“No.” She squeezes her thighs back together, that little chin lifting. “I won’t let you make me come. Not unless you’re inside me.”
Something dangerous curls in my belly at being denied the right to give her pleasure. Shit, I’m all but drooling to get a taste of her fresh, young pussy. If I don’t hear her moan and know it’s my doing, I’m going to lose my mind. That creeping insanity is what makes my voice emerge dark. Scary. “You wouldn’t be playing games with me, now, would you, niece?”
“It’s not a game!” she shouts.
Faster than lightning, Clara slides off the counter and tries to get past me, but I catch her around the waist. And that’s when the struggling starts. Not to mention the conflict inside me. My mind is telling me to free her from my unbreakable hold before she goes and injures herself. But my body is telling me this is natural for us. She’s throwing a hissy fit and pleasure is the only way to appease her. My dick wouldn’t be thick as a rolling pin unless this was right. Hell, maybe Clara doesn’t even know why she’s fighting me, but I do. She’s not getting her way and on top of that, she’s horny. Daddy has to fix it.
Her back is to my front and she’s twisting right to left, scratching at my arms. “Let me go. I hate you.”
A spike lodges in my heart, but I ignore the discomfort and remind myself she doesn’t mean it. “Get these panties off,” I grit out, using my free hand to rip them down her kicking legs. “You better quit if you know what’s good for you, girl.”
“I do know what’s good for me. You won’t give it to me.”
With that pronouncement, she renews her struggles. Naked. Naked and writhing her perky backside all over my lap. Needing leverage, I walk us toward the kitchen table and push her face down on the wooden surface. Going on instinct, I step to the side and deliver a mean slap to her ass, while she continues to battle my hold. “This hurts me more than it hurts you,” I rasp, delivering two more rough smacks, come leaking from my cock at the sight of my handprint on her flesh. “Now you’re going to be a good little girl and let Uncle Rex get his fill of pussy. You understand?”
“No!”
“Oh yes, you are.” It’s hardly an effort to flip Clara over on the table, leaving her on her back. She catches me across the face with an open palm, but I ignore the sting and yank her knees open, getting my first unobstructed view of her perfect cunt. “Who the fuck are you waxing this for?”
“Not you, obviously.” She tries to close her legs, but I keep them pried open. “You don’t even want it.”
They probably hear my laughter in China. “Don’t want it? I think of nothing else. Nothing. Your pussy rules my life.” I deliver the subject of my obsession a slap and savor Clara’s gasp. “Answer me. Why don’t it have a single goddamn hair?”
“Dance costumes,” she says, glaring at me. “Sometimes they ride up or tug to the side and…it’s just easier this way, all right?”
My rage ebbs slowly. Taking advantage of her distraction, I drop down to my knees, jerking Clara to the table’s edge at the same time. She begins to struggle when she sees I’m done talking, but as soon as I deliver that first lick, the fight in her vanishes. I hear her shoulders land on the table, a shocked moan filling the kitchen. Teasing her clit with my thumb, I lift my head to find her mouth open, eyes glazed. “I can taste our fight down here, girl. Soaked you up good, didn’t it?” I replace my thumb with the tip of my tongue, jiggling her nub until she’s gasping my name. Uncle Rex, Uncle Rex. “Your parents aren’t around to make you behave, so it has to be me. This is how your uncle disciplines you. Just like this.”
I’m so close—so fucking close—to calling myself her Daddy, especially with the taste of heaven on my lips and tongue. With my talk of discipline hanging in the air. There’s a rumble deep inside me that’s going to become an earthquake once I let loose. So I use the sweetest cunt I’ve ever tasted to stop myself. I bathe every inch of it. Every smooth inch. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remember Rudy and Hank are in the cabin, but I can’t stop. The volume of Clara’s moans is growing, her fingers spearing through my hair to keep me stationed at her clit.
Yeah, this girl’s clit is sensitive as they come. Knew it when she got off from my fingers while I was tapping her virgin ass. Nothing can stop her from coming when it gets the right amount of attention. And nothing is going to stop her now.
“Oh. Ohhhhh. Please don’t stop, Uncle Rex.” When I gently suck her little bud of flesh, only to attack it afterward with side-to-side jiggles from my tongue, Clara’s hips shoot off the table, her grip on my hair jerking me closer. “Feels so good. Oh God. I’m g-going to…I-I think…”
What I wouldn’t give to sink three fingers into her right now. I’d fuck them in deep and fast until she gushed, but I’d probably pop her cherry in the process. My hands curl into fists on her thighs. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
Her scream is broken and hoarse when she orgasms, her feet flopping around on my shoulders, pushing at them, her tight body shaking like a fucking leaf. Goddamn, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Don’t even get me started on the state of her pussy. I can see it clenching, feel it on my lips. It’s like a pink rose covered in dew when she finishes whining my name, her body lying boneless on the table.
My cock is still in a state of pain, but I lumber to my feet and twist my balls hard, trying to lessen the agony of my erection. Because she’s too beautiful like this to mess up.
And hell, she’s sleeping.
With a sigh, I go to the kitchen door and—blocking the sight of my naked niece—I open it and find my two friends milling by the couch. Shit. They heard every second of what happened and they’re going to want some kind of explanation. My instinct is to tell them to mind their own business, but if they heard Clara struggling and fighting me, I don’t want these good friends of mine thinking I done her dirty.
Didn’t you, though? Aren’t you?
I clear my throat. “Get me a blanket, would you?”
Rudy tosses me an afghan that’s settled over the back of a loveseat. A minute later, I pass through the living room with a blanket-wrapped Clara, her face tucked trustingly into my chest.
“Can we eat now?” Rudy asks, wincing when Hank punches him in the shoulder. “What?”
Chapter Nine
Clara
Dancers make the best eavesdroppers, because we’re light on our feet. The three men in the living room don’t even hear me coming down the hallway, especially over the noisy television. They’re watching some survivalist reality show and nursing beers, frankly looking kind of uncomfortable with each other. Rex is lounged back in a leather easy chair, his two friends spaced out on the nearby couch.
My attention travels back to Rex and I have to cover my mouth so they won’t hear my dreamy sigh. Holy moly. He gets more irresistible every time I see him. In the old white T-shirt he’s wearing, I can finally see his tattoos. They rake down his arm in spikes and brushes of bluish green. The material of the shirt is thinner than his usual flannel, so I can see patterns of his chest hair underneath, more tattoos sneaking out over the neckline.
He doesn’t have a flat stomach or six-pack abs. Not like the girls in my dance school never stop talking about. No, he’s got a big barrel chest that drops to a real man’s waist. Thick but powerful. Sturdy. He’s a tank with thighs to match and they’re barely contained inside dark blue jeans.
As I watch, he lifts the bottle of beer to his lips, draining half of it with one gulp, the slide of his Adam’s apple making me ticklish between my thighs. I don’t even remember falling asleep after…after Rex used his mouth on me there. But God, how embarrassing. Seriously. Who just passes out on a table?
I didn’t even satisfy him.
My gaze drops to the bulge in Rex’s lap. Did he touch himself when I wasn’t awake to do it myself? If he did, I’m going to throw another tantrum. Throwing my fit in the kitchen felt…good, actually. I’ve always been polite and mild mannered, but there’s something abo
ut Rex that fills me with static energy. Makes me want to lash out and be a brat, just so he’ll take over. Take control of me. Touch me.
“All right,” Rex says, slapping a hand down on the arm of the chair. I fade further into the hallway, pressing my back against the wall. “Let’s get this shit over with so you can stop acting like a couple of scandalized church ladies. Say what you have to say.”
“She really your niece?” asks the skinny, red-headed man. “That’s some serious shit, Rex.”
“Step-niece. My new sister-in-law’s kid,” Rex answers in a grim voice, hoisting his beer bottle for another swig. “Met her for the first time a few days ago. By the time I knew we were related—”
“You’d already baited the trap,” says the second man, with a wise nod. “Hell, I’ve been there. Except mine was an undercover cop, not my niece.” He turns thoughtful. “Although, she was probably someone’s niece.”
“Jesus, Hank. Shut up,” Rex mutters, setting down his beer. “This is…different.”
“Bet her daddy won’t think so.”
“Don’t call him that, Rudy,” Rex snaps, sitting forward in his chair. “He’s her stepfather. They ain’t close enough for him to be called Daddy.”
Rudy and Hank mimic each other, holding up their hands in surrender.
“How is it different than my undercover cop situation?” Hank asks, after a long pause. “You’re not fitting to keep her, are you?”
“Can’t.” A muscle jumps in Rex’s cheek. “Can’t do that. I’m a salty bastard like you two. I couldn’t make her happy. And hell, you seen her. She’s too young, too beautiful. I spend those fall months crabbing. You don’t think someone will steal her out from under me while I’m gone?”
“She’s a peach, all right,” Hank drawls. “You’d have to worry about those young bucks sniffing around.”
Rex sends him a murderous look. “I can say it. You can’t.”
Hank just appears confused. “Which part?”
“All of it.”
Rudy leans forward with a sigh. “The argument is irrelevant. She’s his niece. This kind of shit breaks up a family.” He tips back his beer, finishes it and sets it on the floor. “People will think it’s unnatural. And they won’t mind telling you. Telling her. Hurting her feelings and whatnot.”
“Yeah.” Rex’s voice sounds raw. “Yeah, I can’t ruin her life before it’s barely started.” He shakes his head. “Man, you should see her dance. She’s going to be a star.”
“Tasted her cooking,” Hank says, patting his belly. “Good thing I’m not a young buck anymore, huh, Rex?”
“Last chance,” Rex growls. “Then you’re sleeping outside.”
Hank and Rudy dissolve into laughter.
I’m caught between floating on air and sinking into the ground. Rex talks about me to his friends like I’m important to him. Like I’m special. And there was something about his jealousy when Rudy brought up my stepfather. He’s her stepfather. They ain’t close enough for him to be called Daddy. A low, thrilling tremor moved through me, seeming to hit a target. What was that all about?
The conversation between the men fades and I glide back down the hallway, replaying Rex’s words in my head. I can’t ruin her life…I couldn’t make her happy. At least now I know what I’m up against. Now I know where to prod his armor.
Taking a deep breath, I open my bedroom door and slam it, before padding down the hallway, pretending to rub the sleep from my eyes. Rex tenses as I walk into the living room, his eyes narrowing on the hem of my nightshirt.
“Good…morning?” I laugh at my own joke, since no one seems inclined to do it for me. “Did everyone enjoy dinner?”
Hank chances a look at me, but whips back toward the television when Rex growls. “Best meal I’ve had in a good long while.”
Rudy nods. “Same here. Thanks, Clara.”
Rex shifts in his chair. “Left a plate for you on the stove.”
I twist my fingers in the bottom of my shirt and watch my uncle swallow hard. “I’m not really hungry…” I slide off toward the kitchen. “But those beers look nice. Maybe I’ll have one of those.”
Without waiting for the protest I know is coming, I speed walk into the kitchen, open the fridge and snag the closest bottle. After a short search, I find a bottle opener and spend way too much time figuring out how it works. Eventually, however, I get the beer open and waltz back into the living room, trying to hold the bottle like it’s one of thousands I’ve held in my lifetime.
The closer I come to the trio of men, though, the more it becomes obvious I have nowhere convenient to sit. Rudy and Hank are taking up the couch and Rex’s bulk leaves zero room in the recliner. Having no choice, I move toward the couch, intending to squeeze between Hank and Rudy—
“Get over here, girl.” Rex’s hard voice halts me in the middle of the living room. I turn to find him crooking a finger at me. “Now.”
The desire to throw a tantrum sneaks up on me, but not because I’m mad. I mean, don’t I want to sit on Uncle Rex’s lap? No, I want to throw a tantrum so he carries me off to bed and punishes me how he did earlier.
Why? So you can pass out again?
Oh, shut up.
With my chin raised, I reverse directions and return to Rex’s side. He pats his lap and—ignoring the thickening tension in the room—I ease over the arm and perch on his big, strong thigh, my body angled sideways so his chest meets my right shoulder. Rex clears his throat and sits up straighter, pulling an afghan off the top of the chair, laying it across my bare legs. Then he ignores me and watches the television. As if I don’t feel how much he likes having me in his lap. The proof is growing by the second, finding its way between my butt cheeks.
“You ain’t old enough to drink that beer,” he finally mutters, for my ears alone. “Considering my list of sins concerning you, though, I guess it don’t rate.”
Until he mentions the beer, I forget I’m even holding it, but I take a long pull now, refusing to grimace over the bitter taste. “Uh…yum.”
A laugh rumbles in his chest, making me want to snuggle closer. We’re not alone in the room, though, and I can feel Rudy and Hank’s interest from five feet away. So I lay my head on Uncle’s Rex’s shoulder and try to watch the television program, taking occasional sips from my beer. My limbs start to tingle when I’ve almost reached the bottom of the bottle…and that’s when things like Rex’s scent begin hitting me harder. Not just his soap and aftershave, though. No, the subtle flex of his thighs and the possessive hand he settles on my knee beneath the blanket.
Hoping to ease the sudden pooling of heat between my thighs, I drink the last drop and lean back to set the bottle on the floor. But just the act of arching my back on a stretch is decadent. There’s a delicious tug in my tummy. Rex’s eyes feast on my nipples which are more than visible through the nightshirt. And when I settle back onto his lap, his hand is higher on my thigh. High enough that I can feel the heat of his touch through my panties.
“Stop squirming,” he grunts in my ear. “Sit still.”
“I’m trying.”
Attempting to be subtle, I lean in and take a long whiff of his neck and his hand tightens—hard—on my leg. I think he’s going to admonish me for doing something so intimate in front of his friends, but that hand begins to massage and it melts me all over the place, turning me soft in places I’ve kept safe for Uncle Rex.
“I’d be more comfortable like this,” I whisper, turning beneath the blanket and straddling him. Fizzy bubbles pop in my blood courtesy of the beer, heightened by the most perfect contact in the world. Yes. I settle down on Rex’s huge erection with a roll of my hips and he curses, reaching up to turn off the lamp beside the easy chair. The only light left in the room comes from the television. The darkness might as well be permission to do whatever I want and the beer buzz only encourages me, our audience be damned.
“I eavesdropped,” I whisper in Rex’s ear. “I heard what you said. About boys stealing m
e away. About being too much of a bastard for me.” My tongue dances up the side of his neck and he stiffens. Except for his arm, which spreads the blanket higher. “But I told you, I’ve never liked boys my age. I-I didn’t even know what I wanted, until I saw you. I would be sad and miss you while you’re gone. I’d worry about you. But I would know how right we are and I’d wait. I’d wait years, let alone months. I have.”
“You say that now, Clara, but your mind could change. You’re too young to make decisions like this.” He pulls our hips tighter together, his voice a bare rasp. “Ahh, girl. Ones that could affect your whole life.”
“That’s why you have to make them with me.” I lock my mouth with his, keeping us hovering on the brink of a kiss. Then I reach down and undo his jeans, lowering the zipper slowly, determination simmering inside me. “You won’t let us make decisions that will hurt me. Or my feelings. I don’t know how I know this, but I do. You’re…you’re my…”
“I’m your Daddy,” he breathes against my mouth, his muscles expanding and hardening underneath me. “Ain’t I, little girl?”
It’s almost like flying, this mental cog twisting into place and launching me into the atmosphere. I’ve been missing something my whole life. A safe place, a protector. Even my birth father couldn’t give me those things. But this man does.
Uncle Rex.
Daddy.
There might be two other people in the room, but in this moment, there’s no one else on the planet but Rex and me. And I need him so bad, I’m gasping into the kiss he gives me, his hands delving into my panties to manhandle my bottom. It’s unrestrained, this kiss. Rex fingers my back entrance while sucking my tongue into his mouth and I can’t get enough. Can’t get enough. When Rex tugs away and lays a finger across my lips, tipping his head toward the couch, I turn and find both men have dozed off.
“You want to play, you need to stay quiet.”
Dirty Uncle Page 5