Chapter 5
Elijah
I shouldn’t have been so hard on her.
I snort to myself, thinking I should be hard inside her. And I will be.
God forgive me, asleep or not, I’m punching a hole in that cherry tonight and leaving it creamed and bloody.
That’s what I’m thinking as I kick my boots off at the back door, feeling guilty about tracking mud through the house earlier and then demanding she clean it up like some sort of Neanderthal.
I did what needed to be done, and I didn’t want her to see that part of me. My anger toward her was defensive but still unfair. Guilt, possessiveness and rage spun into the Devil’s trifecta. And I’d do it again, God forgive me or not.
No one touches what’s mine and lives.
Ever since the first time I found Daisy sobbing in the corner of her closet in the house alone, with vodka bottles broken in the kitchen and our parents long gone, taking their drink and their fight into town somewhere, the red haze of anger when it comes to her protection cannot be quelled.
I tell myself that perhaps she didn’t notice the way my erection tented the front of my jeans when I came back inside after disposing of the filth that violated my sister in my own home.
I didn’t even come in for dinner. I came to the back door, told her I was too filthy to come inside and had to finish the work on the big hay barn before another storm came through.
She handed me my plate with a sad little smile, and my heart shattered into a million pieces, but I couldn’t trust myself not to push her up against the kitchen counter, tear down her panties and fuck her from behind.
I’m losing control.
I do what I can to slake my lust and the adrenaline surging through my body in the shower before I head down the hall where the slice of pink light from under her door tells me she’s already asleep, or trying.
She loves the little pink lightbulbs I bought for her nightlight, and a punch of shame knocks the wind out of me as my dick takes no quarter, stiffening at the thought of lapping at her pretty little pussy last night.
I rap my knuckles just below the piece of paper taped to her door, yellowing around the edges now with her childlike writing.
Daisy’s Room.
She’d never had her own room before she moved here, and I helped her color the page and taped it to her door so she knew she would always have a place here.
“Daisy, I’m sorry,” I say, standing there, but there’s no reply, so I push on inside. She’s sprawled across her bed, her face peaceful, lips slightly agape.
Softly snoring.
Asleep.
Daisy’s version of asleep.
More like hit with enough tranquilizer to put down my bay stallion for his upcoming castration.
I should just wait for the morning and apologize, start fresh.
Instead, I take my seat in the wicker chair beside her bed and grab the coffee-and-whiskey she’s left for me as she always does, grumpy Daddy or sweet Daddy, with an iced cookie that says Love you, Daddy in yellow piped icing across the top.
Lust and shame squeeze at my balls, and the tendons in my neck tighten. That too familiar thump, thump, thump of blood rushing into the vessels in my penis seals her fate.
I exhale into the darkness, sipping the barely warm coffee, the sting of the whiskey spreading over my tongue as I swallow.
Tonight, I make sure to look at the cookie plate and what might be under it.
And there it is. Another fucking note, folded, with my name written across the top in red colored pencil.
Daddy Elijah
I set down the mug and run my hand back and forth over my head with a low groan. Then I pick it up, unfold it, and let my eyes drift over the letters.
Thank you for always being my protector. When you took care of that bad man, it made me feel…tingly in spots it shouldn’t have. You should know I trust you. With everything…with all of me. I’m very sleepy again, you can do what you need to do. I want you to be happy. I’ll never know, Daddy…
She’ll never know.
Fuck. My erection is at full tilt as her sleepy face rests on the pillow, her hands pressed together under her chin like she’s praying.
We didn’t talk today about last night. I don’t know if she knows or suspects the ways I violated her while she slept.
But this note says she wants me. I feel it deeper in the words she wrote. She wants this.
And what my baby girl wants, my baby girl gets…
Setting the note down, I leave the coffee and cookie. I need something very different tonight.
The girl I’ve raised is laying there, permission to stuff her full of me all but written out on a slip of white paper, cast in pink light. And God forgive me, but I’m about to fuck my sister while she sleeps.
I’m stripping off my shirt, my jeans, my underwear, leaving them in a heap as I close the little space between me and her fate.
She’s on her back, arms flung wide, chest rising and falling with easy breaths. Her perfect round tits are caught tight in a nightgown from years ago. Yellow, of course, and too tight, too short. Made for a little girl’s body, not Daisy’s blossomed curves.
So short I can see…
She’s bare underneath. No panties covering those puffy little pussy lips tonight.
They peek out from the apex of her thighs, the hem of the daisy-yellow fabric cutting across the top of her mons.
My dick surges upward, nearly slapping against my belly button.
How will I ever get this monster inside her little body?
I squeeze it in a punishing grip and have one last moment of clarity. I can walk away now. Suffer the rest of my life for the sins of last night, but never touch her again. Let her have a normal life, away from the forbidden needs of the man who thinks of her as some sexualized daughter-sister.
I’m sick, so sick I can’t even see my way through it. I pump up and down, the steel under the skin as hard as it’s ever been. Focused fury pounds between my temples and across my forehead, down into my chest.
It’s primal. There’s no more should, could, or shouldn’t. There’s just get in there, breed her, wreck her, make her yours forever before she can get away.
“You have no idea what you’ve done to me,” I choke out, swallowing around the reality of what I’m going to do.
I squeeze just below the head of my cock, watching the droplets there turn the taut purple flesh to a shining knob.
She murmurs something unintelligible, draws a quick breath, then I hear the starting pistol go off…
“Daddy.”
It’s a hiss. A breath. I could even be imagining it, but it’s on. The last scrap of my decency is torn away as my cock throbs in my grip, and her unclaimed pussy stares me down like the little animals on the shelf above her bed.
“Daddy’s here, baby,” I tell her as I press one knee into the end of the mattress, hearing the springs strain, remembering last night.
The taste of her, the flavor that lingered on my lips the rest of the night after I went back to my own room and jacked myself raw into the morning light.
“Daddy’s just going to lay down next to you.” More lies. “I want to give you a hug. You like knowing I’m here, don’t you?”
She replies with an exhale and a slight wriggle of her shoulders, then seems to settle more deeply into her pliant position on the bed, and I tell myself she’s giving me permission.
I shift and strain, and finally brace myself over her sleeping form, pink cheeks, hair stuck to her forehead, caging her in beneath me.
I stay like that, holding my breath, the tip of my dick resting on her belly, dripping pre-cum onto her creamy skin.
“I’m sorry,” I groan as I move my hands to her shoulders, holding her in place as I lower my massive frame onto hers, shifting my hips lower, trapping her under me.
I keep my eyes pinned to her face, and I swear a corner of her mouth turns up as the thick mat of my chest hair brushes her tits.
I nudge her legs apart with my knees, alternately pushing hers apart until her knees fall wide, bending them and giving me the altar of my madness.
“Good girl,” I mumble as I lower my face and kiss her sweet, open lips, then her chin, her cheeks, her throat. I kiss each and every freckle. “Daddy’s good girl. I need to do this. I need you to be good and lie still.”
She’s so warm, so perfect and soft.
“Hmmm,” she whispers, trying to wriggle, but she makes no progress in trying to get away. I’m three times her size and hell-bent on doing the unthinkable.
I force my thick thighs between hers, cocking my hips back so my dick can glide along the slick warmth, making my eyes roll back. I’m lost in the offering of her note.
Guilt spasms in my chest as the tip of my dick touches her soft innocence for the first time, and any latent ideas of stopping this run for the hills.
Darkness takes my vision, thoughts of my sister sleeping under me as I rub myself on her body and guide my cock into the warm space between her thighs.
No more, I tell myself as my erection twitches, sliding against her thigh.
This is enough, just knowing that she’s here, that my dick is near her hot center.
I move my hips, and she moans as the head rubs against her soft flesh.
This is enough, I think to myself. “Such a good girl for Daddy. I’m just going to rub it here.”
And then her hips shift against me, and the fantasy is on.
“When I take you to town, you're going to remember this. You’ll kiss Daddy’s mouth, and they’ll know no one else gets to touch what’s mine.”
Another hum, another shift, barely perceptible. Her heat expands through me, up my cock, in my belly, exploding in my chest and balls at the same time.
She’s pressed into the mattress under my weight, but her legs open a little wider, her pussy lips cradling my shaft as I rock it up and down, wetting myself in her warm release.
And my little girl is fucking soaked.
The rage and fury from earlier return as our intimate parts connect. My beautiful sister, like a doll under me, turns me into a monster. “If any man thinks they can touch what’s mine, they’ll end up in the hog pen, just like that fucker this morning.”
She gushes at my violent admission, so sloppy and welcoming, and I damn near nut right there.