Chapter 4 4
I must be imagining things because there’s no way I just saw what I think I did.
What a provocatively audacious girl.
Caterina isn’t as innocent as I had believed. I always thought of her as a model student with perfect grades, an early bedtime, and a rule-following nature. She seemed like the ideal sweet girl with a shy smile and a figure many men would covet.
To think I saw her as an innocent angel when she’s actually been a temptress in disguise. I can’t count how many times she’s stayed at our house or joined us on vacations, subtly enticing and provoking me from a distance.
It’s fucked up to acknowledge how many years I’ve spent reminding myself she’s my daughter’s best friend, not to mention the fact that she’s way too young to even consider touching. There have been many times over the years when those reminders are the only thing that kept me from throwing her to the floor and fucking her unconscious.
Where Caterina stands, my patience is razor thin. Sweet, beautiful Caterina with her luscious brown hair begging for my hands to sink into it. And damn, those big, innocent blue eyes, so full of kindness and sincerity. I’ve pictured them so often filled with tears that streaked her cheeks as I shoved my cock to the back of her throat, making her gag.
God, the restraint it took, the reminding myself that she’s too innocent to be tainted and defiled by a man like me. But now, none of those things matter. Before, there was a line in the sand, but now it’s been obliterated. Because there she is, sitting in my kitchen, playing with her pussy, touching her tiny clit, making herself come the same way the girl still clenched around my fingers has barely finished doing.
I know Caterina thinks I haven’t noticed how she’s looked at me before this, that I haven’t noticed her pretty blush when our eyes meet or when I occasionally catch her checking me out.
As if I could fucking miss it. As if she hasn’t commanded my attention for the last five years. There’s not a man alive who wouldn’t feel gratified by that attention, even if it’s nothing more than a fantasy that can never come to life. But I’ll be damned if we haven’t come dangerously close tonight.
Her chest heaves, and I’d bet if I looked in her eyes right now, I’d see her desire shining. Words can’t describe how fucking turned on I am, knowing she finished herself off to the sight of me finger fucking Chelsea.
When I withdraw my fingers, her pussy drips, her juices glistening against my skin. But it’s Caterina’s juices I crave. It’s Caterina I want out here with me, mewling and whimpering in the aftermath of pleasure.
And it’s enough to turn my desire into something closer to anger as I stand and pull my rock-hard cock free from my trunks. I angle myself enough to give the girl hiding in the shadows a show. I know she’s wondered about my size so many times. Is it as big as she imagined? As thick?
Yes, sweet, innocent Caterina. My cock is big enough to split you in two.
Fisting myself, I roughly stroke my thick cock and tug Chelsea upright until she’s sitting at the edge of the chair, her face level with my crotch.
“It’s your turn to make me come,” I mutter to her while really speaking to Caterina, since my gaze is still trained on the kitchen.
How fucked up is it that while I’m presently getting pleasure from someone else, all I can see is Caterina?
What a naughty girl. I imagine her tight pussy quivering all over her hand. I wonder if she’s a squirter. If she could take my entire length at once, or if she would beg me to go nice and slow, the fear of me fucking her hard enough to hurt, keeping her on the knife’s edge of pleasure and pain.
I watch her intently. She’s still there, hiding. Safe and protected by the dark. She hasn’t moved except to withdraw her hand from between her legs. What I wouldn’t give to lick her fingers clean before shoving my tongue up into her cunt, drinking up every drop of her release. I bet she tastes like honey, and I’m fucking starving.
“Mm, yeah,” Chelsea agrees before I cut her off, shoving my entire length past her glossy lips and deep into her throat. I’m not a selfish lover. I give, but I want the same pleasure when I receive. Chelsea lets out a choked groan, but it barely meets my ears. I’m too consumed by the sensation and the unbearable connection to the walking temptation still watching me.
Is this how you’d like it? Fuck. It’s not the woman sucking me that has me harder than I’ve been in my life. It’s the one in the shadows, the shy, timid one. Growling, I take Chelsea’s head in my hands, controlling every aspect of the experience.
Holding her in place, I thrust my hips into her; the head of my cock hits the back of her throat, drawing soft cries of dismay the faster I fuck her face.
In my mind, it’s Caterina’s face I’m fucking. Caterina’s pussy I still smell, thanks to the juices drying on my lips. For the first time, I’m giving in to the fantasy, allowing myself to visualize every aspect of the temptation that’s tormented me for years.
