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Daddy's Girl [ Erotica Forbidden Romance]
This book contains raw contents. Read with caution. R18+
Stéphane had never desired Aleen; she was off-limits as his wife's daughter, Christine. But something about her captivated and locked him in, igniting his appetite and desire for her.
Stéphane knew he should keep his distance; he shouldn't have any longing for his stepdaughter.
He shouldn't want to know how she tastes or long to feel her tightness wrapped around him as he buried himself deep inside her.
However, all resolve to resist was shattered when Aleen boldly made the first move, bringing Stéphane to his knees and causing him to taste the forbidden when she called him 'Daddy'.
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Chapter 2
My body froze, blood roaring in my ears. I must be hallucinating, or maybe I'd gone crazy to even think I had just voiced my secret fantasy out loud, with everyone in the apartment potentially hearing.
My tiny fingers lingered on my pussy as I stopped and listened, straining to see if it wasn't me. And then, there it was.... the moans I'd just heard in my fantasy were actually real.
I felt my pulse jump like lightning in my chest. It's not coming from me like I had thought. It's actually coming from...
"Oh God! Yes! Fuck me harder, Chase!"
A familiar feminine voice. Oh my fucking God.
The sound was coming from my step-uncle room directly opposite mine. I whirled toward the view from my bedroom door. My heart clenched with excitement and something darker, as I stood at the entrance of my room and took in the scene before me.
I gasped and brought my hand quickly to my mouth as I stared, I almost couldn't believe what I saw a few feet away from me! My stepuncle, in all his naked glory was fucking his wife hard from behind.
He's fucking her like an animal. Hard, strong and powerful.
His body glistened with sweat under the soft bedroom light. He grunted, his strong muscles flexing as he pounded his cock into his wife, who leaned over the makeup table. The rhythm, the power in his movements, it was all intoxicating.
At first, my chest ached with a pang of envy. Watching the man of my fantasies fuck another woman so recklessly, it made something inside me twist and sink. They had no idea I was watching. I believe they thought i had slept off. The door was open simply because of the summer heat, not for my benefit, but I couldn't look away.
It felt wrong to be jealous. He was her husband. That's what husbands do to their wives. Hell! that's what couples do. I shouldn't even bother about the way he pounded her cunt with reckless abandon. Every thrust from him, every slap of skin, made my body tremble and thrum with desire and a sick twist of envy.
I gasped softly as his strong hands gripped her hips harshly, pulling her toward him. The sounds of their bodies slapping together, the moans and grunts, made my skin hum with arousal. I pressed my hand to my mouth, trying to quiet the gasps that threatened to escape.
And yet, the more I watched, the more mesmerized I became. His muscles rippled, glistening in the light. His wife's body responded to him completely, her chest pressed to the table, her hips rising and falling in perfect rhythm with his thrusts.
A wicked part of me imagined it was me instead of her, bent over that table with stepuncle holding my hips and pounding me full of his cock. But that didn't mean I couldn't be totally turned on and dripping wet just watching it happen right in front of me.
I could see his wife, her chest pressed on the makeup table, her ass raised upward, receiving every hard and long thrusts from him.
And before I knew it, the burning desire from earlier that I'd stopped came rushing back. I moaned as I felt my pussy throb inside my panties as my arousal quickly began to dampen the inside of them while I watched the couple.
I quietly widen the door to my room, turned off the lights and sat on the reading table, peering directly to my hunky stepuncle in their bedroom, fucking his wife and letting the sounds of their love-making wash over me as I eagerly pushed down my panties, parted my legs open and slid my fingers wetly over my tight little pussy.
I could see his wife's face scrunched up with passion as her gorgeous husband gripped her tightly by the hips and pushed into her again and again. Her breasts were much larger than my small little cups, and they swayed heavily beneath her as my stepuncle hands gripped her ass tightly and fucked her with deep strokes.
I watched the way he slid out of her, the way she turned around and rested on the table, her legs parted and wrapped around his waist as he plunged into her pussy again. I watched as he kept pounding her cunt, his cook deep and firmly buried inside her. His strong hands gripped her breasts.
I could only see his thick balls. I could hear the sweaty slaps of their skin. I gasped as he turned her around again until she's resting her elbow on the table again as he entered her from behind once more.
His glistening chest rippled under their bedroom light, and I moaned into my hand as the fingers from my other slipped into my tight channel, imaging it was his cock pushing into me from behind.
I was rubbing my clit with my thumb as two of my fingers rhythmically pushed in and out of my wet slit, trying to time my stroking in tune with my uncle thrusting across the room.
I'd been close as I rested my back on the wall, my eyes glued to the scene in front of me. And as I masturbated right there, hiding in my bedroom and watching them making love, I could already feel myself close to coming.
I started to finger my pussy harder and harder as my uncle pace picked up as well. I could see his jaw gritting tightly and the heavy concentration in his eyes as he rocked his hips back and forth.
"Oh fuck! yes baby!" i heard her cry out. " Come inside my womb!"
Like a rocket that did it for both of us. I bit my hand hard as my own orgasm began to clench and ripple through me, but I forced myself to keep my eyes open and watch as my uncle's face did the same.
He let out a heavy grunt, and with a final, powerful thrust, he slammed forward into his wife. He groaned, and I knew he was coming right along with me! My own body clenched and convulsed, my tight pussy seizing up around my fingers as I bit my hand hard trying not to scream as I came.
As I came down, I suddenly gasped again as my stepuncle slipped wetly out of his wife, and his thick, throbbing, glistening cock bobbed into view. Still hard, long, and veiny. I could see the cum dripping down. I could see the little throbbings of his magnificent cock.
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7.1
I was eight months pregnant, waiting on the sofa for my billionaire husband to come home.
But when the heavy oak doors opened, Cayden threw a fake DNA test on the glass table, showing a zero percent probability of paternity.
He accused me of carrying another man's bastard. I cried and begged, swearing I was framed by his childhood friend, Carmella. He didn't listen. Instead, he ordered his massive bodyguards to pin me down while a private doctor forced an abortion pill down my throat.
"The Merritt family does not raise bastards. Get rid of it."
He forced me to sign divorce papers and ordered his men to throw me out into the freezing storm. Before I was dragged away, I desperately told him the truth: I was the anonymous donor who gave him a kidney to save his life three years ago.
He just sneered, saying Carmella had the surgical scar to prove she was the donor, and kicked me out to die.
Lying in the freezing rain, vomiting up the half-dissolved poison to save my baby, I didn't understand how the man I loved could be so completely blind. How could he let that woman steal my kidney, my marriage, and murder his own flesh and blood?
Five years later, I returned to New York not as his pathetic discarded wife, but as a top-tier medical fixer for the global elite.
And my genius five-year-old son has already infiltrated his mansion, ready to tear his empire apart from the inside.

9.2
Johnny Simmons thrives on competition-whether in the pool, in playful bets, or in charming his way through life. He's used to being in control, but when Jane Shepperd enters his world, she proves to be an unexpected challenge.
Assigned to his study group, Jane is sharp, unfiltered, and unimpressed by his usual charm. Their first real interaction is filled with witty banter, subtle tension, and a clash of personalities that leaves Johnny both frustrated and intrigued.

9.2
The camera flashes felt like a firing squad, dragging me back to the night I lost my baby five years ago. My husband, Faron, sat in the front row, his hand on his mistress Kassie’s thigh, utterly ignoring my public humiliation. This was the thirtieth time he’d made me a joke, and it would be the last.
For three years, I played the dutiful Blackwell wife, shielding Faron from his endless affairs.
At a press conference, a reporter’s question about his yacht booking with Kassie shattered my facade. Faron, smiling at his mistress, completely ignored me. The last filter I viewed him through instantly shattered.
Later, Kassie deliberately spilled champagne on me at a gala. Faron, instead of helping, tenderly wiped it from her.
She hissed, "Faron said you just lay there. Fucking you is like fucking a dead fish."
This venomous taunt, after thirty public betrayals, snapped my sanity.
Chained by my mother-in-law's threats, my pain was expected. My silence demanded. But I was finally done.
With a cold, empty void, I slammed the folder shut. I dropped the family crest.
"Have a wonderful evening, Faron," I said, turning and walking out. I left him and his suffocating charade behind.

9.5
I was the heiress to a real estate empire, celebrating my engagement to Douglas at our Manhattan penthouse.
But when I stepped into the master bedroom, I caught him sleeping with my best friend, Krystle.
Before I could even react, Douglas forced me to sign away my family's entire trust fund.
He held up a tablet and forced me to watch a live feed of my parents being burned alive in our Hamptons estate.
"The fire hasn't reached the main house yet, sign it and I'll call them off," he lied.
As soon as the ink dried, he beat me to the ground and locked me in the soundproof study.
He poured twenty-three-year-old whiskey on the carpet and dropped a lit cigar.
"You could have walked away with nothing, but alive," he sneered.
He left me to burn to death while he and Krystle went back to our engagement party to drink champagne.
As the flames melted my skin and my bones shattered against the bulletproof glass, I couldn't understand it.
How could the man who promised me forever brutally exterminate my entire family just for money?
But I didn't die in that fire.
Three years later, with a reconstructed face and a new identity as the mysterious global designer Alice Moreau, I returned to New York.
Watching Douglas and Krystle flaunt the wealth they stole from my family's ashes, I smiled behind my black veil.
It was time to make them pay with everything they had.

8.9
"Are you sure, Jake? I can be a very bad girl," I purred sexily, brushing my hands lightly over his pants. He stiffened and grabbed my hands.
"Bad girls get punished," He snarled.
"Would you like to punish me then?"
** ** **
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7.1
To save my family from ruin, I remarried my billionaire ex-husband, Jaxon Lowe. He held my late mother' s locket hostage, forcing me back into a gilded cage where I endured his cold contempt and his very public affair. I played the part of the silent, obedient wife he demanded, building a wall of ice around my heart just to survive.
But my obedience didn't protect me. He abandoned me in a torrential downpour to rescue his mistress, Ivory.
Then, he broke his one promise. He let Ivory have my mother's locket pulled from auction, the very reason for my sacrifice, simply because she found it "unlucky."
That final betrayal led me straight into the hands of his business rival, where I was tortured and left for dead.
But I survived.
Four months later, Jaxon found me. He stood before me, tears streaming down his face, holding the now-repaired locket and begging for forgiveness.
I took back what was mine.
"I want a divorce," I said, my voice calm and final. "And I never want to see you again."