My Dad’s Best Friend (A Touch of Taboo)
: Chapter 7

I want to defile you.

“Do it,” I whisper. “I’m right here. I want you to. I need you to.”

Jonas bends me back so that my breasts are in his face. I’m still rolling my hips, still rubbing myself up and down the length of his cock. It feels so good, I never want to stop, but I also need more. I let him take my weight, trusting him to keep me off the floor. He’s still holding back. I don’t need to see his face to know that.

There’s only one thing to do. I up my game. “Please.” I lift my hips just enough that his cock presses to my entrance. “I need your cock.”

“I’m not wearing a condom,” he says it so mildly, as if commenting on the weather.

“I’m on the pill,” I gasp. “I, uh, I’ve been tested recently.” Right after I broke up with my last girlfriend a few months ago. “I haven’t been with anyone since then.”

“I have, too.” He says it so quietly, I can barely hear the words over the pounding of my blood in my ears. “Still not a good idea. I get a feel for this pussy bare, I might never give it up.”

Surely I just heard him wrong. Or it’s all part of the roleplaying we’ve fallen into so seamlessly. Outside of sex, Jonas seems to barely tolerate my presence. Hell, even with sex, he seems to barely tolerate it, though that has a distinct flavor of desire. He’s trying to shock me again, trying to scare me off as if being here in this moment is anything but exactly what I choose.

In this moment, what I choose is to be the dirty little slut he’s named me with such fondness. “Please, Daddy. Please fill me up.”

His exhale against my chest is almost shaky. For a moment, I think he’ll give me exactly what we both obviously want. I really should know better. Jonas shifts his grip on my hair, pulling me up so that our faces are even. He’s regained control of himself. His expression offers me nothing, which only makes me want to provoke him more. Jonas gives my hair a little tug. “I said you have to earn this cock and I meant it. You’re nowhere near that yet.”

I’m not?

I lick my lips, achingly aware of how closely he follows the move. “What do I have to do to earn it?”

“How quickly you ask that. You really would do anything, wouldn’t you?” His mouth twists like he’s unhappy with the revelation.

I know it pisses him off, but I really can’t think up much that he could do that I wouldn’t be into. Not when he’s already broken several of the rules I was sure I wasn’t into. I’m not willing to eliminate much ahead of time… But I think hard, trying to come up with something to appease him. “I don’t think I’d like to dress up like an animal.”

Jonas blinks. “You don’t think you would?”

My cheeks heat, and it feels like that embarrassment is coating my entire body, driving my desire higher. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried it before. Are you into that?”

“No, Blake.” He says it so drily, it’s like the words have sucked up every bit of moisture in the room. “That particularly kink isn’t an interest of mine.”

“Oh.” He’s still waiting, so I dig deeper. “I’m good with spanking and some really rough sex, but I don’t really want any heavy pain stuff.”

“That’s more than fair.” His grip gentles in my hair, moving to my neck and massaging the tight muscles there. “Give me one more.”

One more limit. Why is this man so obsessed with them? Most guys would take carte blanche and run with it, but each limit I put in place seems to reassure Jonas, so I try really hard to think of something else. “Um, I don’t want to do any blood play?” One of the characters in my favorite series had that particular kink, and while it was kind of hot to read about, it’s not something I’m overly interested in trying for myself.

Jonas sighs. “No animal role-play, no heavy pain, and no blood play. Baby girl, you’re leaving the field wide open.” He turns and pushes me down onto the bed. “Up to the headboard.”

I scramble to obey. He follows me, kneeling between my spread legs, and brackets my thighs with a strong grip, urging them farther apart. “You will continue to communicate if something makes you feel uncomfortable.”

There wasn’t a question in there, but I nod all the same. “Yes, Daddy.”

His grip falters on my thighs, and then tightens until I gasp. None of his thoughts show on his face, just a heat so intense I have to fight not to whimper. “That’s right, Blake. I’m your Daddy now, and it’s your job to make me happy.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Now lift that shirt and show your Daddy your pretty pussy.”

It doesn’t matter that he’s had his hands all over me at this point. It feels dirty and damn near unforgivable as I reach shaking hands to the hem of the shirt and pull it up a few inches, baring myself to him. I start to lift it more, but he shakes his head. “Stop there.”

I stop there.

“Now hold perfectly still and be silent.”

A simple enough command that becomes significantly less simple as he slides his hands up my thighs and parts my pussy with his thumbs. It’s humiliating to be spread like this, to have him tracing my most private area as if he’s examining me, judging me, weighing whether or not I am up to his standards. My hand are shaking so hard, I have to press them to my stomach. Or maybe it’s my entire body that’s shaking.

Jonas presses my folds away from my clit. He barely touches the bundle of nerves and I have to bite my lip hard to keep from moaning. “Needy little thing,” he murmurs, almost to himself. I can’t tell if he’s talking about me or my clit. I’m not sure it matters.

He moves back down to my opening, spreading me wide, and then down to my ass. His expression is almost completely neutral…as long as I don’t look at his eyes. They’re like blue flames, ready to consume me. Good. I want to be consumed by this man.

It’s only for the weekend, after all. A chance to get this intense attraction out of our systems so we can move on. Maybe then I’ll finally be able to put that encounter at the Christmas party out of my mind.

But not yet.

I drag in a breath as he tries my opening. “I—”

“Be silent, baby girl.” His gaze flicks to my face. “You wouldn’t want someone to hear.”

Just like that, he’s dragged me into a fantasy I’m not sure I had before this moment. I know we’re alone in his house, but it doesn’t matter, because the thought that I have to be quiet so no one knows what we’re doing is too intense to let go of. I worry my bottom lip and nod. “I’ll try.”

“Do better than try.” He pushes a single finger into me. A moment later, a second finger joins the first. I’m so wet, there’s no resistance at all as he begins to slowly stroke me. Testing me.

I still can’t believe this is happening. For how much Jonas seems to like telling me no, he’s certainly gone from zero to sixty in the space of an hour. Just how far are we going to go?

I want to know. I need to know.

“Did you know I spent the night at that party?”

The question catches me so off-guard, I tense. “Yes.” His presence under my parents’ roof had driven me to distraction. First because he drew me like a moth to flame, and then because even with rejection stinging like a wasp, I still wanted him. I lick my lips. “I fingered myself thinking about you that night.” I match his low tone, our words barely above whispers.

Jonas works a third finger into my pussy the same way he did the first two. Slowly. Methodically. “If I walked into the wrong room, I would have been treated to the same sight I got earlier.”

Me on my stomach, ass up as I fuck myself with my fingers.

I nod, barely daring to breathe. “Yes.”

“In your parents’ house, no less.” He shakes his head. “If I’d walked in and shut the door, what would you have done then, baby girl?”

The room feels like it’s getting hotter with each second that passes. I look down my body to where he’s still finger fucking me. He’s not going after my G-spot the way he did last time. No, Jonas is stroking me like he owns me and he’s reminding us both of the fact. Slow and thorough and possessive. I swallow hard. “I think it would play out a lot like this.”

“Mmm. I think so, too.” He slides his free hand over my hip, fingers dipping beneath the fabric. “You’d roll over and pull up your shirt so you can show me this pretty pussy. How’s a man supposed to walk away from an invitation like that?”

“He’s not. You’re not.”

“I should.” He states it as fact. “You’re not for me, and taking what you’re offering is a shitty thing to do.” Jonas inhales deeply. “Just a taste, baby girl. Just a taste and that will have to be enough.”

Enough for who?

It’s sure as hell not going to be enough for me.

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