Anything for the Man of the House: Ten Brats who Learn how to Behave (11 page)

Moving away from the window I
headed over to the fire, needing to warm myself up and shake away
my worry I added more wood to the already burning embers. Within
thirty minutes the room was toasty warm, to the point where I
needed to take off my sweat pants and jumper. Underneath I wore a
pair of boy-short panties and a sports bra. I wasn't worried about
my attire; the chief wasn't due home for a couple more hours. And
we had no neighbors that would pop in unexpectedly, hell we had no
neighbors, period.

Lying back down on the lounge I
searched my e-reader for something good to read. I was grateful for
the gift card one of the chief’s men had given me for my birthday.
It meant I was able to download a heap of books, the type that I
didn't want showing up on my dad's bank statement. Books that that
made me hot, and filled that part of me—the part that craved to
have my dad touch me—with a perverse pleasure. I couldn't believe
how many stories were available that were based around my own
fantasies.

Finding one that I hadn't read,
I opened it. Getting myself comfortable, I settled in to see if I
could live out my own desires through words. My mind always
replaced the hero with the images of my own dad.

I had given up on not wanting
him to do naughty things to me, on fighting my own imagination and
desire. It had been a useless feat when, apart from the men in his
squad, he was the only male around. And the only one that could
make my panties dripping wet. I was stuck in a small house with him
until the storm and weather allowed me to get out of Alaska, so I
didn
’
t see the harm in letting my
imagination run a little wild.

I let my depravity fill me as I
lost myself to the words, my mind once again replacing the
characters on the page with the chief and me. The clearing of a
throat brought me out of the book haze lust I was in. Looking up, I
was dazzled by the sight before me. My brain forgetting for a
moment that this wasn't a story, but real life. That the man
standing there in white and grey camouflage was not a character,
but my stepfather.

"What are you doing Myka?" He
asked as his eyes scanned my body. It was then that I remembered
that I was only wearing my bra and panties. I didn
’
t know what came over me, but like a kitten
stretching from sleep, I arched my back revealing more of my almost
naked body. My rounded breast jiggling with the movement. The
Chief’s jaw started the ticking action I always associated with
anger, but for a moment I thought I saw desire fill his eyes.

“I was reading, Senior Chief.”
It must be cabin fever; because a sultry sound that had filled my
voice to combine with my sassy attitude, was something I had never
done before.

“Why are you naked?” His already
deep voice sounded gravelly and strained.

“It
’
s
hot in here. You really should get out of those fatigues before you
overheat.”

The ticking in his jaw doubled
in time. Again I couldn't help myself, in a feline type move I
pushed my hands over my head while stretching my legs out. In the
back of my mind I wondered if I
’
d start
purring from simply looking at him.

The chief closed his eyes. His
Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. God, he could turn me on. I was
positive that if he looked between my legs he would see the wet
patch forming, dampening my panties.

“Myka, I think you should go and
get dressed.” The words sounded hesitant to me. Like he was unsure
if that was something he really wanted me to do. Tilting my head to
the side I studied him. His jaw was still ticking, his hands were
balled into fists beside his hips and the front of his pants were
pulled taut over a rather impressive bulge.

My mouth filled with saliva as I
watched that bulge thump against the material.
Fuck he was
massive.
The muscles in my core did a little happy dance, and
my virginal brain pondered how something which looked that big
behind loose cargo fatigues, could possibly fit into something so
small.

Flicking my eyes back to his
face, I found his own whiskey brown ones trained on my baby blues.
I blushed at being caught looking at my father’s cock. But
something inside of me was behaving like a cheerleader, she was
doing star jumps and chanting
yippee give it to me
.

The cabin fever was obviously
still affecting my brain. In a move I didn
’
t know I was capable of, I made my size sixteen
butt look sexy as I got up from my prone position on the lounge and
sauntered over to where the chief stood rigidly. Standing on
tiptoes I whispered against his skin,
“Welcome home,
Daddy.
”
Then I pressed
my lips against his. I didn
’
t know what
had made me do it. I have no idea why I had called him daddy. He
had always been chief or dad to me. But the look on his face as I’d
said
daddy
had something in the back of my mind flattering
awake, and my pussy clamping around empty air.

His breath smelt of mint and
cigars, telling me he
’
d had a great
training session. He always celebrated with a cigar if he was
impressed with what his men had accomplished that day. But mostly I
registered how soft his lips were against my own. He didn't move
them, didn't kiss me back. Feeling silly I went to step away from
him. Having not stood on point since I was ten, one of my ankles
rolled under my own weight. My balance teetered and I fell against
his solid chest, my beaded nipples stabbing into the thick
camouflage jacket he wore, and my lips were somehow still in
contact with his. My fathers
’
hands
automatically went to my hips in a bid to steady me.

The cold tips of his fingers
felt like branding irons against my flesh. The hard cock that
I
’
d watched twitching seconds before, now
stabbed into my stomach. I couldn't hold back my whimper. He was
huge and he was hard. I wanted him to show me how to take a
man.

With a growl, the chief’s short
nails dug into the soft flesh at my hips. Lips that had been idle
against mine now moved, turning the peck into a proper kiss.

Opening my mouth I allowed his
tongue entry. It was better than anything I could have imagined. My
knees shook as he took control, teaching me without words what he
wanted me to do. I couldn't believe it. I must
’
ve been dreaming, because there was no way that he
was kissing me, his chubby stepdaughter. The girl who had never
been on a date before. If this was a dream I didn't want to wake
up, I didn’t want it to end.

His hands slipped from my hips
to the cheeks of my ass, the tips of his fingers settling deep into
the crease that parted the large globes. He pulled me closer to
him, his stiff cock felt like it was trying to drill through my
belly button. When he pulled his lips from mine I was dizzy with
desire.

"Myka we can't be doing
this.”

His words would have bothered me
if his hands weren
’
t still gripping with
enough strength to leave bruises. But he was right, we
shouldn
’
t be doing this. He had been my
dad since I was eight, he had been the one to come to school
recitals, he was the one that scanned each and every one of my
friends to make sure I wasn
’
t hanging out
with the wrong crowd. He was the one to tell me I was beautiful and
not fat when my junior prom date stood me up.
We
shouldn
’
t be doing
this
. I shouldn
’
t want him to be the
one to take me to heights I
’
d only ever
dreamed about. But knowing that we shouldn
’
t and telling my body to stop wanting it, were two
very different things. Letting my body take charge, I asked.
“Why?”

“Myka, you
’
re my daughter.” His protest was lost as he buried
his face into the curve of my neck.

Natural instinct kicked in and I
tilted my head back, allowing him access to the soft skin behind my
ear. My pussy trembled with the gentle sweep of his tongue. Who the
hell would have believed, all those books, about that area being
one to have me almost climaxing from only the touch of his lips?
Digging my fingers into his scalp I held him close to me, my
breathing became difficult from the little attention that he was
showing me.

“Not by blood, you’re not really
my dad.” I managed to object through my moans.

His head easily moved away from
my neck despite my effort to hold him in place.
No
my inner
cheerleader cried. She wanted him sucking on my neck again.

His pools of whiskey drowned me
with the reflection of my own need. He seemed to be thinking of
something. Biting my lip I stopped myself from begging him not to
end what we had started, not to leave me wanting. His eyes darted
to my mouth, his head made a minute action similar to a nod and in
a show of strength he lifted me into his arms, clashing our mouths
back together.

Wrapping my arms around his wide
shoulders and my legs around his hips, I held onto him as tightly
as I could. His muscle-bound frame made me feel small, something
that I knew I wasn
’
t. His tongue glided
over mine. Feeling bolder I tried one of the moves I had read
about. On the next pass of his tongue I clamped my lips around the
wet muscle and sucked. Daddy groaned, a tremble vibrating through
him and into me. I hadn
’
t even realized
we had moved until my back made contact with the rough surface, of
the cabins exposed wood wall. With my legs around his waist his
cock was perfectly aligned with my kitty. His hips rocked against
mine, mimicking what I wanted him to do without the barrier of
material between us.

The need for air made me pull
from his mouth. His weather-aged face, inches from mine, showed
anger once again. The sight scared me as much as it turned me on.
He was a trained Navy Seal, he had the skills to bring men to their
knees and have others following him into war. But at that moment,
even with his hips still rubbing a delicious pattern against mine,
the look on his face had me wondering if this was the right
decision.

“Da…
Chief
—”

“Don
’
t, Myka. Do you know what you
’
ve started?”

I could only nod my head at him;
I didn
’
t know what he wanted me to say
because I didn
’
t exactly know what I had
started. Something had taken over my body when I
’
d seen him standing there. I was blaming the
cheerleader that was still doing cartwheels and telling him to
hurry up and get this show on the road. My mind was a little more
hesitant as I studied his irate face.

“We shouldn
’
t be doing this.” The way he said it, made it sound
like he was trying to talk himself out of being with me. My stomach
dropped at the thought of him leaving me unfulfilled.

“
Chief
—”

“
Not
Chief.
”

I was getting a little confused.
His face was a mask of anger, his eyes pools of whiskey lust. His
cock continued a hypnotic dance against my core. Thinking was
becoming difficult. He must have noticed my confusion because he
answered my unspoken question. “Don
’
t
call me Chief.”

“Then what do you want me to
call you. Eric?” It was the first time I had ever called him by his
name.

“No, Daddy.” With that his lips
recaptured mine. A naughty thrill coursed through me with the
knowledge that he wanted me to call him daddy. Moving us away from
the wall, I expected him to carry me down the short hallway that
led to the bedrooms. Instead he turned us around and made his way
over to the thick rug that filled the space in front of the
fireplace.

With each one of his steps I
could feel the muscles of his arms flex. Confident in the fact that
he wouldn
’
t drop me I pushed my hands
between us, searching for the opening of his jacket. Wanting the
cumbersome fabric out of the way.

I squealed as our angle changed.
One of daddy
’
s strong hands moved to the
middle of my back, supporting me as he slowly laid me down on the
soft rug. The thick fur-like material tickled at my bare back
causing me to giggle. A smile crossed daddy
’
s face and with an agility belying his size and age
he sprang back to his feet.

With deft movements he removed
his thick jacket. His hands were quick and efficient. He wasn't
drawing out his reveal, and I didn
’
t
mind. I had waited years to see him with nothing on. With military
efficiency he removed layer upon layer until only his pants and
boots remained. His eyes scanned up and down my body taking in
every inch of me. If it had been anyone else seeing me in my semi
naked state, I might have been self-conscious of my size, but not
with daddy.

I couldn
’
t take my eyes off his chest. His muscles had
muscles; I had to swallow the saliva filling my mouth. He was by
far the fittest forty-three-year-old, I had ever seen.

“Do you know what I am going to
do to you, Myka?”

Forcing my eyes from his
lickable chest I looked up into his chiseled face and nodded my
head. "Make love to me."

“No.” His voice was rough, and
face held the same expression it did when he was commanding his
squad. “I am going to fuck you hard and fast.”

A fissure of fear raced through
me. Didn
’
t he know that I was a virgin?
That no man, or boy, had ever touched me? That the kiss he had just
gifted me was the first I had ever had? And although I didn't want
him to stop I needed him to be gentle with me? My inner cheerleader
had even stopped her high kicks and thought;
doesn
’
t he have to prepare us?
I was in total
agreement with her. I knew from simply feeling him pressed against
me that he wasn
’
t a small man, in any
way.