Daddy’s Angel by K.A Knight

Tyler

A Month Later…

She’s here again.

In a fucking tiny little red bikini that hides nothing. The material clings to her wet perky ass, and her full breasts almost tumble from the material. Her nipples are pebbled temptingly. Her blonde hair is pulled up in a sloppy bun, and her face makeup free. If I thought she was beautiful with it on, she is downright astonishing now.

I’ve seen her a few times since my birthday, mainly in passing or when we go out for a meal with Justin. Each and every time, I come back with a raging hard-on and feel sick with myself. I want her, even now.

Badly.

It consumes me. I jack off to my own fantasies of her. Of stealing her from my son and teaching her what a real man would treat her like, making her scream my name and ride my cock. Turning away from the window, I breathe heavily. Now she is here. In my pool. Half goddamn naked and wet, and I can’t take it. I even asked him to stop bringing her around. He asked why I hated her. It was better than him learning the truth—that I don’t hate her, the opposite actually. I crave her and the sweetness of her body.

Her innocence calls to a dark part of me that wants to ruin it, that wants to shatter it, claim her, and make her my own dirty little angel. She’s young, barely over twenty, and I’m twice her age. She’s dating my son, but it stops nothing. I still wish I could storm out there, throw her onto the patio, and rip off that tiny suit and tongue fuck her. I bet she would taste as sweet as she looks…

Like she controls my movements, I turn back at her laugh, pressing my forearms to the glass of the second-floor window in my bedroom as I watch her. The sun kisses her golden skin, and her curves call to me, demanding I fill my hands as I drive into that tight little cunt.

Justin splashes her, and she splashes him back before he grabs her and reels her in for a kiss. She doesn’t even fucking moan. She would if I did it. I would plunder that mouth until she couldn’t breathe without me. He slides his hands down into the water, and I have to close my eyes as jealousy roars through me.

She isn’t mine, but fuck, I wish she was.

I can’t help but torture myself, unable to turn away as he hoists her from the water and perches her on the pool edge. He kisses her again, and her eyes close as he turns her head and kisses down her shoulder and chest, ignoring her silent plea. She thrusts her ample chest out, and he doesn’t so much as even touch them, the fucking idiot. I would yank down that string and lavish them with my tongue, making her beg from that alone.

But he doesn’t. His hand slips past her bikini bottoms, and I feel filthy for watching. I’m about to turn away when her head falls back and her eyes open, scanning the garden and the neighbours before perusing my house. Fuck.

They slide past the window I’m in and flick back in shock, locking on me. She can see me. She knows I’m watching like a perv. Yet she doesn’t say anything, instead she freezes briefly before closing her eyes again and parting her legs further for him.

Dirty little girl.

Does she want me to watch? Is she teasing me? Does she like it? If the way she moans is any indication, she does. She seems wilder now that she’s aware my gaze is trained on her thrusting hips as he fucks her with his fingers. It’s over all too soon though. She moans loudly, fakely, and he pulls back with a smug look.

That fucking idiot. She faked it.

I rip myself away from the window before I storm down there and take her myself, showing him exactly what to do with a woman like that. How to make her scream, writhe, and beg for your cock. To take hours tasting her, learning her.

Heading to the shower, I strip off quickly and palm my cock, the image of her eyes on me seared into my brain.