Hearing her say that while staring me dead in the eye is too much. I shove myself into her as deep as I can and snarl as I come like a freight train, filling her up as I've done countless times before. This time feels different, though. This time neither of us are hiding from who we are, or what we want.
I get about thirty seconds of afterglow before clarity returns. I push myself up, still buried inside her—I can't leave her yet, I just can't—and stare down into her eyes. She smiles at me, blushing and nervous, and gently brushes her fingers along my cheek.
It's such a tender and affectionate gesture that it's difficult to speak.
“How long have you known?” I demand. “Howdid you know?”
“Since the beginning.” She drops her gaze momentarily and wets her lips. “I thought it was your voice on our first night,” she admits, her voice barely a whisper. “That was cemented when you called me 'Sweetpea' for the first time…”
I close my eyes, sighing. Of course. I used to call her that all the time, as I tucked her into bed or when I put a bandage on her grazed knee, when she was just a kid.
She lets out a nervous giggle, prompting me to look at her again. Worry clouds her eyes as she waits for me to process this. She knew the whole time. She knew I was her stepfather, yet she still let me touch her. She still let mefuckher. Which means if I'm dirty and twisted for wanting her, then she’s just as fucked up.
“Why didn't you say anything?” I ask.
“At first I wasn’t sure you realized whoIwas,” Layla replies, swallowing hard enough her throat clicks, her eyes wide. “I was worried you’d stop, if you knew that I knew.”
“Do you want me to stop?” I don’t know why I’m even asking her that. Even if she wanted to end this, I couldn’t. I want her too much.
She shakes her head. “Not even a little bit.”
The confession makes a shiver run through me, my cock twitching inside her. Her lashes flutter and she bites her lip, open desire and satisfaction written all over her face. I kiss her, cupping the back of her head so it lingers, so I can really enjoy how her mouth feels on mine.
“You really are my dirty little girl, aren’t you?”
She nods, breathless and smiling. “I think I've always wanted you,” she admits. “Back then, I knew I was too young for you, and then there was the whole mess with Mum, but…” She blows out a breath, her cheeks flushed with colour. “Now, you're all I can think about. All Iwant.”
It's like every fucking fantasy I've had for the last two weeks is coming true. Her, beneath me, beautiful and twisted and so perfect, wanting me back. I barely manage to resist pinching myself to be sure I'm not dreaming.
“You have no idea how much I like hearing that.”
She smiles, happy and radiant as she's always been, and wraps her arms around me as tight as she can when I kiss her again.
“So, am I the first girl you’ve kidnapped, or are there others?” she quips.
“You’re the first and the last,” I promise her with a wince. “Not my finest hour, but I started to imagine you with other men and it was driving me crazy. I had to make you see that you were mine.”
“I’ve been only yours since that first time,” she admits. “Once I realized it was you…well, let’s just say you’re all I’ve been able to think about. I even stalked you on social media.”
“You did?” I chuckle. “We’re even more alike than I realized.”
“Well, I stopped myself before kidnapping you,” she teases. “But I kept imagining what it would be like if you found out that I knew who you were…what it would be like to have this out in the open.”
“And?” I prompt.
“And I’m looking forward to more of this.” She wets her lips and smirks at me. “Daddy.”
She laughs as I roughly pull her onto my lap.
“Baby, you’ll be getting so much of me you’ll be begging me to stop.”
8
LAYLA
Mum:
Where are you? If you’re living under my roof, I expect you to be home more than one night a week.