over my seat, all while keeping us on the road. “Stassi,” I croak out and when her eyes snap to mine, I briefly meet hers before I turn back to the road.
I grapple with the idea of telling her the truth. “What color are your panties?”
“Wh-what?”
“What color are they?”
“White…because obviously,” she says pointing down at herself and the white dress she’s wearing that makes her look almost ethereal.
“Are they lacy? A thong? Describe them,” I command her.
Her eyes widen. “Wait…what?”
“You poked the beast, baby. Now tell me.” I grit out and she smiles before biting her bottom lip. “All lace. Sheer at the crotch. A thin string between my ass cheeks.”
I drool at the thought. The thought of plucking that thin string, moving it to the side, and sliding my tongue between her ass and into that sacred hole. My mouth waters at the idea of kissing her through those sheer panties. “Do you have hair on your cunt, Stassi? Or are you bare?”
“Fuck.” She breathes out and stares at the road in front of us. “I’m bare…”
“Of course, you are,” I grumble. I hadn’t expected anything else from my walking sex of a stepdaughter.
Stepdaughter, you fucking perv.
I’m not touching her, I argue. We’re just talking.
We pull into our driveway and as soon as I shut off the car, she turns towards me. “When we go inside are, we…?”
“I want to talk,” I tell her.
“About…this?”
“Yes.” Her pupils dilate and I note that her thighs are pressed together. “Are you wet, Stassi?”
“Yes, wetter than I’ve ever been in my whole life.”
A growl leaves my throat and before I can think I’m out of the car and practically ripping Stassi from her seat. I’m pulling her but she’s keeping up just as well, practically sprinting to get into the house behind me. I open the door and slam it behind us before pressing her up against the door.
“You cannot tell a soul about anything that happens tonight.”
“Never,” she whispers.
“Whatever happens…stays between you and me, got it?”
“Yes.” Her eyes are wild with fire and sin and I have a feeling she’ll be controlling this ride tonight.
“I’m not saying I’m going to fuck you,” I tell her honestly, “but I’m not saying I won’t do that either.”
“Fuck…me?” The innocent side of her must take over because the fire in her eyes subsides slightly.
“I think if you asked me, I would do just about anything you wanted at this point.”
“So…kiss me,” she commands, tilting her chin upwards and staring into my eyes. “Press your lips to mine and kiss me like you fucking mean it. Like I’m all that matters to you.”
“You are all that matters to me, Stassi.”
“Prove it.”
* * *
Her chin lifts in defiance and a wicked look flares in her brown eyes as I lean down and brush my lips across hers. Her tongue darts out, my guess as an attempt to slip into my open mouth but I’m not ready for that so I take a step back. “You’re not in control, Stassia.”
She whimpers slightly and closes her mouth before nodding slowly. “Sorry. I’m just…anxious.”
She’s still pressed against the door as my arms box her in on either side. I slide them down slowly—down her slim tiny body before I find her hips. I grip them through her dress wishing I could lift it and put my hands on her bare skin. I take a step closer to her, pressing my body against hers and grip her chin harder than I intended, but the moan that slips from her lips lets me know she’s fine with my mild aggression. I run my lips from her temple down her cheek and neck before moving to her chest to that delicious area of skin that has been calling out to me all night. I leave a wet open-mouthed kiss just at the base of her collarbone before lowering my mouth ever so slightly. My tongue darts out to taste her skin and I trace her bare skin delicately as she mewls beneath me.
“You wore this dress on purpose. To tease me.” My nose is pressed against her skin, smelling her sweet perfume and my hands are still gripping her hips so tightly I won’t be surprised if I’m leaving bruises through her dress. Her hands have found my biceps and she’s squeezing them equally hard as she shifts back and forth between feet. “If I lift your dress up, will your panties be soaked?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” she whimpers, assumedly as an answer to