Page 44 of The Tangle of Awful

“Love…” The slight rasp is all I can manage. A weak attempt to ask her to move away before I do something regrettable.

“My day was good, but now it’s even better,” she murmurs, slightly parting her thighs as if to invite my hand closer.

I groan when she wriggles against me, sending more pleasure shooting through me. I grip her thigh hard enough to make her moan. The thought of leaving claiming bruises on her leg for all to see has me doing it again. I ache to leave more bruises on her, this time with my teeth and mouth.

We’ve crossed a line, but we’re not too far gone yet.

I could stop this.

I have to stop this.

She grips my neck, pulling herself closer and bringing her ass over my cock. This time, I’m making the sound of pleasure. I need to tell her to stop, but it feels too damn good having her grind her ass against me.

My fingers have inched all the way beneath her skirt and I know this because I can feel the silky edge of her panties with my fingertip. The desire to pull it away and sink my fingers into her tight heat is maddening.

Fuck, I want her so goddamn badly.

Her efforts become more earnest, as though with every movement, she knows she’s bringing me closer to coming. I’ll ruin these slacks and my dry cleaner’s image of me, but I can’t find it in me to care at the moment. All I care about is coming with this sexy little thing on my lap.

But we can’t.

We can’t do this because there’s no undoing it.

I’m about to tell her as much, to warn her off before the explosion, but she stops me dead in my tracks. In a surprisingly bold move, she leans closer, bringing her supple lips to mine.

The kiss is soft and sweet at first.

Almost…innocent.

Before I can process the perfection of it, she moans, a sound filled with pure need and longing. I gasp at the lovely sound. She takes the opportunity to tug at my bottom lip with her teeth.

Holy shit.

What the fuck are we doing right now?

My eyes roll back when she sucks on my lip. I can almost imagine her between my thighs, sucking on something bigger and harder. That image is too fucking hot for work.

Karla’s loud laugh beyond my closed door is a shower of ice water on me. I stiffen as reality sets back in. I remove my hold on her thigh to then grip her throat, squeezing slightly as I push her away from my mouth.

“I can’t do this with you,” I rumble, voice thick with regret. “I can’t, Love.”

She blinks several times as though clearing away a daze and her brows furl. “Why not?”

“You know why.” I release her neck, but not without stroking the column of her throat with my thumb first. “You’re my stepdaughter. It’s…wrong.”

Her face burns crimson, a mixture of shame and anger warring over her features. I hiss as she slides off my lap, making sure to give my cock one last stroke of pleasure. Helplessly, I stare at her retreating form, hating myself for having to put a stop to this whole thing.

“I led you on,” I mumble. “That’s on me.”

“Just stop,” she snaps. “I don’t want to talk about this ever again.”

She slips out of my office quietly, but she may as well have slammed the door in my face with how I flinch. It fucking sucks seeing her disappointment and confusion—all of which I’m responsible for.

I’m an asshole.

A weak bastard who would allow his cock to lead the way into forbidden territory, just to have a sweet little taste.

And now, because of me, she’s pissed and hurt.

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