Chapter 3
Samuel
She’s been teasing me for too long.
Is she innocent?
Yes. I’ve made sure of it. Keeping her sequestered here since she was fourteen, when my bank account allowed for this upgrade.
The madness that surrounded thoughts of her in my head forced me to isolate us here, with razor wire around the compound and half the island dotted with signs that read PRIVATE PROPERTY: TRESPASSERS WILL BE BEHEADED.
My hired ‘groundskeeper’ is also an ex-special ops enforcer with zero interest in females.
All of which has kept her on lockdown since we moved.
Not that I let my thoughts wander where they shouldn’t until her eighteenth birthday loomed.
Still, whether she knows it or not, my little sister is a fucking slut when she’s around me.
Calling me Daddy.
Wearing things I buy for her, like right now, a seemingly innocent linen dress that she manages to turn into sex on a stick, with no bra, her lips glossed pink, eyelashes fluttering, and that tongue.
Fuck, if she touches her lips with her tongue one more time, I’m going to stuff her virgin cunt full of ten pounding inches of bro meat without any preamble.
Every tank-top strap that slides off her shoulder, every pair of cutoff shorts that rides up between her legs, and those fucking bikinis that cling like a second skin when she steps out of the pool, her usually curly blonde hair slicked back, fresh-faced, curves she doesn’t understand yet on display, making my balls fucking demand to unload over thoughts of those freckles shimmering with tears, and white sticky drops of my cum on her cheeks as she smiles up at me and asks…
Was that good enough, Daddy?
I’ve had a view of those tight little lips of hers down low, too, and nipples that make my mouth water. They’ve all been a fucking invitation I’ve been too disciplined to accept. Until now.
Her scent pounds through me, canceling out any of that baking sweetness that lingers in the air.
That strawberry shampoo she’s used since she was fifteen, mixed with that budding sexual cocktail her body brews when she’s nervous around me...
She’s always nervous around me now.
And, holy fuck… I like it.
I close my eyes and inhale deep, tasting her the only way I can.
But it’s not enough anymore.
It’s a game of chase when I step closer to her.
Those ocean-blue eyes are so wide and innocent, those freckles across her nose, the two tiny little indents from the glasses she wears when she’s studying. Golden spirals of wildness around her oval face and down to the middle of her back.
Not to mention the floaty little dress that shows off legs I want to spread before licking her from toes to cunt to ass.
I’m her stepbrother, and the man who practically raised her after our parents proved themselves completely useless.
And somewhere deep down, a dark, wretched part of me knows that noticing her the way I do is sinful. Depraved. Shameful.
I am a sick, rotting bastard, and none of it matters anymore.
That’s why she’s here, permanently trapped on an island I’ve called my fortress for the last four years.
I own half this damned rock, and the only civilization is a ten-mile drive along a winding dirt track through the wilderness to the other side.
Yet, even with all those miles of jagged cliffs and open ocean between us, I still break into a cold sweat at the mere, terrifying thought of CeeCee slipping past the compound gates and disappearing from my life.
Or worse, getting hurt. I can’t fathom it. I can’t breathe through it. Both of those scenarios are unacceptable.
Panic dilates her eyes as I cut off the space between us with my body, but I also don’t miss the little gasp, the flutter of her lashes.
She’s never had a boyfriend, I’ve seen to that. Eighteen years old and never been kissed. That cunt of hers I’m sure is pencil tight.
I know she’s curious. I’ve seen the way her eyes linger on the bulge under my sweatpants when I finish my workouts full commando.
I stopped trying to hide when I’m hard around her.
Let her look. It’s her fault after all, and the monster she’s unleashed in me is coming for her.
She should know that.
“Daddy?” Her lips tremble, her blue eyes flicking between my face and the floor, unable to settle, balancing the tray in her hands like she doesn’t know what else to do with it. “What are you…? You’re scaring me.”
I lick my lips. “Perhaps you should be a little scared, baby.”
My cock is already an iron bar against my thigh, trapped in my pants and pounding with the mad lust she created.
Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip while her eyes track downward.
Her sweet little tits rise and fall. The freckles across her nose stand out against skin that’s flushed pink now, creeping down her throat and blooming into flowers under each collarbone. Maybe she knows what she does to me. Maybe it’s a game for her…
One way to find out.
I drag my knuckles up the side of her belly, pressing the linen tight against the skin. I feel the muscles underneath jump at my touch.
Her stomach hollows. A desperate high-pitched whine escapes her throat that is somewhere between a gasp and a whimper.
“You’ve been teasing me,” I grunt. “Walking around this house in your tiny fucking shorts, barely there dresses and skirts. Bending over counters. Calling me Daddy, then watching my cock rise in my pants.”
Her head shakes, golden curls swinging against her back. “I don’t— I wasn’t—”
“Bullshit.”
I cup her barely there tit through the dress, and heat rolls off her like it does the sand outside the villa at this time of year.
The hard little pebble of that nipple that’s been teasing me since I walked into the kitchen notches against my palm.
She stands stone still, her eyes dropping to her chest where my thumb rolls over it once, twice, as her breathing turns to panting.
“You think I haven’t noticed?” I pinch and tug through the linen, her gaze flying upward to meet mine before her eyes roll back, and she makes the most beautiful, desperate whimper.
”Tell me, little sister, why did you start doing your yoga on the veranda every morning before my first cup of coffee?
You never did that before your birthday, so don’t try to tell me turning eighteen didn’t change something for you.
You don’t try to hide that little wet spot between your legs when you stretch, making sure I can see. ”
“S-Samuel—”
She grips the cookie platter like a life ring but it’s shaking. The cookies slipping from their perfect spiral into chaos.
“Daddy,” I correct her. My other hand clamps onto her jaw, fingers digging into the soft hinge where her bones meet.
“You call me Daddy from now on. You started this, and I’m ending it.
No more Samuel bullshit. I raised you, did all this for you.
” I growl, swinging my head around, indicating the whole house, the whole island, the whole fucking world, then focus back on her blushing face. “You owe me.”
I shove my knee between her legs and force them apart.
The floaty little skirt rides up her thighs as the furnace of her pussy bakes a wet spot through her panties into my thigh.
The tray shakes and she’s a breath away from dropping it all.
She’s soaked. The heat radiates through the double layer of fabric like she’s got a fever burning between her legs, and maybe she does. God, I hope so.
I push my thumb through her lips into that wet, warm mouth, leaving any thoughts of how I should stop this behind.
Her lips close around it instantly.
Her cheeks hollow, and she sucks my thumb like she’s been waiting her whole life for something to fill her mouth.
Her tongue swirls around my knuckle, and I crush my lips to the top of her head. I used to kiss her here so softly. Comforting her, assuring her I would always be here.
Which I will be, but everything else has changed.[GK1]
Jesus. She draws my thumb deeper as I run my tongue down her forehead, over to her ear.
“Keep sucking,” I order, then devour the nape of her neck with lips and tongue and teeth, until her tiny body is practically convulsing, my thumb damn near tickling her tonsils, her teeth denting into the hard bone of the joint at the base of my thumb.
Would her pussy suck me in like that?
“There’s nowhere for you to hide, CeeCee,” I growl into her throat. My voice sounds like gravel crushed under a boot. “You know you’ll never get away. You know how dangerous the world is out there.”
She moans around my intruding digit. A wet, desperate sound that vibrates through my hand, straight to my balls.
I pop my thumb from her lips, and a string of saliva connects us for a heartbeat before it breaks.
Her lips are swollen and glossy. Her chest heaves against my hand, still clamped on her tit. The top of her dress has shifted, and I can see the edge of her areola, pale pink against the cream of her breast.
“But it’s dangerous in here, too. I’m going to show you what you need to do for me now.
I want to show you danger that’s exciting.
Danger that feeds a part of me I’ve kept from you.
I want to chase you through this house. Want to hear your bare feet slapping against the hardwood.
Want to find you hiding in a closet with your hand between your legs, because you can’t figure out the difference between fear and lust.”
Her breath comes in ragged pulls now. Her pulse hammers against my fingers wrapped around her jaw, and I count the beats like a hummingbird is trapped in her throat.
“Daddy? What’s… What’s going on?”
“There’s a price for everything in life.” I let her go, stepping back, reaching down to adjust the thickness down my leg. “I’ve been patient. I’ve waited for you to grow up. But you’ll earn what I give you from now on. In whatever way I say.”
“I don’t…” She swallows, and I watch the movement ripple down her throat. “I don’t understand.”
I lean closer, tipping the tray enough that the cookies shift but don’t fall. My mouth brushes the shell of her ear, and she shudders, her knees buckling for a second before she recovers her balance.
The hard center of my thigh between her legs catches her weight, and her hips flex, grinding her hot little snatch against me involuntarily.
“You understand perfectly, baby. Or, at least your pussy does,” I bite her earlobe, and her yelp makes my balls draw up.
I grab a handful of her ass through that flimsy dress. The flesh gives under my fingers, and I squeeze until she whimpers. She’s all curves and softness, and eighteen years of never being touched like this.
She’s a drug I’ll never recover from.
I draw back, our panting breathing warm between us, her eyes meet mine, and something cracks open in her expression. The innocent mask slips for half a second, and beneath it, I see hunger.
Lust so raw and fucking desperate, for a second I think she might cry.
Or beg.
I’m good with both.
She’s wet for me. I can smell it rising off her skin like perfume.
“Daddy…” she whispers.
I inhale, then exhale into her ear, “Run little girl. RUN.”
I step back so suddenly she falls forward.
Her hip catches the edge of the cabinet to her right, and the cookie tray falls to the floor with a clatter. One perfect cookie rolls off toward the kitchen door, then gives up and collapses on its side.
She’s frozen for a count of three.
Her chest is heaving. Her thighs are pressed together, bottom lip quivering. The hem of her dress is stuck on the wetness between her legs where I shoved it into her sloppy little cunt with my knee.
My dick throbs like a toothache, and I can’t wait.
If she doesn’t go soon, I’m going to slam her chest onto the counter while I eat that soft little kitty until she’s good and soft and screaming for Daddy. Then I’ll shove my cock so deep, I’ll deliver my seed right into her open womb.
But, she reads me, like she always does, and she punches her fists into my chest and launches herself around me.
She bolts through the archway into the dining room, and her bare feet slap against the marble as my cock jerks so hard I have to grab the counter to steady myself.
Fuck. It’s beginning. There’s no going back now.
I count to five, listening to the sound of her disappearing deeper into the house. Past the formal living room. Up the stairs. Her bedroom door doesn’t lock. None of them lock. Not for her.
“You can run, baby,” I call into the empty kitchen, rolling my head around on my neck as blood rushes through my ears. My voice echoes off the marble and stainless steel as I curl my fingers into fists. “But I’ll always find you.”
The chase is on.
I turn on my heel, kick a cookie with the toe of my shoe and run.