by Dani René
“God, what the fuck is wrong with you?” she suddenly bursts out. Through the haze of anger, I glance up and find her glaring at me.
“What did you just say to me?” My voice is controlled, low and gravelly, and from the expression on my face, she must know I’m livid.
“Nothing . . .,” she pouts, but this time I’m not falling for her little girl act. If she wants to be an adult, she better start acting like one. So many times over the past year, I’ve looked at her and seen not my little girl, but a woman. An adult. Someone who challenges me. When I was married to Louisa, I didn’t look at another woman, let alone entertain the thought of growing old with anyone but her. When she died, my world collapsed around me. It was Mila who dragged me from the dark to the light. Her light.
“Mila Reyes do not ignore me,” I command, and her eyes meet mine.
“I’m not. I’m just tired of you looking at me like a fucking child.” The curse word falling from her lips doesn’t anger me like a parent should. It makes me want to chuckle at how much my daughter has grown up.
“If you use that word in front of me one more time, you will get a spanking, and you’ll not be able to sit down for a week. Or did you want your Uncle Grayson to do it?” I’m almost in her face as I bite out my question, and her mouth gapes in shock. She doesn’t know that I know about her conversations and flirting with him, but when I meet her indignant stare, I know it’s obvious.
She pushes past me, but before she’s out of earshot, I hear it. “Just stay out of my life, Daddy.”
Chapter 5
Mila
“Just stay out of my life, Daddy.” My murmur must have reached him because suddenly I’m being yanked backward.
“Mila, just know if you want to cross that line with him, there is no going back,” he growls, his lips inches from my ear. I don’t respond because I don’t trust my words. Instead, I push back and run into my bedroom, ignoring the shock that slowly envelopes me.
My father knows. Was I that obvious about it? Did Grayson say anything to him? The doorbell dings through the house, and I curl around my pillow. I wish Dad didn’t invite that woman over he’s been seeing. Brigitte. I can’t stand her. She’s as fake as a damn Barbie doll, and I’m over seeing him waste his time with her.
Before I have time to think, my bedroom door flies open, and Grayson Connor is standing there looking as delicious as he did this morning. His shirt is unbuttoned, and the cuffs are rolled up to his elbows. “Gabe says you’re in here pouting about the tattoo,” he quips with a smirk. Mischief sparkles in his gaze, and I can’t help shaking my head.
“I’m in here because he’s being obtuse, and he also knows about us.” He doesn’t deny it; instead, he nods and takes a step inside, shutting the door behind him.
“Come here, Mila,” he orders in a tone so rough I feel the words ripple over my skin. Rolling over, I push off the bed and take a tentative step toward him. “Closer,” he growls. Yes, he growled. Once our bodies are flush, he reaches for my wrists and pulls me against him. “Let me see your ink.”
Releasing me, he steps back, and I gently shove the shorts down an inch to show him the script that adorns my stomach just below my belly button. Another rumble comes from him, and when I meet those molten chocolate eyes, they burn into me.
Swiftly, he grabs me and spins me around, pressing me against the wall beside my bedroom door. The soft lavender is so close to my face; it looks white. “Are you mine, sweetheart?” he whispers over my cheek. I don’t respond. Instead, I press my ass against his crotch. The thick hardness of his cock is evident, and I can’t help biting my lip and moaning like a wanton little slut.
Generally, his thick Scottish accent drives me crazy, but now that he’s murmuring in my ear, I can’t stop the illicit thoughts from running rampant through my mind.
A low growl rumbles in his chest. “Do you think rubbing your little ass on my cock is going to get you out of a spanking?”
“Maybe,” I murmur, my voice breathy as I respond with a shiver skittering down my spine.
“You’re sorely mistaken, Mila, because Uncle Grayson is going to teach you just what naughty girls get when they’re bad.”
Jesus.
My thighs squeeze together in eager anticipation. Desire coils low in my stomach, tightening everything below my belly button. Before I can answer, he spins me in his arms and presses my front to his. His cock pushes against my stomach, and I can’t stop the moan that falls from my lips.
He leans in and murmurs in my ear, “My innocent, little sweetheart. I’m about to color those ass cheeks red, and then I’m going to make you purr.”
With one small step back, he regards me with that filthy smirk curling his lips. He reaches for my hand and tugs me along as we head toward the bed.
He settles onto the mattress and tugs me over his lap. Fuck. He’s really doing it.
A feather-light stroke down my spine, so slow it seems to seep through the cotton of my top heats my skin. He reaches my shorts, and with one big, rough hand, he grips my left cheek, squeezing it. “You have such a lovely little ass. I’ve wanted to spank you for a long time now, sweetheart,” he confirms, his voice thick with desire. “Stand. I want to see those pretty panties you wore for me.”
I manage to rise from his lap. Snapping my gaze to his, I gasp, “For you? You really think I wore these for you?” I ask incredulously.
“Of course you did.” He grins confidently.
“I don’t do everything for you.”
“So, you don’t lie in bed at night rubbing your little cunt for me?” The way he says cunt is probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. His accent is making it even harder to resist. I don’t answer. Instead, I obey his request.
Unbuttoning my shorts, I shove them down my legs, allowing them to pool at my feet. I step out of my ballet flats, and I tug my tank top up and over my head. I’m standing before him in only a pair of sheer, black panties and a bra to match.
“Is that what you wanted to see?” I ask insolently. My curvy frame along with my C-cup breasts seem to have him speechless. My nipples harden against the luxurious fabric under his intense scrutiny. Nothing could have prepared me for this. He reaches out, and with his index finger, strokes the ink on my skin.
“These are perfect.” His reverent tone is more than I can handle, and I feel tears spring to my eyes. Without warning, he grips my hips, careful not to touch the sensitive scars, and tugs me onto his lap so I’m straddling him. “Look at me,” he commands me in that tone once more, and when I meet those deep cocoa pools, they’re filled with desire, darkening to an almost black.
“I am,” I quip playfully. My hands grip his shoulders, and I can feel his muscles tense under my tender touch. My body trembles when he trails both hands up to my arms and my hips roll involuntarily against him with my heated core against his hard bulge.
“Jesus, Mila, we shouldn’t. You shouldn’t want me. Do you know that?” he asks, and I nod.
“I do.” My confession earns me a pained expression. “But I love you.” His gaze snaps to mine, and as I roll my hips, I realize his restraint is slowly slipping. The ebb and flow of our bodies remind me of waves in the ocean, back and forth as I continue to grind.
My head falls back, and my eyes flutter closed as I revel in the erotic yet taboo act. “Please,” I mewl as his lips find my hardened buds through the soft material of my bra.
They’re peaked painfully, and his groan does nothing to ease the tightness in my belly. As if a storm is rolling in and I’m about to be caught in the aftermath. Dad’s right; there’s no going back. A stinging swat lands on my ass, and I cry out.
“But knowing it’s wrong, that’s what makes you wet, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” he questions, and I’m so far gone, so lost in the lust for him. A man. Not my uncle, but a man.
“Yes, Uncle Grayson.” The words fall unbidden, and I ride the wave, slow and meticulous until I’m at the crest, needy and aching for release. For the o
rgasm I know is only an inch away, within my grasp.
“Come for me, sweetheart. Come on your uncle’s cock,” he growls, and even though he’s not inside me yet, his words spur me on, pushing me to the edge, and I shatter. Completely.
“Oh, God!” I cry out. My body convulses as my release hits me deep in my core, rattling through me like a wave crashing on the shore.
The storm raging in my body slowly subsides, and when I open my eyes, I find him staring up at me in awe. As if he wants to worship me. And I’d let him.
We sit silently, in astonishment at what just happened. Brown eyes meeting green, wonderment and emotion are tightening in my chest. “I . . .” My words falter. I want to apologize, but I don’t know what I’d be saying sorry for.
“That was the single most incredible moment of my life, Mila.” Grayson’s voice, tone, and words send heat tingling through me. My blood feels as if it’s boiling with lust, but deep down I know it’s more. It’s love. I’ve loved him as a father figure for so long, and now when I look at him, the affection I feel, the love, is for a man I want as a lover.
“You . . . I mean . . . Shit.” I drop my gaze to his mouth, and I watch the small grin playing on it, teasing me like he always does.
“Don’t curse,” he admonishes, but the grin on his lips tells me he loves me cursing.
“Why? Because you’re going to fuck me?” Lifting my finger, I slowly trail it over the stubble on his chin in a lazy, teasing move. Swiftly, he grips my wrist and brings my finger to his lips.
Pressing a soft kiss on the tip, he releases my wrist and reaches for my face. His big hand cups my cheek and swipes a thumb over my lips. “I’m going to kiss you now. This isn’t going to be the same as the kisses we’ve shared before, Mila. There are so many reasons I shouldn’t, and that I should let you go find a boy your own age, or even one that you haven’t known since you were a teenager and forget this ever happened, but I can’t. I crave you like a fucking drug, and I’m tired of denying myself a fix. I need you to know, sweetheart, this isn’t only a one-night thing. If we do this, I want you. Only you,” he confirms, but before I can ask what he means, his thumb pops between my lips, and I can’t help sucking it into my mouth.
Flicking my tongue over it, I taunt him, and his eyes darken further. Desire pools in them, making them the color of dark chocolate and just as tempting.
“It’s been a long two years watching you grow into a woman, and recently having these explicit feelings drives me to jerk my cock every day over fantasies of you in my mind.” His filthy confession has arousal pooling between my legs, adding to the wetness already there from my orgasm.
“You’re not the only one, Grayson,” I murmur quietly.
“Good girl.” With that, he cups both my cheeks and pulls my face toward him in a soul-searing kiss. His lips mold to mine, and his tongue delves into my mouth, fighting for dominance. He tastes of sin and taboo, yet he also tastes like pleasure and ecstasy. “You smell delectable, little one,” he murmurs in my ear, and the shudder that slowly travels through my body is obvious. He wants me. I want him. Can this work?
I know this isn’t going to be easy, but I want it more than anything.
“Uncle Grayson, your breathing on my neck is ticklish.” I giggle playfully as his lips continue their descent to the curves of my breasts. He suckles, bites, and kisses me before gazing up again.
“As long as I hear that precious laugh from you, I’ll do anything, sweetheart.” His soft-spoken words cause me to smile so wide.
“Anything, Uncle Grayson?” I question, and his grin is pure sin. The way we’re sitting, it’s as if our bodies are made to fit together. He reaches for my face, his hand gripping my long black hair at the nape, and he tugs me toward his mouth.
Our lips only inches apart, he murmurs the words I’ve been dying to hear for far too long. “I’m going to feast on you, sweetheart, every supple inch of your body.” A deep rumble comes from his chest, his mocha-colored eyes are almost black, and his lips form a smirk so devilish I can see how women fall to their knees for him.
Without warning, he grips my hips and rises easily. Turning around, he sets me on the bed, my back on the soft mattress with my legs on either side of his hips. He reaches for the waistband of my black, sheer panties and tugs them toward him. As he guides the soft material down my long, lithe legs, his gaze lingers on every inch of me. I watch as he rises, looking delectable as his shirt finds the floor in a soft whoosh. Large hands grip my hips, and he settles between my thighs.
We’re both on the bed where I’ve spent many nights dreaming of him. My legs splay, and he stares in wonder at my slick core. I know Daddy is in the house, but right now, all I want is Grayson.
“Jesus,” he grunts, his tone rough with desire, and my lips lift into a smirk.
“You shouldn’t curse, Grayson,” I tease playfully. “My uncle fucking hates me saying anything remotely curse-like.” I lift my hand, biting down on my thumb.
“Sweetheart, you’re going to be doing a lot more than cursing in a moment. I hope you’re not shy about Gabe hearing you come because I’m going to make you scream my fucking name,” he grunts, trying to keep his composure. The tiny bit of restraint falls away when his gaze falls on my pussy, which has a small patch of hair from my mound to my clit.
Grayson slides both his hands up and down my thighs as if he’s massaging me, calming the electricity shooting through my veins, but it doesn’t help, because I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been before.
A moan, so sexual, and so fucking erotic falls from my lips. “Please, Grayson,” I beg, blatant and hungry. He leans in, capturing my mouth in a soul-stealing kiss. There’s nothing familial about it. This is a kiss of lovers, a man, and a woman. My body trembles, and when he breaks the contact, our eyes meet in a heated stare-down.
“Off with that bra, sweetheart. I want to see all of you,” Grayson growls, his tone thick and demanding. “I’m starving, and I’m about to feast on that little cunt of yours. Do you want me to?” he taunts me, and I know he’s loving every fucking second of it.
Quickly, without a second thought, I nod. No questions, no denying what we want, what we need. This is it. I’m stepping over the line, and I’m about to allow him to devour me.
I’m no longer his niece. I’m a woman he’s about to taste.
Chapter 6
Grayson
She’s perfect. There isn’t an inch of her I’m not going to touch, lick, bite, and fuck. She watches me intently with a small, shy smile on her plump lips. As soon as the flimsy material falls to the floor, her gaze rakes over me. I may not be chiseled like her little school friends, but I keep in shape with a daily gym routine and some night-time cardio that keeps me satisfied.
God, I’ve waited with baited-breath for so long, wanting every inch of her, wondering if I’d ever get the chance to get a taste. When she turned seventeen, as wrong as it was, my thoughts would drift to her like a boat, ebbing along, following her current.
I snake an arm around her waist and lean in to run the tip of my nose up against the curve of her throat. The smooth skin dots with goosebumps as I drink in the scent of her flesh.
“You’re really ready for this, Mila?” I question, and she nods. Kneeling between her splayed thighs, my tongue darts out to lick her pussy. Getting the first taste of Mila is the most erotic, forbidden thing I’ve done. Her body shudders, and I grip both thighs, holding her open to my gaze. Her fingers find my hair, fisting the strands as I devour her.
My cock is thick and hard, ready to feel her, to drive into her, to fucking claim her. But I’m feasting on her pretty little pussy with the dark patch of hair that’s leading toward her puffy lips, and I’m soaring. My hands trail up to her tits, and my fingers find her hardened nipples, tweaking them, tugging them playfully, eliciting whimpers and moans.
The thoughts rushing through me have my blood heating with desire, and my heart thuds against my chest. She whimpers as my mouth works h
er pussy, and I bask in every erotic sound.
“Oh . . . Oh . . . God . . .” Her moans are mumbled as they tumble from her lips. Her fingers tug at my hair, pulling so hard the bite stings, but I don’t care. I’m lost to the sensation of her body pulsing around my tongue. Her body locks, and a mewl, both decadent and erotic echoes around us, and I glance up to see her beautiful face as she unravels.
“So fucking sweet, my sweetheart,” I murmur against her core. The sight of her glistening is enough to undo me right here in my fucking slacks.
Her gaze falls on me. Something in it tells me she feels it, our connection, and suddenly I’m jolted back to my past. A place I’d rather not go. I shake my head to clear the memories.
I focus on the here and now because I’m not sure if after this is all over, she’ll still want me. That thought stings. It hurts, and I know why. I’ve let myself feel, fall . . . Fuck, if I’m honest, it’s made me love.
Mila is nineteen, almost twenty, and I can safely say I’ve fallen in love with her. My feelings for her changed and morphed into so much more over the past three years. We’ve grown closer than I led my brother to believe. Chatting over text messages and on the phone every now and again, I learned more about this exotic beauty than he knows of her.
Every message, every call hearing about her boyfriends, or shall I call them fuck buddies, drove me insane. Those nights I spent buried in women, but the only one in my mind as I pounded those strangers was her. Mila.
She reaches for me and pulls me closer for our lips to meet once again in a soul-stealing kiss. “I want you,” she murmurs. In this moment, my heart wants to beat right out of my chest and into her hands.
Rising, I push off my slacks and boxer briefs. A small gasp falls from her lips at my naked form. My nine inches will make her remember me tomorrow. I climb onto the bed beside her, and her body curls into mine. Her bare skin on mine has me barely holding onto a sliver of restraint. Grinding my teeth, I take a deep breath and hope this isn’t going to blow up in our faces. Fear, lust, desire, and frustration fills me as I pull her against me. This woman has captured me more than I could have imagined.