Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
All who I vetted carefully.
She doesn’t know it, but I’m with her every moment. She’s grown into herself in the two years since that first picture. Her round ass deserves fucking shrines built in its honor. Her thick thighs and D-cup tits fill my dreams day and night.
My dick weeps as her golden green eyes stare back at me from the photo, those little creases at the tops of her lips when she smiles teasing how her mouth will look stretched around my thick dick.
There are at least a hundred pictures of her watering her plants. Fuck, she loves those plants, and I feel a rush of hot rage.
I’m jealous of a Philodendron.
My cock grows harder, knowing she won’t come with me easily. That’s not her way. She’s a hellcat disguised as an angel but anticipating her fight has only fueled my lewd and inappropriate fantasies.
I flip through some more pictures, biding my time, gathering my calm.
Ah, this is one of my favorites.
She’s in the kitchen, making ramen, cracking the eggs into the boiling water with one hand the way I taught her when we lived together.
In many ways, she’s more like me than her mother. More my daughter than hers, even if we’re not biologically related.
I was the one who gave Bijou a safe, calm space. I taught her about field dressings and how to properly clean a gun.
What did her mother give her, except those golden green eyes?
Then, I was gone, and I broke all those unspoken promises I made to always be there for her. I had to. She was off limits. I am a bad man. She deserved better.
Ripping my eyes from the images on my phone, my blood begins to boil as I sit across the street in the driveway of a house I bought just for the purpose of having a secure point for keeping an eye on her. I scan the front of the Mediterranean-style stucco mansion I bought for our new family when I married her mother.
I willingly let her keep it when she divorced me. I didn’t give a shit. I bought the monstrosity of a Playboy-style mansion across the street the same week I moved out, making sure I could always have eyes on her. I had to convince the occupants to sell in ways they eventually couldn’t resist.
I don’t live here, I just use it for watching her and housing my security team that keeps her always under surveillance.
But I see duct tape on a broken front window, and my stepdaughter should not be living in a house held together with tape. Until a month ago, the landscaping was so overgrown I was barely able to get a good shot of her through the windows. So I hired a landscape company to come and clean it all up.
Her mother went full-on bitch-fit, telling me it was her house and I had no right.
I have every right.
Then, I found out my stepdaughter had talked to a detective from the FBI and I lost it. I was sure that asshole Letrov, her father, was behind it.
She should know to keep her sweet, cherub mouth shut, but I’d bet it all that he and her mother told her to talk. After all I did for her mother, she went back to that fucker who gave her a black eye that had her father begging me to protect her.
I hate that Bijou is going to pay the price for her mother’s ingratitude. But I’m well beyond madness, imagining her soft little body squirming under mine as I rut into her like a fucking junkyard dog. I’m going to make demands and I know she will fight, but I won't take no for an answer.
She will curse and kick and snarl and bite, and I welcome it all. It makes me fucking hard. Somewhere between Barbies and birth control things changed.
I’ve played out this moment so many times, my hand cramps thinking of how I’ve fisted myself to thoughts of my innocent stepdaughter taking it hard. Thoughts of filling her with my cum and smearing her virgin blood on my cock.
I've seen the books she reads. All about dark romance and mafia bosses. I’m what she wants, she just doesn’t know it yet. One of the books I stole from her room is filled with some depraved shit with her little Post-its and highlights noting the filthiest parts.
I stow the binoculars, then draw a shuddering breath, lowering the image of her face on my phone against my hard-on.
“Give Daddy a kiss,” I whisper, then bring it back up, switching over to the email I received from her doctor this morning, heat filling my core.
My dick leaks knowing the numbers were there. No more freedom for my little stepdaughter.
Time to come to Daddy, baby.
I tap back to the security system app as a blue and white Moreno Security cruiser creeps by on the tree-lined street. The driver nods at my blacked-out window as he passes. I nod back, then flick through the camera feeds. One of the interior cameras shows Bijou bending over, plucking some dead leaves off a fern in the sunroom.