Larissa #2
“Hoover is my brother, Larissa. You and I aren’t related, except by his marriage to your mother. Does that bother you?”
He’s my uncle.
I should care.
I should care so, so much, but his hands are on my thighs, warm and heavy, gently moving back and forth as his eyes slowly trace over my body.
I hate Hoover, but there is something about being here, about feeling little and safe and cared for, that I can’t put into words. Even as I fight it, something inside of me feels connected, willing, and ready to submit to this strange new life.
I’m lust blind, and anything rational is pushed out of me to be replaced by the gnawing need to have this man inside me.
“I’ll admit, the desire to fuck you bloody has been hard to fight. I don’t just want you, Larissa, I want to possess you. Stuff you full of me so you’ll never understand who you were before. But I won’t force myself on you—"
I cut him off, raising my body onto my knees and kissing him hard and wild. Every part of me craves him.
I feel his power, smell his lust, and I want it all — on me, inside of me, everywhere. I feel the hard muscle tense under the fabric of his suit, the points of his lapels gently tickling my raised nipples.
He breaks our kiss, leaving me feeling breathless and fraught with hunger that swells until I think I might have a stroke.
Leaning me back, he lays me down, pulling my wrists above my head, stretching me as my belly shakes, unable to look away from the severe lines of his brow, the flex of his square jaw. I can see a raging fire behind the green irises, a tinder ignited, and I suddenly fear what I may have started.
The fear won’t assuage the wetness that is growing between my legs. Every touch of his fingers only adds to the already steaming warmth that radiates inward until I feel the screaming fire on my bottom meet with the heat from my core.
“Daddy is going to show you what it feels like to be his very special girl.”
He tugs at his tie, and I hear the swoosh and snap as he pulls it free and flings it behind him.
“Don’t move,” he orders as he works the buttons on his shirt. My stomach turns inside out as the reality of what is about to happen becomes more and more real with each passing second.
I am about to lose my virginity to a man I barely know.
A man who, it seems, is my… uncle.
God, I’m sorry, but that’s so hot.
All I feel is the overwhelming need to have him on top of me.
I am most definitely not the girl who arrived here drugged and kidnapped.
As he strips the rest of his clothes, liquid fire burns between my legs, my heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings.
“Are you ready, babygirl?”
I have never seen a live person with a body so sculpted, so refined and hard.
As he drops his shirt, the planes and angles of his torso only make the throbbing deeper.
I hear the sound of his leather belt as he pulls it from his pants, the soft zip before he stands in front of me, and I swallow as my mouth falls open.
Every cut of his muscle is taut, smooth skin pulled over each valley and shadow of eight defined squares along his midsection. It suddenly doesn’t feel real. A man like this has to be a Photoshop creation, not flesh and bone.
His hand lowers, and I dare to finally look directly at the engorged shaft that dominates my vision.
He strokes the length as he watches my face.
I have no reference of anything so large being real.
I’ve seen pictures, watched some free porn with girlfriends, but nothing I’ve seen could have prepared me for what stands out tall and thick in front of Daddy.
Tension grips my heart like a fist. Blood rages through my ears like a hammer. That voice in my head urges me again to run, to get out, that this is a mistake of such proportions I will never be the same.
But my instinct has me frozen in place. I feel like the virgin on the altar, while the King awaits his moment to take me and assuage the cruel gods.
“You are Daddy’s beautiful girl.” His hand continues to stroke the length of his shaft. It hypnotizes me, and I feel the blood drain from my face. “Open your legs,” he commands, his voice quiet but sure.
The skin and muscles in my legs vibrate. It takes a long moment for my body to respond to my brain’s command, letting my knees fall gently open.
Daddy’s eyes are on fire, intent and piercing as his cock rages in his hand.
“I’m scared,” I whisper.
The sight of his massive cock has a scream banking in my throat. Every rational thought in my head tells me there is no possible way he will fit inside my tiny, virgin body.
“Fear is one of the strongest emotions. Embrace it. Harness it. Do not push it away.”
He moves, finally approaching me as I lie stretched. My arms have not moved from where he positioned them above my head. My knees are bent, open like a vulnerable patient ready for examination.
I gasp as he kisses my knee, then runs his tongue down the inside of my thigh. The vibration turns to shivers that clutch and release each muscle until I’m a trembling mess.
The warmth of his tongue swirls downward. I know his destination, and blood rushes to my sex.
The anticipation winds me tighter and tighter until I whimper and shake, waiting and praying for his mouth to contact my open, soaking slit.
“God, please…” I beg. I am not even sure what I’m begging for, but a deep need tears at me from inside. And in my very core, I know that Daddy understands and will give me what my soul craves.
His fingertips press into the soft flesh of my inner thighs, pushing me apart farther until my hip joints ache and refuse to move.
I lie splayed in front of him, tied down without ropes, restrained by his power and my crazed fear and desire.
I feel each fold of my wet lower lips peel apart, meeting with the cooler air as he spreads me in front of his face.
He regards me like an expert jeweler seeing a rough diamond, and with a skilled eye, deciding on the first, most important cut.
I can feel the heat from his face, the soft, humid flush of his breath. He is so close that my hips are shaking, and I want to scream and raise myself up. What is he waiting for?
“Please…” I beg. With that word, my body seizes into a knot as he plunges his mouth, open and gaping, onto my waiting sex.
Overwhelmed with sensations, my hips spasm, and the muscles in my lower back twist me into a U-shape.
My spread thighs convulse as his tongue tastes me slowly, deliberately, from the top of my opening, down over the hood of my clit, into each fold, and finally, plunging deep into my dripping opening.
He laps and slowly devours me as my skin feels like it has been doused in freezing alcohol, then lit with a match.
How can the simple connection of two parts of the human body entwine and converge to create such a sensation?
It is beyond words. Pleasure is a shadow of what is happening right now as his tongue explores my flesh.
His face dances up and down as his tongue finds every space to explore.
He looks up at me, those eyes attacking me as his mouth does its damage.
He is an animal, tearing into me with lips, tongue, and teeth.
My body seizes as he sucks around my clit, his fingers spreading my outer lips, giving him full and unfettered access to my most intimate parts.
The way he looks at me tells the story of how my pleasure is his pleasure.
He watches for my reactions, moving instinctively up and down, sucking, then pushing his tongue into my opening, fucking me gently and slowly.
Quickly, he begins to move faster, harder, his face thrashing back and forth as his tongue penetrates my dripping opening.
My belly tightens as he presses hard with his tongue, sucking firmly, then swirling around my clit in a magical rhythm that covers my body in goosebumps, and I feel like I am going to burst apart into a billion tiny pieces.
He focuses his mouth, consuming the top of my mons, and artfully lapping and sucking until I gasp, my fingers intertwined, and my hips take on a life of their own, pushing up and onto his face. He doesn’t stop, edging me toward that ultimate prize.
His mouth is unrelenting. I have never felt anything like this.
A warm tickling begins in my feet, curling my toes, racing upward along the backs of my legs.
In a split second, he pushes his face onto me, and my body detaches from my mind in an explosion of such sensual bliss, I scream into the soft white fabric of the canopy above.
He rides out my climax with his face planted firmly, laving my open slit until my hips jerk on his face, my body bounces on the bed, and my mind goes blank except for the pinnacle of pleasure that has erupted and threatens to leave me melted and useless on the silky, soft, white cotton sheets.
Then something happens. Waves of the most intense pleasure I have ever experienced in my life soften. I desperately want it to go on forever, but even as Daddy’s tongue and mouth begin to retreat, a sensual peace washes over me.
I have never experienced such calm, such thoughtlessness. It must be what drug users describe as that ‘cherry high’, something they crave forever after, a moment so perfect and pleasurable they spend the rest of their lives chasing it.
“You like being a dirty, filthy girl for Daddy?” Daddy raises his face, towering in hard angles and twitching muscles between my legs.
“God…yes.” I stretch my arms even higher, pulling my belly taut, riding out every moment of bliss and peace that envelops me.
“Good. That was gentle. But this…” He grips his still-thickened shaft, the bulbous head crowned with translucent drops that reflect the light shining in from the bank of windows. “This may not be.”