Story Title: Stepdaddy

Summary: "I've been waiting for this moment. For my mom and Edward to divorce. I don't care if he's my stepdad. I want him and nothing will stop me."

Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

Warnings: Taboo, stepdad, graphic/dirty, some daddy kink; and a pushy, tempting, and bit of a manipulative Bella.

All characters are of legal age.


"Edward!" I shriek with excitement as I run to him, throwing my arms around his neck. He lifts me off my feet, twirling me in a quick circle.

I lose myself in his firm grip, hard muscles, and the length of his body against mine. I'm intoxicated by the musky, woodsy, clean smell that I've come to associate with him. It's what I've dreamed of every night I've been away.

After holding me for a long moment, he places me back down, his captivating emerald eyes shining with delight as he stares at me, a breathtaking crooked grin plastered on his face. We stand in front of his cherry red pick-up truck which he pulled up to the arrivals area in front of the airport.

"I've missed you so much, Little Swan." My heart swells at the term of endearment Edward has called me since I was younger. "How has school been?" he asks as he grabs my bags from me, throwing them into the backseat of the truck.

"I've missed you too." More than he knows. "It's been okay. A bit stressful, but I'm glad it's finally summer break and I only have one more year left," I say with relief.

He opens the passenger door for me like the gentlemen he is, and I slide in, buckling up. Once he's settled in the driver's side, he pulls away from the curb and into traffic. His toned arm curls around the back of my headrest, and heads toward his—well, our house.

The ride home is comfortable as we catch up and speak about trivial things. Soft music plays on the radio, sun beams through, and wind blows through the open windows.

But we ignore the elephant in the room.

My mom.

His wife.

Or his soon-to-be ex-wife, I should say.

Yes, Edward is my stepdad—has been for the past six years since I was fourteen. And I've been infatuated and harbored a massive crush on him for the past few years.

I never thought anything of it, or that I'd ever have a chance to act on my desires because I wasn't going to be a homewrecker. Especially toward my own mother. But things are different now that they're separated.

I always come home for the summer breaks during college. But this time, my mom's not here. They've been separated for a few months now and are filing for divorce. Thankfully, it's been amicable though, and not a messy or mean divorce.

But I'm not surprised, considering Edward isn't close to being a malicious person, regardless if people screw him over. His heart's too big for his own good, and it was one of the things about him that stole my own heart.

They were still living together while Mom sorted her things out. She planned to move to Arizona which is where she's originally from. She's there right now, moving her stuff in, setting up her new life. She only has one more trip to make back here before everything is moved there. Mom felt bad she couldn't see me right away but agreed it was a good idea to stay with Edward until she was completely moved into her new place.

She didn't realize that was the best thing I could've asked for. I'd much rather be here than Arizona—where Edward isn't.

Edward's staying in the house he and Renee bought when they first got married: the one I'd spent all my teen years in. I have no idea if he plans to sell it once she leaves for good, but I hope he doesn't. I have so many amazing memories in this house because of him and don't want to lose them.

I know. I know. Does it make me a shitty person to seduce my mom's soon-to-be ex-husband before the divorce is finalized—even if after?

Yes, probably.

But I've never wanted someone so badly, and my mom and I were never the closest. Or maybe that's just my shitty way of justifying taking her husband. But to be fair, she and Edward have been on the outs and having problems for a while now. She met someone else—Phil—who Edward knows about. Edward's not taking it as badly as I thought he would, considering he has been with her for a while… but that's a good thing for me—I guess.

Once we arrive at the house, it's pouring outside. Rain comes down hard, hitting against the roof of the truck.

We glance out the window, trying to come up with the best way to avoid getting soaked. "We can get my bags later. Let's just make a run for it," I tell him, my hand on the handle.

I'm not in the best clothes to get drenched in—jeans shorts and a white t-shirt.

We open our doors at the same time, making a dash to the porch. I squeal and Edward laughs richly as a rush of the downpour hits us, soaking us in seconds. It's heavy and cold against my skin. My stomach flutters as he tries to cover and protect me from the rain. Although it doesn't do much to keep me dry, he shields me with his body, getting wetter than me.

Once he hurriedly opens the front door and we rush inside, the A/C makes my flesh chillier, and I break out into goosebumps. I glance at Edward, and of course, he would look even more gorgeous, drenched and dripping from the rain.

His honey-colored, tousled hair is matted against his forehead as droplets of water slide down his smooth, tan skin. Over the sleek slope of his nose, down his pouty lips, and along his sharp chin and jawline that could cut glass. His tight black shirt sticks to every sculpted muscle of his hard body—his strong chest, defined abs, and bulging biceps.

Edward is in amazing shape for his age—thanks to his religious daily exercise routine—and doesn't look a day over thirty-five. He's a couple of years more than double my age at forty-two, but he has amazing genes, no wrinkles, no grays, and not an ounce of fat on him.

He has a massive smile on his face and is softly chuckling as he takes in my wet form until his eyes shift down my body. He stiffens, his expression becomes serious, and his lids get heavier. He swallows and I can see his Adam's apple bob beneath his skin as he runs his hand through his messy, dripping hair.

I'm not sure what's wrong until I glance down toward where he's staring, and my skin flushes despite the coldness as I take in my puckered nipples protruding through the thin cotton of my shirt. I'm wearing a bra, but it's very thin and not padded, so it doesn't cover much now that I'm wet. Instinctively, I feel the need to cover up, but I don't.

This is exactly what I want.

For him not to see me as a girl anymore. To not see me as his stepdaughter. To see me as a woman.

Someone to touch. To kiss. To ravish. To love.

To fuck.

I don't think or worry about the consequences as I step toward him until my hard nipples and wet skin brush against the material of his shirt.

For a moment, he becomes lost in the same trance I'm in and reaches out to brush away the hair that sticks to my forehead.

My skin tingles and I lightly gasp in shock at the electricity that runs through my body. I know he feels it too by the way his eyes darken and widen. His fingers twitch against my skin as they slide down my cheekbone, brushing softly. Lost in the feel of my skin.

I lean in closer, lifting my face up, my lips inches away from his, his breath warming me. My hooded eyes meet his, and I can see the lust and heaviness in them, something I've never seen from him before.

But at that moment, the heat or electricity between us snaps him back to reality because he jolts away from me as if I have just shocked him.

Edward shakes his head as if trying to banish whatever thoughts rummage through his mind and clears his throat. "Umm, you should go dry off and put on some… I mean change your clothes. You don't want to get sick." It's like a switch went on, and he's back to parenting mode. He walks away, avoiding eye contact with me as he leaves the room.

I'm standing there in a puddle of rainwater dripping from me, arousal in the pit of my stomach, and rejection aching in my chest.

But this is just the beginning. I'm not giving up that easily. I know he feels something too.

I'm not sure if he's felt it for a while like I did, and just pushed it down because of my mother, or if he didn't acknowledge this tension between us until he left her. But I won't let either of us deny it any longer.

...

The next morning, it's as if nothing weird or awkward happened between us the night before. Edward greets me as he cooks us breakfast with his usual smile. We chat no differently than normal as we eat together.

Maybe it was all in my head and he didn't feel what I felt last night—what I've felt for the past few years. Maybe he and Mom divorcing won't change anything between us.

I can't stand the thought of him putting himself out there again… dating and fucking other women. Taking them out to dinner and buying them roses. Making love and worshiping them. My heart aches and I force myself to brush away those painful thoughts.

As much as I fantasize about what he's like in bed, the thought also sickens me when I'm reminded that the woman he's been with for the past eight years was my mom.

Does he make love? Is he soft and sensual, exploring a woman's body for hours and driving her to the brink of insanity with pleasure? Or is he rough and dominating and dirty? Filthy words and growls coming from his mouth as he takes and uses until a woman begs him to stop because it's too much?

Or is he the best of both worlds?

A girl can dream.

After breakfast, we go on a walk in our neighborhood. There's an impressive park nearby, with a large stone water fountain, rolling hills, and picnic benches. Right next to it is a dog park with unleashed pets and the shrill excited screams from a children's playground.

It's the beginning of summer and the weather is beautiful. The sun's not too strong as lush clouds fill the sky, wind sweeping by and cooling off our sweat. Flowers are in bloom, full green trees hovering above us, and the musical sound of chirping fills the air.

After talking about basic things, the air growing almost uncomfortable as we avoid the large issue at hand, he finally brings up my mom.

"Bella, you know that just because your mother and I aren't together anymore, this doesn't mean things will be different between you and me, right?" he asks nervously as he twiddles his thumbs.

"I know," I reply quietly, avoiding eye contact. I stare down at my feet as we walk along a stone trail.

I don't want him in that way though. I want him as a companion. A lover. Someone to go to bed with and cuddle. To wake up to every morning. To hold hands and kiss in public. To want to defend me from anyone that hurts me—and not in a protective parental way, but a possessive lover way. To fuck me until I'm screaming his name and coming all over him.

I don't want him as a stepdad.

I've never viewed Edward as a father figure. I've gotten along with him since the day I first met him and had an instant connection. I didn't resent him or think he was trying to take me away from my own father. Although I didn't live with my real dad, Charlie, I didn't need a replacement.

Charlie and I always stayed close, and he didn't live far from Mom and me on purpose, to be close to me. He was determined to be in my life, and even though his marriage to Renee didn't work out, he didn't let that come between us and stayed amicable with her for my sake. He didn't mind Edward either. I saw Dad every weekend until I left for college. Now I visit him as much as I visit Edward and Renee.

I developed a different bond with Edward. Even before I was old enough to realize my feelings for him had turned into lust and desire, I've always viewed him as a companion. Someone I could trust and turn to in need. When I got in trouble, he would be there to help me, and I wouldn't have to worry about him sharing my secrets with Renee. He did a lot for me and was always there no matter what.

All the times he comforted me when a boy broke my heart or threatened anyone that hurt me. Protected me. All the late-night pickups from parties I shouldn't have been at without telling Renee. I could always rely on him if I was in a bad situation. He would drop everything and come pick me up no matter the time or place.

He respected me and had his own special relationship with me. He taught me and gave me wisdom without scolding me or treating me like a child. Always treating me as an equal.

But as I got older, things changed, even though I always kept my want for him on the down low. Because as much as my relationship with Renee was pretty strained, I couldn't do anything with Edward while they were married. But now that they were divorcing, he wasn't off-limits anymore—at least in my mind.

Edward snaps me out of my thoughts by placing his warm hand against my shoulder, bringing me to a stop. "Hey, Little Swan. What's wrong?" he asks gently, his brows furrowed with concern.

As much as it takes everything in me to not tell him how I feel right now, it isn't the right time to make a move yet. I can be patient—for a bit.

I force a smile. "Nothing," I reassure him. "I just already don't see you as much as I'd like 'cause of school. It's gonna be harder to separate my time between visiting you, Charlie, and Renee."

I try to take a different approach. Not being too obvious, but letting him know I still want him in my life. If he and I were together, I wouldn't have to worry about that and we could live together.

I push down the worry of him not wanting more with me because I know I'll lose him for good if that's the case.

Could I still have Edward in my life platonically if he didn't want me? I did for years, but I feel like it would be different now. Things could never go back to how they used to be.

Edward smiles, squeezing my hand. "I promise, even if I have to come to visit you at school and crash on your small ass couch, you're not getting rid of me." He laughs.

I can't fight my lips tilting up in a grin. And although right now we may mean different things, hope fills my chest.

Later on, that day, after we head home from our walk, I go back out to meet up with some friends for dinner to catch up. It's nice to spend time with the people I grew up with since I only come back a few times a year, with my college being halfway across the country.

It was a hard decision to make, considering I didn't want to be so far away from Edward, but I thought the space would do me good, ease off my infatuation. Especially when there was no chance of having him back then. It didn't—all it did was make it worse. It helped that it was my dream school and had one of the best programs for my field. Thankfully, I only have one year left before I graduate and can move back here to be with him—if he wants the same.

That night, Edward stays back and does whatever he usually does on his days off. He took a month off from work to spend time with me while I was visiting.

It's late at night as darkness fills the sky once I arrive back home and unlock the front door. I'm slightly buzzed from the few glasses of wine I had at my friend's place, and thankfully she drove me home.

The lights downstairs are off, which is odd. I check the clock on the wall, and it's only ten. Edward doesn't usually go to bed at this time. Most of the time he waits for me in the living room until I get home, and we spend some time together before going to bed… unless I let him know it's gonna be a late night and not to wait up.

I call out his name, but there's no response. I guess he went to bed early then. Disappointment fills my chest since I won't be able to hang out with him tonight. I can never have enough time with that man. Even the most basic, boring things we do excite me.

I head upstairs to my room to get ready for bed myself, but as I pass by Edward's room, I hear a muffled pained groan. I freeze in my tracks as worry creeps through me. Stepping closer, I press my ear to his door, but there's nothing but silence.

Is he okay? Is he hurt? Did something happen?

I call out his name again but get no response. I know he's in there since his truck is in the driveway and he's nowhere else in the house. The silence scares me, and I'm certain I'd heard a noise before.

If anything ever happened to Edward…

As the worst scenarios play through my mind, I knock hard but still receive no answer. Not willing to wait any longer, grabbing the handle, I slowly turn it, terrified about what I'll find on the other side. My heart beats frantically in my chest.

The door creaks open, and I peek through the crack, just in case he's indecent—or something worse.

And he is… but not in the way I expect. Thankfully the door faces the side of the bed so he can't see me. He has his headphones in, connected to his laptop, which would explain why he couldn't hear me.

Rather than my biggest fears coming true, something from my wildest dreams appears right in front of my eyes. My mouth drops open at what I see, and I have to blink a few times to make sure it's real.

Edward sits with his back against the dark wooden headboard, shirtless, and his laptop is perched on his thighs, comforter bunched behind it, covering his legs.

But my eyes are fixed on his fist, desperately and furiously stroking his erection. Hard. Rough. And Fast.

His cock. His stunning yet intimidating, thick long hard cock that is massive. Pre-cum spilling from the tip.

Another hoarse groan leaves his lips, but this time it's definitely not from pain, and it's a lot clearer. It's deep and husky and thick with lust. "Fuck, Bella. Yes, take all of my cock like a good girl." He moans as he strokes harder, practically strangling his dick.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

My heart drops the same way my jaw does. He said my fucking name. For a quick second, I'm afraid he caught me, but his eyes don't leave the screen once.

He does want me. He fantasizes about me just like I do with him. And he has a filthy mouth. Yessss.

My panties get drenched with my arousal. It takes everything in me to not storm in there and ride him.

I keep switching between watching him rapidly fisting his delicious length and studying his eyes glued to the screen as he bites his lip to stifle his groans.

I can't make out what's on the laptop from here, but I wish I could.

What type of porn does he like? The art-house, sweet, romantic type, or filthy, dirty, ruthless fucking? Homemade porn from couples, or hardcore BDSM and punishments with chains and whips in concrete basements?

I watch his pace speed up, his thighs clenching and hips rising, and I can tell he's getting close when his breath hitches, eyes shut, and muscles tense. He looks fucking glorious, and the sounds that erupt from his mouth are sinful—husky growls and filthy words. This is the type of man they should have in porn.

Ropes of cum spurt all over his abdomen and chest as he comes with my name on his lips. He lies back, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath and bathes in the ecstasy of his orgasm.

I can't take my gaze off of him, but I snap out of my daze when I realize he's going to open his eyes soon and catch me watching him now that he's not chasing his climax.

I reluctantly, yet quietly, close the door and tiptoe to my room, hoping that he didn't see me. Though maybe if he did, things could've gone differently.

Once I'm tucked in bed, I can't help but touch myself and get myself off as well. But I don't need porn. All I need is the memory of his large hand stroking his thick cock. Imagining how it would feel inside me, thrusting and stretching me. How he would taste on my tongue. His dirty words and my name on his lips.

And how one day soon, it won't just be a dream, or a fantasy, or watching a private moment. It will be a reality, and it will be the most euphoric fucking feeling in this world.

...

I take back what I said earlier. I can't be patient anymore.

Especially after what I'd witnessed last night. I couldn't pass by Edward without imagining him stroking his huge cock. His rock-hard abs contracting and his gorgeous face contorting with pleasure. My name coming out of his lips like a prayer as he came.

But I want to be the one making him feel that way, pushing him to the brink with my mouth. My hands. My pussy. Every part of me.

He's been driving me crazy the past few days I've stayed with him. Watching him be a handyman and do work around the house. Cutting the grass and doing yardwork, shirtless and sweaty—his hard, cut muscles glistening in the sunlight. Chopping wood in the back, making filthy noises and grunts with each swing.

Between those visions and sounds alone, they were enough material to get me off at night with my fingers. The tension between us is so thick you can cut it with a knife. And now that I know he fantasizes about me too… it's even worse. All those teasing touches and looks he gives me when he doesn't think I'm looking mean more now.

I needed more though. And I was tired, sitting here in this house all alone with him and acting as if he didn't make me wet just at the sight of him. As if he didn't drive me insane with need. That every moment without him intimately was painful.

Time to step up my game. I'm done playing the role of the good little stepdaughter.

All week, I've been making subtle hints and teases toward Edward. Either he's oblivious as hell or he's ignoring my advances because he doesn't even flinch. When I wear low-cut shirts and lean forward in front of him, he doesn't glance once. When I wear shorts so short my ass cheeks peek under the material as I bend over and peek over my shoulder, he's distracted by something far less entertaining.

Though there are signs that he does notcied me, like how he stiffens when I caress his firm bicep or when I slide my tight body against his as I pass by. I don't miss the tick in his jaw or the veins that protrude from his clenched fists as I tease him. The darkness and intensity in his eyes when he thinks I'm not looking. He's not as unaffected by my charms as he'd like me to believe. And I know it's not just in my head.

He wants me. He said my name as he jacked off and watched porn. But he would never make a move or admit it out loud because he's too good of a man and has a guilty conscience.

I'm his wife's—more like, soon-to-be ex-wife's—daughter. He watched me grow up through my awkward teenage years. But I'm a woman now, and I don't care if our relationship is taboo.

I decide to up my game as I lie in the backyard on the striped lounger by our inground pool, in the tiniest bathing suit I own. The thin emerald green thong clings to my pussy and barely covers much. The back of the bikini top is untied, exposing my bare back as I lie on my stomach to "avoid getting tan lines." The color of the bathing suit reminded me of Edward's sparkling eyes and complimented my tan skin so I knew I had to get it.

It's scorching outside, the sun beaming down on me. I'm eager to get in the water to cool off, but I know Edward will come out here any minute now. It's as if he read my mind as I hear the sound of the back door sliding open.

I can't help the smirk that forms on my lips. I hear his stuttered breath and deep inhale as his steps falter along the cement.

My head is tilted to the side, my cheek pressed against the lounger as I keep my eyes closed but call out to him, "Hey, Edward. Do you mind grabbing the sunscreen next to me and doing my back? I can't reach it, and it's always the first place that burns."

He clears his throat. "Uhm… Bella. I don't think that's—" His words cut off, obviously not knowing what to say.

My eyes open and meet his as he shifts awkwardly, unsuccessfully trying to avoid glancing at my chest as I turn slightly toward him, covering my breasts with my hands. The sides spill out though due to their size.

"Please, Daddy?" I ask softly and stare up at him with my doe eyes. His eyes widen and his mouth parts in shock at the nickname I've never used for him before. I can see the struggle in him and that he wants to say something, but he chooses to ignore it and pretend I meant it innocently.

I didn't.

I would kill to know what's running through his mind.

I see him strengthen his resolve, and he walks slowly but surely over to me, trying to look everywhere except for my body. He drags the closest chair over to me, sits down, and grabs the sunscreen.

I relax back down and close my eyes again, anticipating his touch. I wait a moment, and when I still don't feel his hands against me, I'm about to look toward him but in the next moment, a soft gasp leaves my throat as his soft but worn with work hands and cold sunscreen rub against my back. It feels so good, the way he's caressing and rubbing into me with skilled hands.

He freezes at the noise I make before gliding against me again, lathering in the lotion. His hands slide down, right above the top of my thong, briefly sliding beneath the string and touching the crease of my ass so quickly, I may have imagined it.

My skin breaks out in goosebumps at his touch, and there's no way he can't see it. I melt and curve into him, needing his fingers back there.

When he works back up my spine, toward the side of me, I shift so my breast rubs against his hand. I hear his hitched breath and feel him slide his hand farther down, closer to my nipple before he jumps with a start.

"O-okay." He gulps loudly. "I think you're all good." He gets up so fast the chair practically topples over. At this moment, you would never think he was the mature, forty-two-year-old adult with the way he was stumbling like a teenager.

It gives me a rush of adrenaline to know I have this effect on him.

Before he can bolt into the house like I know he's ready to, I turn back, my eyes seductive, my voice low. "Thank you. Wanna come for a swim, Da—"

He cuts me off before I can call him that again. "I-I can't. I have things… I-I need to do."

Just as I'm ready to get up and get in the pool without my bikini top on, about to shock him and give him a real show, his strained voice finally speaks with clarity. "And Isabella, put your shirt back on. You don't need to be giving anyone a show," he demands with finality, his eyes hard, a frown on his face before sliding the door closed rougher than necessary. He only calls me by my real name when he's frustrated with me.

I guess me about to flash him my tits was enough to snap him out of his fumbling awkwardness and expose the assertiveness in him. He's stretched like a rubber band, ready to snap.

As much as I'm hurt and upset that he rejected me and shut me down again, I'd be lying if I said the domineering tone of his last words didn't soak my barely-there thong. And I know I wasn't imagining the hint of jealousy in his tone and blaze in his eyes, not wanting any of the lurking neighbors to see me from their windows.

Although Edward's more than a game to me, the challenge makes it more fun. And will be all that more rewarding when he does snap because I can tell when he does, an animal will be unleashed, and I can't fucking wait to be on the receiving end of it.

...

I know I'm fucking insane with what I'm about to do, but I never claimed to be normal. And I know Edward feels this too. If I have to break down his moral compass a tad, I will.

I wake up in the middle of the night with a displeasured groan, an ache between my thighs, and watery eyes. My dream was incredible and felt so real until the dread of reality washed over me as consciousness seeped in.

I tried going back to sleep, but I couldn't stop twisting and turning, trying to ease the discomfort in my core. Sure, I could have gotten myself off, but I was tired of that. I wanted the real thing.

In that moment of desperate and carnal urge, I made up my mind.

It was most likely reckless, stupid, and would either, destroy everything or give me everything I've always wanted.

I didn't care anymore. I was going to take what I wanted.

Before I could think too much about it and chicken out, my body began to move. Next thing I know, I quietly walk over to Edward's bedroom and give the doorknob a jostle to see if it's unlocked. It is. Slowly, I turn the knob with my sweaty hand and push open the door, stepping into the room.

Although the room is silent, I can hear the loud sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. It's dark inside, but the glimmer of moonlight creeping in through the curtains gives me enough light to make out his figure on the bed.

As I walk closer to him, I can see he's lying on his back, shirtless, his hard pecs and chest rising and falling softly with his deep, sleepy breaths. The comforter is bunched around his waist, exposing the V of his defined hips.

Fuck. From the looks of it, there's no way he's wearing anything underneath. The realization that he sleeps completely naked stirs the arousal within me and dampens my panties even more. His face is relaxed and calm and so fucking gorgeous as he sleeps.

Once I reach the side of his bed, I watch him, making sure he doesn't wake up as I slowly lower the blanket. I can't help the gasp that escapes my throat, and I don't pay attention to if it woke him up because I'm glued to the sight of his breathtaking cock. Even though I've seen it already from a distance, it doesn't compare to how it looks so close to me right now. Even more captivating and intimidating at the same time.

It draws me in, putting me under a spell, and I can't resist this urge to taste him. I climb onto the unoccupied side of his bed and kneel next to him. Lowering my head, I pepper kisses along his muscular thighs. I can't hold back the moan that escapes from me 'cause of the taste of his skin.

My hands replace my mouth, caressing his thighs as I lightly nip the sculpted V of his hips. His cock is so much larger this close to my face. I steel in a breath, my hands shaking with anticipation as I lightly flick my tongue against the head of his cock. His taste is even better than I could've imagined.

Hungry for more, I slide my tongue up his length, and it twitches against me, before sucking the tip between my lips. I squeeze his thighs as I try to see how deep I can take him. I don't stop until the head hits the back of my throat. Pausing, I adjust myself and get used to the large size of him as I engulf most of his full erection. I've never been with someone this big before.

He's still asleep, but I can feel his muscles move lightly at the pleasure I'm giving him, and the sounds of his husky sleepy whimpers make me work harder.

Taking a deep breath before swallowing him deeper this time, adjusting to his size, his cock thickening in my throat. Tears fall down my cheeks at his wanted invasion. I grip the base of him as I swallow most of his length and set a comfortable rhythm as I bob my head up and down.

I feel his thighs stir slightly beneath me as he slowly awakens. His hums turn into groans as I please him with my mouth.

And then he completely freezes, his body going tight as he tries to sit up. "Bella, fuckkk. What are y-you…uhhh—doing?" He groans, his voice thick and groggy with sleep.

I don't shy away now that he's conscious. His cock in my mouth gives me the confidence I need. "Tasting you," I reply right before I flick my tongue out against his tip.

"You need to stop." He throws his head back and clenches his eyes tight, fighting back a moan. "This is wrong."

"Well, your cock says otherwise," I tease. "Plus, you're not with my mom anymore."

I don't wait for his response, sucking him back down. He can't help it and gets lost in the sensation of my hot wet mouth.

I pull him out with a pop. "Do you know how long I've wanted you?" I fight hard to keep it back but can't hide the vulnerability in my tone. "For the past few years, all I've thought and dreamt about was you. Any boy or man I was with, it was your cock I fantasized about."

I can see him slowly giving into my touch with every word. His body relaxes, fists clenching and unclenching around his thighs, his throat bobbing with shallow breaths.

I keep stroking him as I speak. "I never thought I could have you. But then when you and Mom separated, I couldn't pretend anymore. I needed you. That's why I came to stay with you instead of her."

It's fucking weird talking about my mom as I jack off her soon-to-be ex-husband, but he needs to know this.

I stare up at him with doe eyes, and my next words are all he needs to let go. "I want you to come in my mouth, Daddy. I've been waiting to taste you for too long." I lean down and swirl my tongue around the head of his dick.

At that moment, I see a side of Edward I've never witnessed before. It's like his resolve snaps in an instant, and this other being takes over. This wild, primal, animalistic man who doesn't think, just feels and takes what he needs.

His eyes darken in the moonlight, and a dirty, almost cruel smirk shifts into place. His palm grabs the back of my head roughly, forcing himself farther down my throat until I gag around him. He eases up a bit and then guides my head, helping me with my pace.

His length is covered in my saliva as it slides in and out of my mouth. I moan around him, my sounds spurring him to pump his hips into me slightly harder as he starts talking.

"You fucking dirty little girl. This is what you wanted, isn't it? For your daddy to come down your throat." He grunts ruthlessly with each thrust. "You've been such a fucking tease since I picked you up." His breaths and words turn choppy the closer he is to his release.

Holy shit. I never expected proper, caring Edward who raised me as a teen to have such a filthy mouth and be so domineering and kinky in bed.

With a deep groan, he erupts in my mouth, coating the back of my throat with his cum. "Such a good fucking girl," he praises.

After swallowing him down, but before I can catch my breath, he aggressively grabs me by my hips and pulls me toward his face. I squeal in surprise and hold onto the headboard for support.

"Get the fuck up here," Edward growls. "Sit on my face. I want you to ride my mouth, baby."

Baby. That word makes my heart flutter despite our dirty actions. Just how I like it, the best of both worlds. Raw, desperate fucking with soft neediness.

I kneel on either side of his face as I hover over his mouth. I've never ridden someone's face before. He pushes the lace nightgown I'm wearing up, groaning at the sight of seeing me pantyless.

Impatiently, he pushes me down by my hips, forcing my pussy to meet his lips. I gasp at the sensation of his wet, hot tongue firmly sliding along my folds. He teases them open with the length of his tongue, moaning at my taste.

The contrast of his rough scruff rubbing against my inner thighs and the softness of his tongue is a feeling I could've never imagined.

His tongue glides up and down my slit before taking my clit in his mouth and sucking…hard. He switches between fast flicks and hard sucks. Trailing down to my entrance, his tongue slides inside my core, and he fucks me with it.

He's messy, hungry, loud, and driving me fucking insane. Eating and savoring me like I'm the best thing he's ever tasted and can't get enough.

Holy fuck, does he know how to eat pussy. I guess that comes with age and lots of experience. I squirm against his face and hiss as he scrapes his teeth against my swollen clit.

He pulls away for a moment, and I groan at the loss of his mouth.

"I should pull you over my lap and spank your pretty little ass raw for being such a tease." He slaps my ass a few times, switching sides, getting rougher with each spank as the sounds ring out in the room. I can feel my flesh heat and redden, and I cry out with each one, bucking into his face to get away from the delicious painful pleasure.

"I should fuck it too. Would that teach you a lesson?" He grips an asscheek in each hand, squeezing, soothing and massaging, helping me ride his face.

I'm at a loss for words and cry out at his dirty mouth, the thought of him fucking me there, his rough spanks, and tongue that should be illegal. My legs shake as he goes back to devour me, even more intensely this time.

I grind against and fuck his face the closer he brings me to the brink of my orgasm. When I come, he laps up every drop of me, burying his tongue inside, moaning as he does.

Edward helps me off of him and pulls my back into his chest, curling into me from behind. Throwing the blanket over us, he wraps his arms around me. "Such a bad naughty girl, seducing her stepfather," he murmurs sleepily against my ear.

I just hum in agreement and sink farther back into him. Nothing can top this moment of his warmth and body cocooning mine, his dick resting against my ass, feeling his heartbeat against my back, his arms keeping me safe. Not even what happened minutes prior can compare—although that was earth-shattering on its own and more than I could've dreamed for.

My chest warms at how he can be so soft and cuddly after being so depraved. We fall asleep blissfully, his face buried in my neck.

Finally, my dreams have become reality.

...

The next morning, I stir awake with a relaxed smile on my face, feeling all warm. I have never felt more elated or satisfied.

But as I stretch my arms, yawning, and my eyes flutter open, a frown mars my face when I turn to find Edward but instead am greeted to his cold and empty side of the bed. I try not to think too much of it, knowing he's usually an early riser.

I lazily head to the bathroom, take a shower, and put on a cute little dress just for him once I'm done.

I can't help but feel giddy, and there's a permanent smile on my face from the afterglow of the orgasm I had last night. From finally having the man I've wanted for the past few years when I thought I'd never have the chance.

I practically prance down the stairs toward the kitchen where I see Edward sitting at the table, both hands grasping his coffee mug tightly as he stares down at it with a glum expression. Dark circles shadow his eyes, and it seems like he hasn't had much sleep.

Before I can think much of it, other than maybe he's just tired or cranky or not a morning person, I slide into his lap, having ideas of how to cheer him up.

He's so lost in thought, I catch him off guard, and he startles as I straddle him. The same electricity from last night runs through my veins as his large hands slide around my waist. But that spark immediately turns to disappointment as he pushes me off of him.

He sighs, rubbing his eyes. "Bella, this is wrong."

That catches me by surprise, and I fight back the hurt. This was not the reaction I was expecting after sharing such an intimate moment with him the night before and how into it he was. How into me he was.

I keep my voice steady. "Why? You and mom are getting divorced soon, and it's not like you're still with her… right?"

"That's not the point. You've been my stepdaughter for years." His tone is strained, the veins in his neck pulsing beneath the skin. "This can't happen again."

I try not to let his words bother me. He just needs a bit of convincing like last night. Good thing I didn't wear panties beneath my dress.

I ignore his words and step toward the kitchen island, bending over to grab a tea kettle from the bottom cupboard. As I lean forward, my ass in the air, my short dress lifts, and from the feel of the cool air against me, exposes a decent amount of my cheeks and a peek of my pussy to him.

I hear a pained groan followed by a fist slamming on the table behind me which puts a wicked smile on my face.

In less than a minute, I feel a hard, clothed bulge press into my bare skin from behind, and strong hands grip my hips almost painfully, holding me in place. I let out a gasp of surprise and satisfaction.

"Why do you keep on pushing me?" Edward practically growls through clenched teeth.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say innocently.

I'm still bent over, holding onto the cupboard door so I don't fall into it with how hard he's pressing against me. I must be leaving a spot on his pants with how wet I am.

It turns me on when he's angry. "Don't fucking play with me," he emphasizes, thrusting against me as I jolt forward.

I drop the act and grind against him as he groans. "I know you feel this too. How much you want me. Stop fighting it."

His fingertips must be leaving marks on my hips from how hard they're digging in. I gasp in shock from the loud sound echoing in the room and the sting from his hand sharply slapping against my ass.

"You're such a fucking bad girl."

I whimper and push back for more.

In an instant, before I can process it, he pulls my body up so his firm, hard chest is against my back. My head pulls back roughly with a hand wrapped around my throat.

His soft plump lips hover over my ear, and I feel his warm breath as he says in a low, gravelly tone, "You drive me fucking insane."

Arousal slides down my inner thighs at his words and dominating grip on my throat. He applies just enough pressure to make my head dizzy with lust, but I can still breathe fine. The way he handles me is like I'm his personal toy.

Edward slides a fingertip up the back of my thigh, pushing my dress up. My skin breaks out in goosebumps as I shiver in his hold. Moving it higher to my inner thighs until it reaches the crease of my ass cheek, he gives it a hard squeeze, and I can't keep in the keen that escapes my lips, throwing my head back further into him.

"You want to feel how wet your little girl is for you?" I whisper against his tight hold.

He responds by finally tracing a finger along my outer lips, teasingly, but I know he can still feel the slickness. After sliding back and forth a few times, he slips between my slit, dragging the arousal up to my clit, swirling and tugging it.

My hips grind against his hand in delicious torment. He's so skilled with every part of himself. I melt in his arms, one hand still wrapped around my neck and the other rubbing me.

My loud cries of pleasure surround us, which then turns to a displeased whine when he pulls away sharply.

"Fuck," Edward groans painfully. "What the fuck am I doing?" he whispers more to himself than me.

"Aw, that's not fair, Daddy."

"Don't call me that." He clenches his jaw, turning away from me.

I swear this man has a malfunctioning switch. Wanting me and worshiping my body one moment, and distant and cold the next. It's seriously giving me whiplash.

"Why not, aren't you my daddy?" I bite my lip and stare up at him with my large doe eyes. "You had no problem calling yourself that while I sucked your cock last night," I point out crudely with an edge to my tone, frustrated with him.

Edward flinches at my words. He calms down a bit before speaking so low I can barely hear him. "Bella, last night was a mistake." I don't know if I imagine it, but I swear I hear a hint of sadness in his voice.

I swallow down the fear building in my stomach and try to keep my voice calm and expression neutral. "What are you talking about? No, it wasn't. You wanted me as well."

I can see the internal battle in his eyes. "I was half asleep and horny. I know that's no excuse. But I acted based on lust and in the heat of the moment. I didn't think of the consequences." He sighs and stares at me. "We can't do this."

It feels like he stabbed me in the chest with his words. I fight back the tears welling in my eyes, not wanting to show him the effect he has on me.

After giving me the most amazing night of my life, he stomps all over my heart the next day, crushing any hope I had of us together.

What a stupid girl I am.

He's making it seem like this was just about getting off. Just something mindless to use for pleasure. Full of regret. As if no emotions were involved. Like there is no deeper connection between us.

But I know that's a lie. He's just scared to admit the truth.

I can't hold back the anger and tears any longer. "Fuck you, Edward! Don't feed me that bullshit." I storm toward him and jab my finger into his chest. "You knew exactly what you were doing. You're a grown man. Just because you can't handle the consequences of your actions or because you're scared of your attraction to me, don't play dumb." My voice rises with each sentence.

He stands there frozen, taken aback, but doesn't say a word.

"Stop fucking pretending like I forced everything and you don't feel this either." I grab his hand, placing it against my chest, my heartbeat pounding against his palm. He can't keep in his gasp, and he doesn't pull away so I know he feels it. "Like you don't masturbate and come while imagining me and with my name on your lips. I know you wanted last night as badly as I did. We've always had a connection and now we can finally act on it."

Edward's eyes widen at the revelation he didn't know I knew about.

His eyes cast downward, avoiding mine. His next words are broken and choked and completely break me. "I-I can't, Bella." He takes a stuttering breath. "You're my stepdaughter, and that's all you'll ever be." That's all he says after I pour my heart out.

I pull away as if he shocked me—and not in the same way he had before. Not in a good way.

I run up the stairs to my room, not looking back once. Not wanting him to see me fall apart and take more of me than he already has.

Once I'm inside, I slam the door shut loudly behind me and begin to pack a bag, needing to get out of here. I can't be in the same house as him right now.

I call my best friend from high school, Tanya. She still lives close by and I ask if I can stay with her for a few days to figure things out. To clear my mind and decide where I'm going to spend the rest of my summer before heading back to school. Of course, she is understanding and supportive and tells me I can stay as long as I need.

After I hastily grab the things I need and hope I'm not forgetting anything important, I head back down the stairs once Tanya tells me she's waiting outside for me in her car.

Edward's perched on the couch with a glass of amber-colored liquid in his hands. His eyes are red-rimmed, and they narrow in on the duffel bag in my hands.

"Bella, where are you going?" he asks in a flat voice.

I ignore him and avoid his gaze as I shuffle quickly to the door, having no strength to fight with him anymore. It hurts too much to be around him.

I hear his hard footsteps follow behind me as I walk faster. "Bella, come back here," he demands in a stern tone.

"Leave me the fuck alone, Edward." Even though my words are hard, my voice is weak.

I slam the front door closed behind me and race over to the passenger side of Tanya's sleek, black car at the side of the road.

Immediately as I enter, I turn to her and say desperately, "Please, get me out of here." I'm unable to hold back the tears any longer as they slide down my cheeks.

With no questions asked, Tanya gives me a soft smile and puts the gear into drive, slamming on the accelerator. That's why she's my best friend because she'll always be there for me in times of need and doesn't judge. Acts first, asks questions later. And I'd do the same for her.

As much as I regret it, I can't help but look back toward the porch. Edward stands there, looking disheveled and lost, staring at me through the window of the car as Tanya speeds down the road.

Looking as broken as I am.

...

Over the next few days of staying with Tanya, I try to put things into perspective and not be an impulsive, young broken-hearted girl. Emphasize on the try.

I know logically, it may not be easy for Edward and me to be together, and just because we fucked doesn't mean I should expect him to confess his love for me. But, I guess all these years, my feelings have run a lot deeper than I want to accept, and thinking I finally had a chance created hope within me.

Maybe he's trying to be realistic according to societal expectations, but I've never cared about that. Maybe I should be more concerned that it might ruin my relationship with Renee and devastate her.

And although a part of me does feel guilt, my relationship with Renee has been almost non-existent for a while now. Things were tense even before my feelings for Edward developed. He was the force that kept Renee and me in each other's lives. Let's just say, she hasn't been the most supportive or caring mother figure—that's actually an understatement. She never wanted children in the first place.

Plus, I may be young, but what I wanted with Edward wasn't some superficial taboo thrill until I got bored and found something new and exciting. It wasn't because I resented my mom and wanted to hurt her or ruin her relationship. I never would've made a move on him if they were still together, regardless of how I feel about Renee. And besides she's happy with Phil now.

Edward was the person I wanted a life, a future with. He was it for me. Even though we weren't in a romantic relationship, I had lived with him for six years and knew every part of him. Knew more of him and connected better than any real relationship I've ever been in.

I'd always felt like our souls were connected in some way; the timing and age gap were just wrong. But I believed he had come into my life for a reason.

After the past few days, I'm not sure if I was ever right, though. Maybe it was one-sided the entire time. I can't help but doubt myself and think that I really was a naive, dumb, infatuated girl with an unrealistic fantasy.

He might still just view me as a kid. Though if he did, I doubt he would have given into me like he did.

Whatever. If he doesn't want me, I can't change that, and I'm not gonna beg any longer. I've wasted enough time obsessing over him. It hurts and will take me a long time to get over it—if I ever do—and it's heartbreaking to lose him completely from my life. But at least I won't need to see him anymore, and hopefully, time will heal that.

If Edward doesn't want me, I won't force it or push it. That's not right. I let my love and desire for him get out of hand and may have made wrong decisions and not respected his boundaries.

I was too desperate for him—of the idea of us. I may be young and dumb, but I've learned my lesson. I'll leave him alone and get out of his life if that's what he wants. Because that's how much I still care about him.

As much as I try to convince myself though, I can't ignore the ache in my heart that crawls up to my lungs, making it hard to breathe.

I decide to stay with Charlie for the remainder of the summer. I know he'd be happy to spend time with me, and he always makes things better.

In my hasty retreat of escaping Edward's home, I didn't grab all of my stuff. I've been avoiding him ever since that day. The first few days after I left, I had a few missed phone calls, voice messages, and texts from him, but I didn't return them. Ranging from sad, to angry, to parental. But not once did he say he wanted me back.

He hasn't contacted me since.

It hurts like a bitch, but if I need to get over him, still being in contact will be the worst because I never will be able to that way.

The day I leave Tanya's for Charlie's, I need to stop by Edward's to get the last of my belongings. I make sure to stop by at the time he usually goes for his runs.

But it's just my luck that when I arrive at the house, the devil himself sits on the bench on the porch, looking disheveled and worse for wear. Smoke billows around his features as a lit cigarette hangs from his lips. I'm taken aback at the sight. He quit smoking years ago, and I've only seen him sneak one a few times in rare moments of high stress.

I would turn around and leave, but I took a cab here and didn't waste money to leave empty-handed. Plus he already saw me anyway. I steel up the courage, put on my big girl panties, take a deep breath, and convince myself to get this over with.

The quicker I do it, the less of a sting—like a bandage. At least I hope so.

Although I lived here for years, it doesn't feel like home anymore as I walk up the front steps. This house was full of all the memories that made me fall for Edward and full of hope—and one I'll never see again.

I avoid his gaze that burns through me and sets my skin on fire. That connection that will never diminish regardless of how he hurt me. The same way I feel his presence in a room before even seeing him.

I try to walk past him, straight to the front door, hoping he won't say anything to me, and I can get my things and leave quickly.

But he doesn't let that happen.

Edward sounds and looks drained as he says in a tired voice, "Bella can we talk?"

I hide the emotion in my voice. "You said your piece last time. I know what you think of me and how you feel. There's nothing to say." I take a deep breath. "Look, I just came here to grab the rest of my things and I'll be gone. You don't have to worry about seeing me again," I say numbly. I add, "And you don't have to worry about me saying anything to Renee. I won't."

I don't give him a chance to respond when I open the door, walk inside and close it behind me.

Seconds later, the sound of the door opening and slamming shut behind me rings out. Before I take another step, I feel a firm yet gentle grasp on my wrist, halting my step.

"No, you don't get to leave. You don't get to run away from your problems. You want to be treated as an adult, then act like one," he fumes with fury.

I roughly pull out of his grip, turning around to glare at him. "Excuse me?" I ask incredulously. "You're one to talk. Coming from such an old man, you're the one that pushed me away and didn't own up to your actions. You give me such whiplash. One second you want me, then you don't. What the fuck do you want?" I explode, not able to keep in the sadness and anger I feel. How crazy and unhinged he makes me.

Shit. This is exactly why I was avoiding him.

He steps close until we're practically nose to nose. "You weren't complaining about me being an old man when you were coming for me."

Of course, that's all he would take from that. I roll my eyes and head towards the stairs, but this time he stops me again, gentler this time. "Fuck. Little Swan, wait," he pleads quietly.

I hate that his nickname for me makes me freeze, obeying his command and makes my knees weak.

"Please, just hear me out. I know I fucked up. I'm sorry."

I struggle between giving in and standing my ground. But the desperation in his beautiful eyes, the need in his voice, the pull he has on me, and the chemistry we have makes me cave.

"Fine. But I'm still leaving after," I state firmly.

There's a pain in his expression, but I let him lead me to the couch in the living room by my hand. I create some space as we both sit on the same couch.

"Bella, I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it. It's just so wrong. I've seen you grow up, I've been married to your mom for years."

"You'll never really want me. I'm just a kid to you—your stepdaughter," I say with malice. "If all you want to do is remind me that you don't want me or can't be with me, save your words. I get it Edward, but it just hurts too much. I can't keep you in my life as a stepfather figure anymore," I express weakly, so exhausted from this back and forth.

"Just listen to me. I was going to add that I'm tired of fighting it or denying the connection we have. I was just so fucking scared. I've never wanted someone so bad, and I thought it was wrong and that I could never act on it."

Edward shuffles to sit closer to me. He caresses my cheek with his palm, then slides his thumb along my bottom lip, entrancing me with his powerful stare. "So when you made a move and I realized you felt the same, it freaked me out. I didn't know how to act, nervous to confirm this thing between us and act on my desires. Especially when it was stronger than I could've imagined."

The confirmation that it's not in my imagination and he feels this weird energy between us makes tears pool in my eyes, no matter how hard I fight to keep them back.

"I've never been a selfish man," he whispers so lightly against my lips. "But I don't care anymore if it means I can have you." He kisses me softly and sweetly. "I want to be with you and see where this takes us. I may be losing you as a stepdaughter, but I'm gaining something better."

My body erupts with electricity and flames as my heart races wildly with his confession.

Maybe I give in to him too easily, but after hearing his confession, I can't put up the front that I don't want him anymore when he's all I've ever wanted. I want to trust him and believe his words.

"I'm an adult now and know what I want… what I've wanted for years. You've always been more than just a forbidden fantasy to me, Edward." I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. "Please make love to me now. Or fuck me, whichever you choose," I plead, kissing him hungrily.

Edward picks me up from the couch as I wrap my legs around his waist. Our lips stay glued to each other as we pour our devotion out with our kisses. He aimlessly walks up the stairs, to his bedroom, slamming it closed behind him with his foot once we're inside.

Without parting our lips, he lays us down on his bed, immediately hovering over me as his tongue continues to battle with mine.

He impatiently rips my clothes off like a madman, sucking and biting, leaving marks along my neck and chest until I'm only in my bra and panties. Pulling back, he takes me in, eyes wandering over every piece of exposed skin.

It's different than the last time we were together, since it was dark, only the moonlight illuminating us. Now It's broad daylight and I'd be insecure by the way the sunlight exposes my bare skin if it weren't for the way he's staring at me with his smoldering eyes—like I'm the most captivating, a breath of fresh air he needs.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Edward praises. He strips my bra off in a swift movement and takes my nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking. Taking turns between both sides, switching between sweet, soft sucks, and hard rough bites. I love how he switches up between sweetness and roughness.

He trails kisses down my stomach and achingly slowly pulls my panties down. His tongue leads over my hipbone, the crease between my thighs until he spreads me open, and stares for a moment, taking me in. I jolt in surprise when he licks up my slit, lathing my pussy with his tongue in strong strokes.

"Little Swan, you're soaked for me," he coos. Using his nickname for me in such an erotic moment while he's licking my pussy makes me drip even more. I keen and rise my hips, chasing his mouth for more.

He spends some time, making me wetter, licking and sucking, sliding his tongue in and out of me before trailing up to suck and nip on my clit. It doesn't take me long before I'm trembling, screaming out and coming on his tongue.

I will never get used to how skilled he is with his mouth.

He's still fully clothed, but sits up, my wetness on his lips as he rips off his clothing in a hurry. "Fuck, I need to be inside you," Edward demands.

Once he's stripped bare, exposing every mouthwatering inch of his sculpted, smooth, hard skin, he lays on top of me, holding himself up with his arms braced on either side of my head. I wrap my legs around his waist.

I have always found missionary quite boring, but with him, this position feels so intimate and heats my skin. I feel caged, surrounded by every inch of him, and can't escape. I feel protected, safe, loved. Every part of his warm, hard body against mine. The way his eyes bore into mine, speaking louder than any words he can say.

Without a word and with one hand on his cock, he guides his thickness to my pussy, stroking it between my drenched lips. I whimper and rise my hips for more as he teases me, sliding it from my clit to my entrance. He has a taunting smirk on his face as he slightly pushes in excruciatingly slowly.

His kinky side makes an appearance. "This is what you fucking wanted so bad, isn't it, my dirty little girl?" He teases arrogantly with a cocky smirk.

I would slap it off of him if I wasn't wound so tight and so desperate for this. I dig my nails into his shoulders, arching my back and crying out at his words and the need to feel him inside.

"P-please, stop teasing me. I need it so fucking bad!"

I gasp out in shock at the unexpected fullness as my inner muscles grip him tightly. He forces himself deep inside with one hard thrust.

"Holy fuck," he groans, eyes clenched shut. Pausing a minute to gain composure, he lets me adjust to him. He's in shock as much as I am to how good it feels.

He starts slow, grinding his hips into mine slowly but deep until I can feel every thick, slick inch of him. "Oh my god, it feels so good. So fucking full," I whimper.

He just responds with that panty-melting—or in this case—pussy throbbing smirk. He leans down, capturing my cry into his mouth.

"That's it. You're doing so well. Taking all of daddy's cock."

Fuck, the things it does to me when he calls himself that. When I call him that.

His hands dig into my hips and he picks up his speed, cock pounding in me slightly harder and faster. Placing his feet up on the bed to have a better hold to pump his hips into me more frantically.

I can't help but spurt out little cries, mumbles, and words like, "fuck," "yes," "oh my god", "Edward," and "Daddy."

I lose control over my mind from how incredible he's making me feel and just lose myself in the euphoria and sensations.

The closer we both get to our releases, he gyrates into me more frantically and aggressively. We become louder and his words get dirtier.

"Such a desperate little slut for my cock," he growls, fucking me savagely.

I can't help the moan that rips from my throat, not realizing how much I would enjoy being called that.

"Yes, I'm your little slut, daddy," I cry out.

His breaths turn desperate and his thrusts become erratic. I fight against pulling him further into me or pushing him away because the intensity is too much. I drag my fingers harshly down his back, scratching and marking him.

"Is it too much baby? Does it feel too good?"

I nod my head and whimper in response.

"Come all over my cock like a good girl," he commands.

"Yes daddy," I comply.

My orgasm rips through my body like a storm. I'm shaking and trembling and holding onto him for dear life from the hardest I've ever come. He follows right behind me.

None of my fantasies came even close to the reality of the pleasure he gave me.

Although I haven't been with many men in my lifetime, the myths about older, experienced men are true. None of the younger guys my age I've been with have the experience, stamina, or can pleasure me like he can. He knows all the spots, where to touch, where to lick, just the right spot to hit and rub his cock inside me.

Edward is a man who treats his girl like a queen in public, but a slut in the bedroom.

He collapses on top of me and covers my body with his. The length of him pressed against mine, most of his weight holding me against the bed—trapping me. Rolling to his side, he pulls me into his grip and holds me tightly. As if he never wants to let me go. "We'll figure it out, I promise," he reassures, both of us still panting. "As much as I shouldn't, I want you so much."

And that reassurance is all I need. I don't know what the future holds, and I'm sure it won't be easy for us to be together. But as long as we fight for it and don't give up on one another we'll survive. And the same way I knew we were bonded in some way, I know we'll make it.

I'll deal with my mom when the time comes. I've wanted Edward so bad for years and now that I can finally have him, I won't lose the chance regardless of the risks.