Page 34 of Off Limits
She doesn’t say anything to that, though. She just continues to rub her little butt against my cock as it gets harder and harder against her, and finally she turns her face towards me and says, “I like that I can make you feel good.”
“Mm,” I grunt unintelligibly. I like that she can make me feel good, too.
I shouldn’t enjoy it, but I can’t fight it. The pulsing, throbbing rhythm of pleasure she’s eliciting in me feels so good I can barely think about anything else.
God, I want her. A wildness is rising up in me that I know I need to control, but I don’t want to. After weeks of resisting, I just want to give in.
Fuck it.
“I like it, too,” I growl, and turn her face towards me, lowering my mouth to hers.
She’s indescribably soft and sweet. There aren’t words for the texture of her lips, the little wet protrusion of her tongue, the feel of her cheek under my hand. My dick throbs to life, hard and heavy as I stroke it against the crack of her ass, through all the layers of clothing between us. She moans into my mouth, and my hands move down her body until I’m fondling her breasts through her t-shirt.
God, I’m aching for her. I want to tear her pyjama shorts down and pin her to the mattress. I want fuck my stepdaughter on my wife’s side of the bed, and the thought of that—thinking it in those words—makes my dick ache even harder. It’s so wrong.
And I want it so bad.
“Good thing Mommy’s not here,” I say, out of my mind with lust. “She’d be so mad.”
She gasps. “Dad!” But there’s a smile in her tone. She doesn’t pull away. And in a second, I’m on top of her, kissing her neck and yanking her t-shirt up to her armpits until I’m sucking her nipples into my mouth and running my tongue over the hard, pebbled feel of them.
Her tits are incredible, so full and firm, and I knead the weight of them as I suckle, fascinated by their plump, juicy resistance.
“Oh,” she breathes. “That feels good.”
I could lick every inch of her skin and never be satisfied. I want to utterly consume her; to devour her whole. I pull myself up into a sitting position with a monumental effort of will.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper, taking in the view of the flushed, half-naked girl in my bed. I’ve been with beautiful women before…hell, I’ve only been with beautiful women, but Dani is in another category altogether. Her firm, perky tits, tiny waist, and absolutely flawless skin, the red flame of her hair contrasting with the cool blue of her eyes—there’s never been another woman like Dani in my bed.
Except her mother.
“Are we going to…have sex?” asks Dani, nervously biting her lip in a way that makes me want to kiss her again and bite it for her.
There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more in my life, but… “No,” I answer.
Her face falls, and before she can form the word why, I lower myself back down over her and kiss her cheek. I grind my hard, needy cock against her, trying desperately to summon my self-restraint.
“I want to, baby,” I murmur. “I fucking want to. But we can’t. I’m your daddy, sweetie.”
“Not really,” she argues, squirming underneath me. “Please.”
“Yes, really.” I hold her gaze. “I wouldn’t want it to be any other way. You’re my little girl and I love that.” She groans, helplessly, and I grind against her again. “But you’re such a fucking sexy little girl. Look what you’ve done to me. Look what you’ve done to your daddy.”
“Let me help,” she whispers, spreading her legs and lifting her hips so that the base of my shaft is pressed against her pussy. Thank God for pyjamas or I would probably be inside her already.
“No, sweetheart,” I say with finality, knowing I need to stop this and walk away. I lift myself off her and stand up, noticing her stuffed bunny shoved between the pillows. I pick him up and hand him to her. “You and Bunners get some sleep. Your daddy has to go take care of himself right now in the bathroom and I’ll be back to bed soon.”
She takes the bunny and clutches it to her, looking up at me with sweet, pleading eyes. “But I want you.”
She’s irresistible. I run my fingers through her hair again and bend down to kiss her softly on the lips. “You’re too young,” I say. “Maybe when you’re older.”
Danica
I WAKE UP in the morning after a deep, dreamless sleep, briefly unsure of where I am. I’m incredibly comfortable—cocooned in some warm, soft, but unfamiliar nest. It’s the sound of a shower running that’s woken me, I realize, and slowly I remember that I’m in Jean-Luc’s bed. The thought jumpstarts my heart and I open my eyes to see that I’m alone. The shower is running and the bathroom door is open, which surprises me. I wonder if he always leaves the door open in the morning, and I’ve never noticed because I’m always asleep when he gets up.
I’m starting to drift off again when the sound of the water stops abruptly and Jean-Luc comes into the room. He’s wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, his ripped, muscular chest on display, and he smiles at me as he approaches the bed.
“Time to get up, sleepyhead,” he grins, and leans over the bed to kiss my forehead. “I put your clothes out on your bed, and you can get ready while I make breakfast.”