub at the apex of her nether lips and rubbed. Pleasure shot through her.
He pushed in further, bringing more pleasure, mingled with the burning sensation that frightened her, but didn’t really hurt.
“Oh Daddy,” she moaned. She loved calling him Daddy—it felt so wrong and yet so right.
He filled her, moving slowly in and out, while he circled the sweet spot on her pussy.
The intensity made her frantic for release, and she thrashed her head back and forth, whimpering and babbling an incoherent plea for release. It contained many Oh’s, Ah’s and Ooh’s, culminating in a long string of “please, please, please, please, please.”
Brad vibrated his thumb over her raw pussy and her body convulsed, fireworks shooting behind her eyes.
“Oh, hell, you’re so hot, LuAnn,” Brad cried in a roughened voice and shoved deep inside her, stretching her back hole wide. He remained buried in her ass, eyes closed, his hot fluid filling her.
She knew how these things worked from hanging out with some faster girls at Sarah Wharton. She hadn’t known about females also secreting fluid, but for this part, at least, she’d been prepared.
Brad eased out of her. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” he said, running his hand over her hip with a light caress.
She didn’t want him to leave, but he returned just moments later with a warm washcloth, which he used to clean her. It embarrassed her to have him wiping her bottom like a baby, but it tweaked her, too. Her nipples grew hard again and every nerve ending tingled.
Brad picked up the throw blanket her mother had crocheted for him from the Davenport and wrapped her in it, settling her on the sofa in a more comfortable position. “I’m going to see what I can salvage of dinner, sweets.”
“I’ll do it. It’s my fault.” She jumped to her feet.
He gently pushed her back down. “Daddy will do it. I want my baby girl to rest.”
Warmth slid down her chest like a sip of hot cocoa on a winter’s night. Being cared for this way made her feel so important, so special. She soaked up Brad’s attentions like a sponge.
Brad returned a few minutes later and scooped her into his arms, blanket and all. He carried her to the kitchen, where he sat in a chair at the table and settled her in his lap. He’d made one plate of food and he fed her from it with his fingers, pulling bits of meat from the overcooked chicken and slipping them between her lips.
She ate what he fed her and sighed, beyond content. The throbbing in her bottom and back-hole only served as a pleasant reminder of being utterly claimed by Brad. He planned to make her his wife. She could scarcely believe it—all her teenage fantasies come to fruition.
Brad spent the night on the couch again, determined not to take LuAnn’s virginity before he made her his bride. Of course, he’d more than taken her innocence already, but it seemed important to leave the last act for consummating their marriage.
LuAnn woke before he did, looking picture perfect as she stood in the kitchen making him breakfast. She’d pulled her hair into two pigtails tied up with ribbons and he had a feeling she knew exactly what that did to him. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her neck. “Good morning, mouse. You look adorable.”
She turned her face into his kiss, melting back against him. “Why do you like me as a little girl?”
“Because you are—by nature. You’re sweet and bubbly and full of life. And because I want to be your daddy—the man who controls every part of your life, from the clothes you wear, to the things you do. The man who bares your bottom and spanks you raw when you disobey.” He squeezed her ass, noticing her quickened breath.
“A husband controls, doesn’t he?”
“A daddy-husband controls more. He controls everything.” He palmed her breasts, squeezing and lifting them. “Plus, he protects, comforts and nurtures. Do you like the way Daddy takes care of you?”
She gave a little moan. “Yes, Daddy.”
He forced himself to release her or he’d be carrying her off to the bed before breakfast. “What did you make Daddy for breakfast?”
“Oatmeal,” she said. “Sit down and I’ll bring it to you.”
He smiled and sat, watching her move around the kitchen with a bounce in her step. “How many days until you graduate, mouse?”
