Little Brats: Olivia: Forbidden Taboo Erotica Page 3

  “Are you shocked?”

  She shook her head slowly. Surprised, maybe. But not shocked.

  “Are you repulsed?” His lips moved against her ear. “Do you think less of me?”

  “No,” she denied it, shaking her head more vehemently now. Oh the irony. “I thought… you would be repulsed by me. That you wouldn’t… want…”

  “Oh Livvie.” His mouth moved to her neck, his breath so hot it gave her goosebumps.

  Her eyes still scanned the page of the book in their hands, reading his erotic words, pictures brought to life, channeled through the mind of the man who held her in his arms. She felt a blush heat her cheeks, her neck, her chest, as she continued reading, worrying her lip. The man could write—far better than she could sketch. The images he brought to life made her knees feel weak. These were his fantasies, laid bare. This was Randall, unmasked.

  “You’re so beautiful.” His hands, both of them, around her waist now, moving over the fullness of her hips. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

  Her gaze flicked up to the date at the top of the page. It was over a year ago. They’d both been hiding this secret, afraid to tell each other how they felt, afraid to cross the line. But now they were at the threshold. They could go forward, but there was no going back. Whatever happened, everything had changed now.

  “I hoped…” He swallowed and she held her breath, feeling his hands move under her robe, parting the material. “I did hope. But I didn’t know, not for sure, not until tonight…”

  So he had told her, had revealed himself to her. She could barely contain her excitement.

  “I know it’s wrong.” His voice was low, hoarse, but his hands didn’t stop moving, working the top buttons of the men’s shirt she wore. “But I can’t help it…”

  “Wait…” She turned in his arms, pressing the journal to her chest, covering her fast-beating heart. Her robe was fully open now. She wore only his shirt underneath. “I have to tell you something.”

  His chocolate-brown eyes gazed into hers, quizzical. She didn’t want to tell him, but he had to know. This betrayal, this thing they were about to do, was far less a crime than he seemed to believe.

  “My mother.” It was the first she’d thought of her since seeing her in the library. “She… Randall, she’s cheating on you.”

  His expression didn’t change. Not hint of surprise or shock.

  “I saw her with my own eyes. Tonight. She was with… two men.” She swallowed, worrying her lip again, watching his face for a reaction. Would he demand to know who? Would he go into a rage?

  “I know.” Randall shrugged one shoulder, shaking his dark, curly head. His glasses made his brown eyes appear even bigger behind them. “She thinks she’s fooling me, of course. But I was that young writer once, hoping to land a book deal, hoping to become the next bestseller. I remember it well.”

  Olivia nodded. So her guess about how they’d met had been spot on. “Well, she is a beautiful woman.”

  “She’s hideous.” Randall’s eyes hardened. “I’ve never known a woman uglier than your mother. My only regret is that I let my own greed and ambition blind me to it.”

  “My mother Are we talking about the same person?” Olivia blinked at him in surprise. “Catherine Comstock is… like… perfect! I mean… have you looked at her?”

  “Have you?” He slipped a hand through her hair, down now, long and flowing auburn over her back. “Sometimes I think fate threw me together with her just so I could discover what I really love. I hated myself when I was writing bestsellers and hobnobbing with your mother’s friends.”

  “But—”

  “I love writing, but I sold my soul when I started writing that thriller crap.” He made a face. “I sold my soul to her. But you, my sweet Olivia. You’re my redemption.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you.” His hands moved to her lower back, pulling her even closer, the journal between them. He looked at it, then at her. “What more do you need to convince you?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered honestly.

  That’s when he kissed her. His mouth captured hers, soft at first, a sweet reassurance, but it soon grew urgent. Her hands gripped the journal until she was white-knuckled, feeling his fingers moving through her hair, over her back, her hips, sliding down her ass. They kneaded her flesh, mouths slanted and exploring, lost in the moment.

  She was breathless, panting, when they parted, staring up at him in wonder. She’d been with a couple guys before—there were men who found her curves appealing, in spite of her mother’s objections—but she’d never been kissed like that.

  “You still hungry?” he asked, glancing at the desk where their food was getting cold.

  “No,” she breathed. Not for food, anyway. She glanced down at the book, pressing it more firmly against his chest. “Read to me.”

  He looked at his journal in her hands and smiled. “You want me to read you a bedtime story?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  He took the book from her, moving to sit on the leather sofa behind them. She watched him open the journal, flipping through the pages, listening to her heart beat, fast as a bird’s under her heavy breasts. Her thighs tightened over the pulsing there and she tried not to sway as a wave of lightheadedness hit her.

  “Come sit by me.” He patted the sofa beside him and she went, curling up and putting her cheek against his chest. His arm went around her and he held the book with one hand.

  “She tempts me. Like ripe fruit, hanging low. So luscious. I want to devour her. Sometimes I think she knows how much I want her. We sit in my office, sharing lo mein and moo shoo out of little cartons, and we talk for hours. I love her laugh. She’s the brightest light I’ve ever known.”

  Olivia smiled to herself, listening to his words, letting them warm her from the inside out. It was a little like listening to the “happy birthday” song—embarrassing to have all that attention and focus on you, but secretly pleasing too.

  “I’m a wicked man, but just watching her walk makes my cock hard. It’s like the whole world swings on that girl’s hips. Her pussy would be so delicious, to juicy and sweet in my mouth. Fuck. I’m doomed.”

  “Doomed.” Olivia giggled, glancing up at him. “Are you doomed?”

  “Indubitably.” He took his glassed off, putting them on the table beside him. It was dark in this little corner and must be hard to read the words, she thought. “I will join a long line of stepfather villains who lusted after their young stepdaughters…”

  “I don’t think you’re the villain in this tale,” she mused, her hand moving down the opening in his button-down shirt, feeling the hair on his chest curling around her fingers.

  “No?” He smiled, closing his journal and setting it aside.

  “I think you’re the hero.” Olivia put her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. She wanted him to know how much she wanted him too. His words had moved her, had given her courage, the confidence to slide her thigh over his and straddle him on the sofa.

  “Oh sweetheart,” he breathed as she wiggled in his lap. His hands moved over the generous spread of her thighs, sliding up under the shirt she wore to grab onto her hips. “Am I dreaming?”

  “I hope not.” She worked the buttons from the top, smiling as he starting working them from the bottom, eager to see her. And she was eager to show him

  “Fuck,” he whispered when she slid the shirt from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor behind her.

  She flushed under his gaze, but she liked the way he didn’t look away. He took all of her in with his eyes, and then, with his hands. They roamed over her, shoulders, collarbone, following the long line of her limbs, turning the corner at the joint of her elbows. Then he cupped her breasts, and they both moaned out loud. He took the weight of them in his hands, let his fingers brush over their cherry-tips, making her squirm.

  “Fucking beautiful,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around her back and pulling her breasts d
own to his face. Olivia cried out as he began to suckle. She worried she would suffocate him, but he wouldn’t loosen his grip. He seemed to want to drown in her flesh, and it felt so good, she thought she might as well let him. Her pussy throbbed, dripping juices all over his jeans.

  “Where are you going?” he gasped as she slithered down between his legs, settling between his thighs on her knees. She undid his pants, setting his cock free.

  “Keep reading.” She nodded to the journal he’d set aside. “I want more.”

  Her stepfather moaned as she took him into her mouth. But he picked up the book and kept reading to her, sharing his words. Erotic words. Pussy. Cock. Fuck. With her name interspersed between them. It made her pussy throb with lust.

  He read as best he could, stumbling over words, stopping, then starting again only to re-read the same sentence as she touched him, exploring, up close and personal, the marvel that grew engorged between his thighs. Her fingers fluttered around the tight cut of the head, played over the hole in the tip, before tracing over each and every vein.

  Her drawings hadn’t even come close to reality. He was far more beautiful like this

  “I haven’t masturbated this much since I was a teenager,” he read, a confession. She licked the tip, tasting his precum, her eyes never leaving his face. “I get off three, four times a day sometimes, imagining the things I want to do to her. I can never decide where I want to come. Maybe because I never want it to end. Those gorgeous tits. That full, luscious ass. That sweet little mouth. I want to decorate her with my cum.”

  “Mmmm.” She licked him like an ice cream cone. Only this was so much better.

  “But her pussy.” Randall sighed, shifting his hips, moving lower to give her more access. Her hand moved underneath to cup his heavy balls and he moaned. “I can’t stop thinking about her pussy. I want to bury my face in it. I want to bury my cock in it. I want to fuck her into oblivion. Is she shaved? Does that gorgeous head of red hair translate down there on her swollen little mound? Jesus, that makes me hard.”

  “It does,” Olivia agreed. He was swelling in her hand, even now. The words had made him even harder.

  “You do.” He swallowed, licking his lips, looking at her through half-closed eyes.

  “Do you want to see it?” She sat up a little between his knees, still tugging on his cock. “My pussy? Up close, I mean?”

  He groaned at her invitation, tossing the journal and his glasses aside onto the table and reaching for her. Before she knew what was happening, he had her on the sofa, legs spread, one foot up on the back of the couch, the other almost touching the floor.

  “Jesus, Livvie,” he murmured, his breath hot against her thigh. “It’s even better than I imagined.”

  “Is it?” She could almost feel the touch of just his gaze. His kisses were feather light, framing her pussy, a sweet triangle. She moaned when his fingers began to explore, sliding through her slit, up and down at first, then side to side, opening her. She was, indeed, shaved, with just a shock of red hair appearing at the top of her cleft. His fingers played in it, tugging gently, before he parted her, this time with his tongue.

  “Oh Daddy!” she cried as swirled his tongue around, slow, torturous, making her wiggle and moan. His tongue moved lower, dipping into her honey pot, tasting. She cried out, her hands going to her own breasts, squeezing her nipples. The sensation was delicious. “Oh please, I want more… more…”

  “More?” He smiled, his finger circling her clit.

  “Please!” she cried, moving her hips as his finger slid down to push into her. “Oh Daddy, lick it. Will you lick it?”

  “I’ve been dreaming of nothing else.” His mouth covered her mound, sucking at her folds, lapping over her sensitive flesh.

  She’d imagined it a hundred, a thousand times, what it would feel like to have him between her legs, but this was nothing like that. Her fantasies paled in comparison to this man, the way his fingers probed, the soft, hot grunting sounds he made as he rutted against her flesh with his mouth, the desperate, greedy lash of his tongue.

  “Daddy!” she cried, her hands in his hair, running through his dark curls, trailing down over his neck. “Oh Daddy, don’t stop!”

  He didn’t. His tongue was pure heaven. She slipped into orbit as he fingered her deeper, the wet sound of her pussy filling the room. He sucked at her flesh, smacking his lips like he was devouring a peach and going in for more.

  “Ohhhh God, Daddeeeeee!” she moaned and bucked with her climax, her thighs trembling, her ass coming up off the sofa. Her pussy spasmed around his plunging fingers as they curled inside her, as if he could draw out every ounce of her juices.

  “Fuck,” he growled as he knelt up between her thighs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Your pussy, baby. Daddy has to have it.”

  “Yes,” she panted, still coming back down to earth, opening her arms for him.

  His jeans and boxers were gone as he shoved her legs open with his, his cock hard against her mound. He kissed her and she moaned into his mouth, tasting herself on his tongue. Her pussy was still throbbing with her climax and she whimpered when she felt the head of his cock riding her seam, up and down, seeking entrance.

  “I have to fuck you,” he cried, hips moving. “Please, baby, put it in.”

  “Easy,” she urged, reaching down and clasping his pulsing erection in his hand. He cried out then, biting his lip as she guided and aimed him. “Okay, Daddy… now…”

  He thrust and they both gasped.

  “Oh Livvie.” His breath was hot in her ear, his lips leaving wet trails over her neck. “Oh God, that’s so good.”

  “Fuck me, Daddy,” she urged, moving her hips up to meet him. The sensation was almost too much to bear. Her cunt was still throbbing, pulsing around his length. The way he stretched her was delicious.

  “Oh baby,” he whispered, moving his hips in deeper, bottoming out completely inside her. “I’m going to fuck you so hard. Are you ready?”

  “Yes!” She squeezed him, pulling a low groan from his throat. “Oh fuck, yes, Daddy! Please! Do it! Fuck me!”

  He let out a low noise that grew as he started to move, turning into almost a roar. His hips rocked into hers, his cock sliding into her like a knife through butter. Olivia wrapped herself around him, arms and legs, hanging on in the midst of the assault. He hadn’t been kidding. He fucked her hard, fast, and deep, long strokes that made her cry out, her breath coming faster and faster.

  “Dadddeee,” she wailed, bucking up to meet him. In spite of her recent climax, her pussy responded to the pounding he was giving her. Her whole body was on fire.

  “Too much, baby?” he eased off a little, propping himself up on his arms to look down at her. His gaze swept over her and he groaned at the sight.

  “No, no,” she protested, shaking her head, running her hands up and down his biceps. “Not enough. Do it harder, Daddy. Fuck me harder!”

  He moaned and arched his back, bottoming out again, buried so deep it hurt. And she loved it.

  “More!” she urged, moving her hips. “Come on, Daddy! Pound my pussy!”

  “Fuck!” he gasped, but he did just what she wanted, driving into her so hard her breasts bounced with every thrust. His gaze moved from her face down to her cleavage and back up again. Their bodies became sheened with sweat as they slid over the slick surface of the leather sofa, surfing a giant tidal wave of pleasure together.

  “Faster, faster,” she urged, rocking up for more. “Oh Daddy! Daddy! You make my pussy feel so good!”

  “Baby, I… Oh fuck, I… can’t…”

  “It’s so good!” She panted into his ear, pulling him down to her, wanting his full weight. He pressed his chest to her breasts, crushing the breath out of her, and she delighted in it.

  “I’m gonna come, Livvie,” he cried, rutting deep and hard. “Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

  Her arousal level leapt from medium-high to boiling in an instant, just at the mention of his cum. She want
ed it. She worked for it.

  “That’s it, Daddy,” she urged, squeezing his cock with her cunt, working it, trying to milk him with everything she had. “Fuck your little girl’s pussy. You want to fill me up with all that cum?”

  “Oh hell,” he groaned, burying his face against her neck, rubbing his cheek through her hair. “You naughty girl.”

  “That’s right, fuck your naughty girl’s hot, fat, wet little cunt, Daddy!” she cried, her words inciting her own lust, feeling his cock swelling inside of her, his balls slapping against her ass. “Come for me! Come for me! Ohhhhh Daddy, your fucking cock is so good, I’m gonna come all over it!”

  And she was, her body writhing, her pussy snapping closed around the driving steel beam between her legs again and again. Her stepfather roared, throwing his head back as his cock burst like a geyser inside of her. She felt every bit of it, pulsing, white-hot blasts of his seed wetting her already wet walls, so much she couldn’t even begin to contain it. His cum ran down her generous ass, through her crack, leaking onto the expensive leather sofa.

  She hung onto him when he went to move off her, keeping him there, grabbing her to him. He kissed her, soft, tender, as they both struggled to catch their breath.

  “Oh, my sweet, beautiful Olivia,” he murmured. “I can’t believe I’m not making all this up…”

  “I know,” she whispered, meeting his gaze. “I’ve never felt so beautiful in my life.”

  “You are…” he assured her. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you feel just like this.”

  “No more make-believe.” She smiled. “No more secrets. No more masks.”

  “Never, baby.” Then he kissed her like he meant it. And she believed him.

  The End

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