3. Chapter 3
Iwake up with her grinding on me in her sleep.
We made it to my bed at some point.
I had her suck me clean, then I fucked her again on the floor bent in half like a little girl pretzel. I ate her pussy to ease the sting of my girth and the force with which I drove home the point that she was still my little girl, but now, that meant a lot more than it used to.
I carried her naked, her face tucked against my neck like she was hiding from the rest of her life to my bathroom first, explaining that she is to pee every time after sex.
As much as I loved fucking her bloody, I want my little girl healthy and I'll set up all the rules and guardrails necessary to make sure that happens.
She folded into my sheets and dropped unconscious after I cleaned up her battered baby maker with a warm cloth and a kiss to the forehead. I lay behind her stiff as rebar against the curve of her ass and didn't move. She needed sleep more than I needed to demolish what was left of my judgment.
And her sloppy, bloody, cum filled cunt.
Now it's Friday morning. Gray light leaks through the blinds, cutting her body into strips of shadow and skin.
Her face is pressed to my chest, one leg hitched over my hip, and her bare pussy is painting a slick trail across my thigh.
Slow, unconscious figure eights. Her breathing is shifting—deeper, lips parting, brow creasing, she's chasing that edge and I'm right here for it.
I should wake her up. Give her a chance to change her mind.
Instead, I slide my hand down her spine, over the bare curve of her ass, and hold her against me while she moves.
The slickness of her on my thigh is obscene.
Warm and getting warmer with every lazy roll of her hips.
My cock is so hard against her stomach that my pulse is beating in it, and I can feel every unconscious shift of her body like a slow-motion study in want.
Her eyes drift open. I detect the slow recognition of where she is. What she's doing and a flush bleeds from her chest to her hairline.
Her hips stall.
"Don't stop on my account." I mumble against her hair, breathing her in.
She buries her face in my chest. "Oh my god."
I grip her ass and drag her tighter against my thigh. "You were close. Finish."
"Grant—"
"Ride it, baby. Just like that. I think we are way beyond embarrassment at this point. Give Daddy what he wants baby, that's your job now."
She rocks against my thigh, face hidden, dark hair sex messy and stuck to her cheeks. With small, desperate rolls of her hips, and I feel every slick pass of her pussy against my skin, the heat of her, the way her clit rolls on the hard muscle of my quad and her breath stutters every time it does.
I move my hand to her chin, pressing my fingers upward and forcing her to look at me.
"Do you remember all the times you cuddled with me in your bed like this?" The darkness of the fantasy narrows my vision to a tunnel that focuses on her face.
"Uh huh." She squeaks a sound of agreement as I flex the hard muscle of my thigh as she rides it slippery, up and down, up and down.
"I do too. Just like this, look at me, Wren.
Remember my face from all those years ago.
I'm that same man, only now, you're rubbing your hard little clit against me because you need something only a father can give you, isn't that right?
" Her cheeks blush pink and she darts her eyes to my throat.
"Don't you look away. You stare at your father while you rub yourself on him.
I know I'm the man you needed all along, you just needed to come to terms with that baby. "
My cock throbs against her soft little belly and I hold her steady and let her use me and hate how good it feels to be needed like this. She continues her grinding, more fervent and desperate with each flex of her hips.
"That's my girl. Take what you need, baby." I press my lips to her forehead and bite back the urge to pull her onto my hard-on and relieve the tension she's twisted up inside me.
Her movements sharpen. Hips jerking, not rolling. She's chasing it. I press my thigh up into her knowing she needs something hard and the sound she makes is small and desperate and I knew a long time ago she was mine.
But now, I'll chain her to me if necessary. She's never getting away.
She comes with a curse and a slap to my chest and I give her one back on her ass, then another and her orgasm goes nuclear.
"Bad fucking daughter." I growl through clenched teeth, landing my open palm to her ass cheek as she soaks my leg.
Her breathing seizes. Every muscle convulsing as her thighs clamp tight around mine, her pussy pulsing wet and rhythmic against my skin. I hold her through it with my mouth in her hair, breathing in the scent of our sex and that damn shampoo and body wash she loves so fucking much.
"Good morning," I grunt against the side of her head when she finally starts to come down. "That's the way I like for you to wake up. Needy and grinding on Daddy."
She laughs and pulls back far enough to look at me.
She drags her thumb through two days of scruff. Her fingers trace up to my temple where my hair curls behind my ear.
"You have a mean face in the morning," she crinkles her nose, her breathing still fast paced as the rush of pleasure winds through her. "All jaw and hard brows tugging together. But your eyes aren't mean at all. You never scared me."
I turn my head and press my mouth to her palm. "I only look mean because I'm fucking horny baby."
She blinks, those long dark lashes framing innocent eyes and guilt punches me down low. "What are we doing, Grant?"
"Right now, I'm going to make you breakfast." I brush her bangs to the side and place a kiss on her nose. "After that, I want to shoot you."
"Shoot me?" She startles back.
"Photograph you." I catch her chin. Tilt her face into the thin morning light leaking past the blinds, watch it carve out her cheekbone, the slight bump on the bridge of her nose that any other photographer would retouch and I'd kill them for it.
"I want to show you what you look like now that you're mine.
Now that you've been fucked by the man you used to call Dad and now, you call Daddy. "