Tyrant Daddy
Isabella Starling
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © Isabella Starling, 2021
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Cover design: Isabella Starling
Editing: John Hudspith
Contents
Don't Miss The Next Tyrant Dynasty Romance!
A word of warning
Author’s note
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Connect With Isabella!
What did you think?
I can't wait to hear what you thought!
Don't Miss The Next Tyrant Dynasty Romance!
1: Tyrant Twin
(Kade Miller and June)
2: Tyrant Stalker
(Nox Miller and Dove)
3: Tyrant Daddy - OUT NOW!
(Raphael and Willa Canterbury-Miller)
4: Tyrant Beast - coming 2022
(Theo Miller Wildfox and Mercy)
5: Tyrant Therapists - coming 2022
(Kenzie Miller Wildfox)
6: Tyrant Billionaire - coming 2022
(Maxim Miller Wildfox)
7: Tyrant Psycho - coming 2022
(Zane Canterbury-Miller)
8: Tyrant Bully - coming 2022
(Kellan Canterbury-Miller)
9: Tyrant Madman - coming 2022
(TBA)
If you want to be the first to hear about my updates, make sure to join my Facebook group! Members of Good Girls Love Bad Boys are the first to hear about my news.
A word of warning
Please refrain from spoiling this book for yourself or others.
Tyrant Daddy is a DARK romance novel that has a lot of disturbing, cruel, and twisted scenes that may upset the more sensitive reader. Please heed this warning.
For all questions or inquiries, you can email me directly at [email protected].
xo Isa
Author’s note
Welcome to the dark and ominous world of the Millers. I hope you enjoy Raphael and Willa’s story. If you do, I would absolutely love it if you post a review for it on Amazon. It helps me out so much!
You’re also welcome to subscribe to my newsletter and receive some free books when you join!
I hope you’re ready for the darkness that awaits you beyond this page…
Prologue
Raphael
Getting over Dove Canterbury is im-fucking-possible.
I compare every woman I go on a date with to the raven-haired vixen who stole my heart, and none of them live up to her. None are as beautiful, as caring, as deeply emotional as she is. These girls... they're shells. Empty. Beautiful, but empty. I can't feel anything for them. I refuse to fall for their charms. I find it almost disrespectful with how unoriginal it is. But Dove, Dove wasn't like that. She was fully herself, unabashed yet ashamed, innocent and yet so very broken. I'll never find that again, and deep down, I know it.
Tonight, I'm sitting at a bar, watching people come and go with an impassive expression. I've seen it all from this seat. The cougars, the barely legal girls, the bridesmaids, the bachelor parties, too. I get those guys. We all come here for one thing – to find a hole to fuck.
And there's a lot of beauty on display tonight. Pretty, sexy, voluptuous, thin, tall, petite, and all so motherfucking irresistible. I know if these women were reading my mind, they'd think I'm an asshole. Because I'm thinking of them as objects, not as people. And I know I could go home with any one of them tonight.
But I won’t because none of them are Dove Canterbury.
Because I never got my hands on Dove, I missed out on a big portion of my life. I never married. Never raised a family. I skipped out on the whole perfect life thing to make millions and fuck hundreds. Whether it was worth it or not, I still don't know.
Except there's no denying the truth. That my sick, twisted black heart wants ugly, dark, depraved things I shouldn't crave.
I don't want a child to call me Daddy.
No, in my mind, the word falls from the plump lips of a beautiful woman, one who entrusts me with her body, mind and soul. I'm her daddy, because she knows I'll take care of her pretty little mind, but also fuck her in every hole. It's something I never told Dove, ironically – the woman of my dreams doesn't even know about my sickest, most prevalent fantasy. But I already know it's not for her. She would've hated the thought. And yet I still want her.
With a groan, I toss back the remains of my tequila and set the glass down, motioning to the bartender to get me another. I'm alone tonight – I learned fast enough that taking a friend with me only meant a distraction. I'm not here to make friends. I'm here for pussy.
My eyes scan the crowd again. A group of exactly my type of women sits in a private booth a little way off. At least three of them are currently eyeing me. But I'm not going there, not yet. I need a couple more drinks to drown out the memory of Dove and get over the anger I feel at myself for my dirty little kink.
I can’t stop thinking about her. She's always on my mind. Always there, tugging at every heartstring, reminding me no other woman will ever live up to her. Dove. Fucking Dove. She ruined my life.
"Hello, handsome."
A slim arm snakes around my shoulders and a woman slips on the bar stool next to mine. Her eyes are calculating, and her lips have a cruel smirk to them. I take her in slowly, enjoying every inch of her body clad in a tight white dress, with her tits pushed up and tempting me. She's a brunette, with caramel-honeyed straight locks and her makeup done to perfection. I can smell her daddy issues from a mile away. After all, she came up to me like a lamb to the slaughter.
"Hello, to what do I owe this pleasure?" I raise my brows as the bartender slides my drink in front of me. "Weren't you just sitting over there with your friends?"
"Couldn't take my eyes off you, to be honest." Confidently, she calls over the waiter and orders some wine. I don't offer to pay. Let her play her game – she's the one who made the first move, after all. Once she has wine in her hand, she smiles again, long nails clinking against the glass. I imagine her lips shaping the word Daddy. I imagine her eyes rolling back as she comes. "And I noticed you were looking at me, too."
I wasn't looking at her, I was looking at all of them – it doesn't matter which one comes home with me tonight, as long as she's willing to be fucked. So, I stay silent, my eyes devouring her as she pretends her confidence isn't failing. I fucking love playing them like this. It makes me harder than anything else. That moment her face falls, her sweet brokenness, the moment she's just a desperate little gir
l again, looking for Daddy's approval.
"So, you're all by yourself tonight?" she asks next. She almost manages to disguise the tremor in her voice. Almost. Except I'm too fucking good at this game not to notice. I've been playing for a long time, after all.
"Hopefully not for too long." I take another sip and set down my glass, swirling around the clear liquid. "You looking for someone to take you home tonight?"
"Cool it," she laughs. "Shouldn't you ask my name first?"
"Probably," I smirk, making no other move to find out more about her. She crosses her arms and sips daintily at her wine. "Aren't your friends going to miss you?"
"I think you'll miss me more if I go back now," she purrs.
"Bold of you to assume."
"I like being bold," she smiles, some of her confidence returning. "So, are you going to make a move here?"
"No, not yet." I get up and button my suit jacket. "If you'll excuse me, I have to make a call."
Her eyes widen as I walk away, not looking back once. I know I've got her hooked now. I walk into the cold outside. My phone remains in my pocket. Instead, I pull out a cigar and carefully clip it. I light it and enjoy the smoke. This is what I need. To clear my head.
There's a line forming in front of the bar. This place is getting harder and harder to get in. But the taller the heel, the sexier the body, and the prettier the face, the better your chances are of walking inside. I can pass easily by the bodyguards – I invest here, and they know me well. But it also means I can ensure only the hottest women come in. Ripe for the picking – ripe for my fucking cock.
I enjoy my cigar, slowly making my way through it as my eyes comb through the people outside. Flashy cars pull up and the valet parks them for the rich guests. But there's something else – a commotion in the making. Furrowing my brows, I notice somebody arguing with the bouncer and switch my position so I can watch it all go down.
Two women – well, they're not women, they're girls – stand in front of the entrance, arguing loudly with the bouncer. I could approach them, end this here and now. But I don't want to be seen just yet. Instead, I drink in the two girls, who look much too young to be here.
One of them is petite, with dark hair and a porcelain complexion. The other is a little taller. Pale skin, freckles. Blonde hair that reaches her waist. She doesn't look anything like Dove and yet something about her reminds me of the woman that got away. My heart actually fucking aches looking at her. There's an innocence about the girl that's fucking painful.
The girls don't win their fight, and I don't stick around to watch the rest. Instead, I toss my cigar and head inside, quickly finding the brunette I abandoned at the bar. She's still there, and she picks herself up expectantly when I enter, her eyes going to mine.
I have a clear goal in mind now, and I motion for the woman to follow me to the bathroom. There's a private one here, and I drag her into the room decorated with marble and fresh, heady smelling roses.
We stumble inside, my fingers intertwined in her hair, tugging at her dress, trying to get her naked as fast as I fucking can.
In the end I give up and simply lift the bottom of her sinful little dress, ripping her thong off. She shrieks and giggles as I pull her against me. Her hands find the sink and she moans. I realize I still don't know her name, not that I give a shit. All I care about is the tight little prize between her legs that are already parting for me.
"You like to be fucked hard?" I mutter in her ear. "You like that tight little snatch used, abused and broken?"
"Yes." Her words are breathless, her sighs growing heavier as I push my tip against her pussy. "Fuck, you're so big."
I smirk, testing her pussy. Dripping wet. Fucking perfect. "I know."
I push inside her unceremoniously, groaning as I adjust to the feeling of her pussy wrapped around my cock. This is what keeps me fucking young. Women half my age who should know better.
"Fuck me," she begs, and I give her what she so desperately wants. Driving my cock in and out of her hole, I feel my cock swelling, her cunt getting tighter and tighter as I continue my merciless assault. She's going to come – I know without the girl telling me, because I can fucking feel it. It's in the desperate tightness of her pussy, in the way she moans so fucking helplessly as my cock hardens even more.
I have every last vestige of control over her in my hands now. I pull out of her pussy, watching my cock dribble on the floor. My cum shoots out in thick ropes.
"Why?" she moans. "I wanted it in my pussy!"
"You don't deserve it," I grunt, zipping up my spent cock. Good girls work for my load, and she barely even tried. Maybe this will be a lesson to her. "You can lick it up though, if you'd like."
"Off the floor?" She somehow manages to blanche and blush at the same time, making me laugh out loud at her.
"I guess this will prove whether you're a whore or a princess," I tell her with a wink. "Thanks for letting me use your hole."
I push past her out of the bathroom, leaving her shivering and barely covered up as she leans against the marble sink. I don't need to watch the security camera footage to know she'll shamelessly drop to her knees and clean the floor the moment I leave. I saw the truth in her eyes before I left. She's a little slut. They all are, deep down.
"Wait!" I turn around to find her there, hurriedly pushing her torn panties inside her handbag. "Please, I... I want more."
"More? You just emptied my cock, didn't you?"
She shushes me – enough reason for me to backhand her, but I don't. Instead, she steps in front of me, cheeks brightly flushed as she leans in to say, "Please, I want more. Keep me around. I'll be useful."
"I'll make you prove that," I mutter, eyeing her again. Why the fuck would I say no to this? She's sexy, gorgeous and wants more of my cock. Only a fool would turn her down. "Fine, you can stay – for now."
Her eyes light up but I stop her with my hand held up.
"One last thing."
"What's that?" She dares me to test her with her eyes.
"I want you to call me Daddy."
Chapter 1
Willa
"Willa, you have to take a left turn here!"
"Oh, shit!" I make a wild turn. Mercy shrieks and holds onto the car door for dear life. Okay, maybe I'm not the best driver out there. But I haven't had much practice, and I can't get better without that, can I?
"You're gonna make me throw up your birthday cake." Mercy does look a bit green as she takes deep gulps of air. "Take a right here."
I make a less erratic turn. I'm sure her stomach would thank me if it could. Driving up to a side alley, I park precariously with two wheels on the pavement. Checking my work on the curb, I shrug and get out of the car, popping my gum. Mercy follows suit and we make sure to check the road for creepers before wiggling out of our clothes. We're both wearing long-sleeved, knee-length dresses our parents would surely approve of, but underneath them our true outfits wait to shine.
Mercy's in a miniscule co-ord skirt and crop top, with her signature white sneakers. I've tried talking to her about heels but my best friend's freaking clueless. She insists on wearing the white sneakers with everything. My outfit, on the other hand, comes with a change of shoes. I put on a pair of sky-high black stilettos I stole from Dove's closet and unzip my dress to reveal a pair of denim cut-offs and a white lace top with embroidered purple flowers. I'm not wearing a bra, and Mercy eyes me cautiously.
"Dude, I can see your nipples."
"So?" I stick my tongue out at her. "It's my birthday, let me wear what I want to."
"Fiiine," she drawls out. "But don't blame me if we get arrested. You're only sixteen. Pretty sure Nox would throw a fit if he saw you like this."
"So don't tell him." I give her a wicked smile and motion for Mercy to follow me as we slink away from the car. "Is that the bar?"
She nods and I swallow thickly, watching the long line snaking up to the swanky place we've decided to hit up tonight.
"You really
think they'll let us in?" I mutter.
"Kaylee and Sophia got in last week." She reapplies her red lipstick. "And we look way, way hotter than them."
"But do we look older?" I chew my lower lip, erasing any trace of lipstick I had left myself. "They're seniors, M."
"So? One look at your chest and that bouncer's fucking toast." She winks confidently before grabbing my hand. "Come on. Let's give it a try."
Throwing one last look at my car, I take a deep breath and follow my best friend to the entrance of the club. She pulls me right past the line where people boo us and hiss. But Mercy ignores it all. I really do admire her confidence.
Finally, we're standing in front of the intimidating bouncer. Mercy was right, he's staring right at my tits. But then his expression turns pissed off and he meets my eyes.
"Nope," he says, shaking his head. "Not fucking happening."
"Please," I whine. "It's my birthday."
"So? Step aside, girls." He opens the velvet rope to allow more people to enter. One of the girls smirks at me and I nearly boil over with anger.
"Please." I try to grab his hand, but he pulls back, giving me a warning glare.
"You don't even have fake IDs, kid, what did you fucking expect?" he rolls his eyes at me. "How old are you? Eighteen?"
"Y-Yeah." I give him my most confident smile.
"Sure." Another eye roll follows. "Come on, give me a fucking break. Your tits are barely an A-cup and your friend looks about twelve."
"Hey!" Mercy glares.
"Just telling you like it is. Off you go."
I pout, turning on my puppy eyes. Mr. Evil Bouncer here looks like the family type. Maybe I shouldn't have been betting on my nipples getting us in. The puppy eyes always work on Nox.
"Please," I try again. "Just this one time."
"I let you in, kid, and I'll have a whole load of twelve-year-olds lining up tomorrow," he grunts. "This is for your own good. Go on, get."
Tyrant Daddy: An Age Gap Forbidden Romance Page 1