Daddy’s Angel by K.A Knight

Lexi

That night, I can’t stop thinking about the man in the next room. Tyler saw us earlier, I know it. My boyfriend’s dad saw us messing around, and fuck, it had me wetter than I’d ever been. I could feel his eyes on me as I fucked his son’s fingers, wishing they were his. Imagining they were.

Justin snores and flips over as I lie on my back, my thighs clenched as I visualise sneaking into the next room and waking his dad with my mouth on his cock. I can’t get him out of my head. It’s been a month since I met him, and every goddamn time I convince myself it’s all in my head, that he’s not that hot. That it was the wine or the food and my reaction wasn’t real.

Yet my need for him gets stronger each time.

I imagine him fucking me, his arrogant mouth on my pussy. It’s gotten so bad that when Justin and I fuck, I have him do me from behind so I can pretend it’s his dad’s hands digging into my hips and his breath in my ear as he drives into me. But then it’s over too quickly and I’m left wet and wanting, wondering if his dad would make me come.

Turning my head to see Justin, I check that he’s still asleep, his blond haired tousled. He looks nothing like his father. When I first saw him, I thought he was cute…but his dad. His dad is like a fucking aged wine, better with time.

Licking my lips, I roll my head away and close my eyes, trying to force myself to sleep. It’s no use. My mind flashes back to those dark eyes locked on my body, the way I could feel his gaze burning a path across my skin as I put on a show for him. Did he like it?

Did he touch himself?

Biting my lip to contain my moan, I glide my hand silently across my thigh, parting them slightly as I slip my fingers into my panties, finding myself wet.

Shit.

I stop and suck in a breath. This is twisted, Lexi, even for you. I force my thoughts away, but just as easily as I do, they come back. I visualise those dark hands parting my thighs and that sinful mouth closing on my pussy like he owns it. Arching up slightly, I curl my finger around my clit, imagining it’s his tongue.

His thick fingers trace down my lips and part them to reveal me to his hungry gaze. Trailing my fingers down, I slide one and then another inside me, gasping at the stretch. My heart thunders. If Justin wakes up now, if he sees me… If he knew I was touching myself over his dad…

The thought makes me hotter, and I kick off the covers slightly, widening my thighs as I raise my hips to meet my fingers, setting a quick, hard rhythm. It would be dirty and quick, his skilful mouth and fingers demanding my release. I’m so close…when Justin’s snores stop. Eyes flaring open, I yank my fingers away and turn my head to meet his gaze as he blinks the sleep away.

If I can’t have his dad, I’ll have him.

The dirty thought hits me suddenly. What if his dad hears us? He’s only next door, and the bedroom door is slightly ajar. He could.

“Hey, babe,” I murmur. He yawns tiredly and flips onto his back.

In one smooth move, I roll over and straddle his lithe hips, pressing my soaked pussy to his boxer-covered cock. I rock against him as he fully wakes up. He blinks in shock but reaches up and grabs my hips. “Lexi, what the—”

“I want you,” I whisper, leaning down and kissing him. He kisses me back, but it doesn’t do much, so I lift my head, grab his hand, and pull it up to my chest, making him cup my tit.

He groans, his cock jerking beneath me, and squeezes them, but not hard enough. It’s clear Justin is more…vanilla than me, but I’m trying. Raising my hips, I reach between us, tug down his boxers, and circle his hard cock. He stretches over to the nightstand and grabs a condom, slipping it on quickly.

Pushing aside my panties, I notch him at my entrance and then slam myself down, taking him in one thrust. Moaning loudly, I close my eyes and rock on top of him, lifting and dropping and rolling my hips, desperately seeking my own release. My eyes stay closed as I shiver and rub my clit, hard and fast, imagining his dad in the next room hearing.

Listening.

His hand wrapped around his cock as he fucks it, thrusting up, pretending it’s me. A moan slips free at that, so Justin reaches up, trying to cover my mouth.

“Shush,” Justin hisses. “My dad could hear.”

Fuck, I hope so.

Reaching behind me, I lay my hands on his thighs and lean back in a long line, rolling my hips and watching his cock slip in and out of me, wishing it was someone else’s. I stutter at that, at Justin’s face, so I close my eyes and turn my head slightly and get back to my fantasy.

I’m back to moaning in no time with Justin groaning beneath me as he fucks me desperately. I can tell he’s already close, so I race to keep up, my finger rubbing fiercely at my clit.

A noise has my eyes opening. It wasn’t particularly loud, but for some reason it caught my attention. Justin is too lost to notice, but I do. There’s a shadow in the hallway. I freeze for a second, knowing who it is. The big outline moves, shifting slightly, and the floorboard creaks again—that was the sound I heard.

I should be disgusted, I should stop.

But I don’t. My pussy clenches at the sight of him, knowing he’s watching me, so I roll my hips harder and rub my clit. I keep my eyes on Justin’s dad’s shadow, and with a whimper, I come. My pussy clamps around Justin’s cock as he grunts and stills below me. But I still don’t look away, my eyes on the shadow.

Justin reaches up and cups my head, turning me to him before sitting up slightly and kissing me. “That was great, go clean up,” he murmurs, as he slaps my hip to get me moving.

Swallowing, I climb off him, my eyes going to the door, but it’s empty now. Did I imagine it…or was he really there?

* * *

I freeze. Did I pick this short skirt for Justin…or his dad? Shit. Justin is already downstairs, and I can hear them talking. We promised to eat breakfast before we left. I’ve showered, done my hair and makeup, and now I’m staring at myself in the mirror. I wear sluttier stuff than this, but after last night, I’m questioning it. It’s a short pleated yellow skirt paired with a white crop top. But I have no other clothes, plus it’s hot as hell outside, so I tug it down and head downstairs.

They are both quiet when I come in. Justin grins while his dad stands—Tyler, I need to stop referring to him as Dad, or worse, Daddy.

Or maybe not.

Tyler heads to the machine in the corner. “Coffee?” he rumbles, his dark voice making me shiver.

“Please.” I nod and smile at Justin as I slip into the chair next to him.

Tyler leans over my shoulder, his arm brushing mine, making me gasp quietly as he places the mug before me. His chest vibrates behind me. “There you go,” he offers quietly.

“Thank you, Tyler.” I swallow as he moves away, almost slumping. He just carries such a power that it’s crazy.

He sits down, his dark eyes on me as Justin eats, oblivious to the tension. “Sugar and milk are on the counter if you want any.”

Nodding gratefully, I stand and then hesitate. Instead of heading around the corner, I do something daring. Justin isn’t looking, and Tyler’s chair is facing me, not Justin’s…

I can’t help but tease him. I lean over the counter to grab my sugar and milk, causing my skirt to lift up my thighs and flash my white panties. When I turn around, I meet his dark gaze, but he quickly looks away and I frown. Why do I want a reaction? Why do I care?

Sitting back down, I make my coffee and then cup it, warming my hands. “So, Lexie, you’re a singer, correct?” Tyler asks, leaning back in his chair, his thick thighs parted.

I nod with a smile. “I am, and a dancer. I studied criminology at university, but honestly, I love singing.” I shrug. “I sang at a bar to pay for my accommodation and courses, and then just decided to stay on after.”

“She’s really good,” Justin mumbles, his mouth filled with food. Tyler’s lips quirk down at that as he stares at Justin in disgust for a moment before looking back at me.

“Well, maybe I’ll see you perform one day. I bet you’re quite the performer,” he comments, those dark eyes dropping to my lips. I shift in my chair and try to ignore the pulsing of my pussy. There’s no missing his double meaning—he’s talking about the pool…and last night.

“Babe, will you grab me a water?” Justin requests as he wipes his mouth. “Fridge.”

Nodding, I place my mug down and slip from my chair, heading to the fridge. I open it and spot the water at the bottom, so I bend to grab one and freeze, realising I’m flashing the whole room, and I can feel eyes on me.

Dark, thrilling eyes.

Forbidden.

Straightening, I turn as I shut the fridge with my hip, but Tyler is gone. I watch his back as he retreats down the corridor while I stand there with the cool bottle of water.

Why do I care?

I shouldn’t, but I do.