AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I stagger to my feet, pumping my cock furiously as it spurts all over her stomach. I aim it down and spray her mound with copious amounts of my cum. It's a caveman move, but it fills me with satisfaction to see her pussy covered in my seed.
When I finally stop coming and regain my senses, my gaze finds Layla. She's staring up at me in shock, her mouth hanging open.
Reality comes crashing back down on me. I’m disgusted with myself. My god, did I really just speak all that filth to her? Calling myself her daddy and jerking off all over her?
I can’t look at her as I promptly zip myself back up and take off to my bedroom. I need to put as much distance as I can between Layla and me before I lose it and do what I've been dying to do since the moment I first laid eyes on her—jam myself so deep inside her she'll never be able to think about another man.
seven
Layla
I'm horny and pissed and frustrated and confused and so mad at Jay I want to slap him.
My shoulders slump. No, I don't want to slap him. I want him to talk to me. I want him to hold me. I want him to fuck me and make me a woman, make me his.
I was giving him attitude when I called him Daddy last night, but something clicked within me as soon as the word left my mouth. Something deep and dark and forbidden.
It felt right to call Jay Daddy. I don’t know where this is coming from. It's not like I have deep-seated daddy issues, but Jay is my daddy. The man who takes care of me. The man I want to run to when there's a storm. The man who gets me so hot and bothered I’m tossing and turning and aching all night.
And he liked me calling him daddy as much as I did. There was this animalistic look in his eye—like he couldn't control himself.
I loved it.
He was finally going to give us what we both wanted. He called himself my daddy, spoke such deliciously filthy things in my ear and marked me with his cum. It was hot and raw and primal, and then he stormed off to his room, and I haven't seen him since.
He's locked me out, no doubt convincing himself that what's between us is wrong.
But it's not wrong. I'll never believe that. It's just us. Jay and I have a connection. It pulses between us like a live wire. It sparked to life the moment he showed up to get me and bring me to live with him. It doesn’t make sense, and it doesn't have to. I don't care. I can't fight this, and I'm tired of Jay fighting it.
He thinks he's too old for me. He feels guilty because I'm his friend's daughter. He thinks he's taking advantage of me since I live with him.
But it’s not true. I see the way he looks at me. I know he feels the same way I do.
When morning rolls around and he still hasn't emerged from his room, I decide to take matters into my own hands. If he wants to lock himself away from me, I'll be a little brat. I’ll push him if that’s what it takes. If getting him angry is the only way to get his hands on me, that's what I'll do.
I rifle through my bags and smile when I find what I'm looking for. I put on the tiny scraps of fabric. Jay is not going to be okay with me going out looking like this, no matter that it's a bikini and entirely appropriate for the beach.
I flounce out of my room, letting the door fall shut heavily. I don't stomp through the house, but I allow my footsteps to fall harder than they usually do. Heading into the kitchen, I take my time pouring a glass of orange juice. I open and close a few drawers and cabinets, letting them fall shut instead of gently closing them. I want to make my presence known without being too obvious.
It's Saturday, and I'm not sure how late Jay sleeps in on the weekends, but he'll have to come out of his bedroom sooner or later. I'd prefer it be sooner.
I sit at the barstool and slowly sip my orange juice, trying to make the glass last so I have a reason to be sitting here when he gets up. Fortunately, I don’t have to wait long.
My heart jumps into my throat when Jay walks into the kitchen. He takes one glance at me, and his eyes widen comically before his mouth presses into a firm line. I fight back the grin threatening to spill across my face as he shakes his head.
His gray eyes are stormy and promising thunder.“No way.” His voice is gruff.
I raise an eyebrow. “What?” I ask innocently.
“Absolutely not,” he growls as he stalks over to the counter and plants his hands on it, staring at me. “There's no way you're going out like that.”
I shrug. “Like what?”
“In those two scraps of fabric.”
“Oh, you mean a bikini?” I keep my eyes wide and innocent before I add, “Because this is what girls wear when they go to the beach, Jay, and I'm going to the beach.”
I leave the discarded orange juice on the counter as I hop off the barstool and start walking away from him.
