Filed to story: Help! I’m Falling for My Dad’s Best Friend Novel Free
Hearing my whimper, his touch gentles immediately. “Oh, baby. Did I spank you too hard?” Mr. Dominant is gone and is replaced by the sweet Mr. Collins I know. Too bad. I kinda like the wicked, evil side of him.
I close my eyes, twitch beneath his soft touches and I flinch when I feel a tender kiss on my well-punished flesh. It soothes, yet arouses me.
I moan.
He trails more feather-light kisses over my stinging flesh and each time, a jolt of paralyzing pleasure shoots along my spine, my p**sy clenches and I cream again.
“Baby, do you realize the position you put me in?” He sounds so tormented and it shocks me. I’ve never heard him sounding so miserable before. “He’s my best friend. Every time I look at him, guilt gnaws at me. When I got shot, he carried me through five miles of desert. He saved my life and this is how I’m repaying him. I skulk behind his back and make love to his daughter. I should just stab him in the heart.”
It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking about my father. Now it is me overtaken by guilt. I’m the one who seduced him, who waited until he was divorced and lured him into my bed.
I had been determined to have him before starting college… but I hadn’t expected it to turn into more. Now that I have him, I don’t want to let him go. I think I’d go crazy without him in my life.
“I love you,” I blurt it without thinking. “Are you leaving me?”
He makes a hoarse, tortured noise in his throat. “Never, baby, never.”
I sniffle. “I’ll graduate in a few years and we can…” I leave the words hanging. They linger between us. What do I want to happen when I graduate? I’m only nineteen. It’s too early to think about marriage, but I know I want to be with him in the long run. Besides, he’s mentioned a quickie wedding in Vegas…
I roll and our gazes meet. He reaches for me, presses a hard kiss to my mouth and I savor it… slowly, hungrily, ravenously.
“Harper…” he breathes out.
“I’m sorry, Kri. I crashed the weekend because I wanted to spend time with you,” I confess. “I haven’t seen you in two months. You don’t know how hard it is-“
He silences my apology with another starving kiss and I close my eyes. Maybe he doesn’t need to hear it. Maybe he carries the burden harder than I. I don’t feel guilty about sneaking behind my parent’s back, or like I’m betraying my best friend. Whoever I invite to my bed is my own choice. Besides, Mr. Collins is a good man and my parents know him.
“Baby,” he whispers. “Believe me, I know.”
“Kri…” I crane my neck, search for his lips. He gives me what I want, slips his tongue deep into my mouth. He touches and strokes me, kneads the heated skin of my ass. Heat pools in my p**sy and I’m feeling ravenous yet again. I need more, need his cock in my cunt. I want him to f**k me and I writhe against him, the ties digging into my skin and chafing the delicate tissues.
Mr. Collins groans in sympathy and the knife flashes in his hand. I’m cut loose, legs and wrists free. I sigh in relief. I shift as if to rise, but Mr. Collins puts a hand on my stomach, pushes me back down to the forest floor.
“Stay still.” His rough hands stroke over the thin fabric of my shirt and his touch drifts down to trace the wet seam of my labia as if to test my readiness. I’m hindered by my jeans, but he can tell I’m beyond ready. My p**sy, wet from his spanking, clenches from his touch.
He slips a finger into my opening and I moan. Another and I cry out at his intrusion, the pads of his digits stroking my inner walls, oiling me with my own dripping juices.
Oh, man. Yes. That feels so good. “More,” I moan.
“Three?”
“Three.”
Mr. Collins slides another into my stretched opening and a quiver steals through me. I love the way he touches me, gentle, not too hard yet not too tame. Just perfect.
I moan louder.
He pushes even deeper until his knuckles are pressed against my opening. I mumble and sigh, wiggle and writhe against his invasion. My p**sy is slick with my cream and is doing its best to grip his fingers, hold him inside me.
Then, Mr. Collins curves his fingers, rubs my G-spot he’s come to know too well. I moan again, tension building inside me with every shift of his digits in my cunt.
I claw the ground, blanket barely protecting me from the pebbles and dirt.
It’s good and hot and bad and oh, so dirty. I’m near naked in the outdoors, p**sy displayed and my lover has his fingers buried inside my cunt.
“Mr. Collins…”
And he knows what I want.
“Dirty little Harper. Have you been punished enough? Should I let you come on my hand?”
I writhe, legs spread wide. I want to rise to my knees and bend over for him, give him greater access to my wetness. He presses deeper, stretches me even further and I gasp, push back and beg for more.
Illicit thrills dance along my spine like thunderous lightning. He pushes forward and retreats, quickening his intrusion with every thrust.
I want it, need to come on his hands while he holds me in his palm. His gentle demeanor warring with his rough treatment of my cunt.
“Mr. Collins… So bad. Your whore.”
“You are my whore, aren’t you? You don’t ever spread your legs for anyone else though, do you?” A sharp slap lands at the top of my p**sy and I tremble, silently beg for another. “Do you?”
I shake my head. No. Never. Wouldn’t hand this p**sy over to anyone else.
“Good girl. Greedy girl, aren’t you?”