Page 14 of Her Stepbrother Master (Master Me #7)

They’d cause a scandal, even if he married her and made her his little wife, the way he’d been imagining.

Their parents would be mortified, and LuAnn’s father had the heart condition.

Bottom line—their parents would never approve, which meant if he wanted to keep LuAnn as his own, he’d be cutting ties to her closest family—and his.

“What do you think?” he asked.

Her look shone with utter vulnerability—one part pleading, one part mortification. She dropped her eyes.

“Mouse, I want to keep you as my own. I want you to be my baby girl and my wife, but I’m having a hard time reconciling what that would do to your reputation and your relationship with your father.”

Her lips parted and he watched understanding dawn.

To his shock, she pushed herself from the countertop into his arms, straddling his waist and clinging to his neck, like a child.

He laughed. “What does this mean, little mouse? You’ll have me?”

“I’ve always been yours.”

“It’s settled then,” he said against her soft hair.

“But we still have this little matter of the burned dinner to discuss.” He carried her to the Davenport where he sat her down and rotated her legs so they dangled over the arm of the sofa.

Lifting her ankles into the air, he pulled her bottom up to rest on the arm of the sofa, raised for him.

Her skirts fell away, revealing a pair of silk stockings attached to garters.

He ran his hands along her thighs. “My, you do look all grown up tonight, don’t you?”

She giggled.

“From now on, no more bobby socks and saddle shoes. I want you in heels and stockings at all times.” He slid her panties off. “But the panties are optional.”

“Dad-dee,” she said, reaching up to cover her bared bottom.

He reveled in the fact that she’d called him that without prompting, accepting her role as his baby girl.

“Now, you must clasp your hands behind your knees to hold your legs back. If you move them or drop your legs, I will give you a second spanking when this one is over for disobedience. Understand?”

She looked petrified, which shouldn’t turn him on so much. But she must have trusted him, because she obeyed. “Yes, Daddy.”

He walked to the kitchen and picked out a wooden spoon from the drawer. By the time he returned, her sex, protruding and on display between her legs, had plumped and opened, dewy moisture showing along her lips. He longed to touch her there, but discipline came first.

He brought the wooden spoon down on her right sit spot, then her left. Her bottom jerked with each one, but she stayed in position, as he’d instructed. “LuAnn, this morning you asked Daddy for money, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

He applied the spoon again, ten times in rapid succession, alternating right and left cheeks.

She mewled.

“What did you want the money for?”

“To make you a nice dinner.”

He began to spank her left sit spot, bringing the spoon down on the same spot, over and over again, until she howled in pain.

“And what happened to my dinner?”

She whimpered.

He waited.

“I burned it,” she said at last. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I was a bad girl.”

His cock went rock hard. “You were a very naughty little girl.” He applied the spoon to the right sit spot and this time she began vocalizing immediately.

“Ooh, ooh, ahhh, ow, ohhh….please, Daddy!”

He gave her pussy a light tap and she shrieked. Holding her hands to control her legs, he began to apply the spoon with real vigor, first right, then left in a relentless rhythm.

LuAnn let out a continuous scream through closed lips.

“You wasted Daddy’s money and burned our dinner on purpose. Daddy will not tolerate your fits, little girl.”

“I’m sorr-ee,” she howled.

He did not slow down or stop. “If you are upset with Daddy, you will talk to him about it, understand, little girl?”

“No fits,” she babbled frantically. “No fits, I promise. I’m so sorry. I’ll never do it again. Please, Daddy!”

He stopped and tapped her bottom with the spoon, surveying his work. Her skin had turned a dark shade of pink that promised to leave her sore the following day. “You were very naughty.”

Tears ran down from the outer corners of her eyes.

“I’m really sorry. I really am.” She looked beautiful to him.

He should not wish to see the girl he loved in such a state, but to him it was an intensely erotic sight.

And judging by the liquid freely coating her nether lips, some part of her enjoyed it as well.

“When you displease Daddy, you take it in the bottom,” he said, arriving at a decision. He wouldn’t take her virginity until they married—which they needed to do straight away—but he felt comfortable exercising anal discipline, considering she’d made her decision plain.

Her eyes rounded and her hands came unclasped.

“Whoops.” He caught one wrist. “Did I say you could let go?”

“Bra—Daddy, no,” she whined.

He began to spank her rapidly again with the spoon. “Do you need more spanking to be compliant?”

“Ooh,” she shrieked. “No, Daddy. I’m compliant.”

“That’s better,” Brad said, looking every inch the stern disciplinarian. “Stay there.” He left for the bedroom.

Thrills of fear and excitement slithered through her.

When he returned, he carried the baby oil. Brad unbuckled his belt and his cock sprang out.

Her inner thighs quivered—no, her entire body trembled. The position he’d put her in was beyond humiliating with her legs up in the air like a baby having her diaper changed, her bottom not just bared to him, but spread with her female parts protruding lewdly.

Her cheeks throbbed from the paddling with the spoon—not quite as much as the hairbrushing he’d given her that first night, but nearly so.

She stared at his manhood, a bit shocked to finally see how a man’s private parts looked. She wondered how the rest of his body looked naked. She licked her lips.

He rubbed the baby oil over his cock, then put some on his fingers and massaged it into her most private hole.

She moaned like a hussy. Her sex ached for his touch, but he had yet to pay it any attention.

“Spread your cheeks for me, little girl.”

“I—” She couldn’t believe he asked that of her. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, baby girl. Do you trust your Daddy?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered. Squeezing her eyes closed with embarrassment, she parted her cheeks.

Brad pressed the head of his manhood against her back hole. Gripping her waist, he held her immobile as he pushed against the tight ring of muscle. “Take a deep breath, sweetheart.”

She drew in air and held it.

“Now, blow it out and push back at me.”

She exhaled, but didn’t understand the second part of his instructions. Nevertheless, he breached her entrance, causing a burning sensation. She tightened against the intrusion, which only increased the ring of fire. “Oh,” she gasped.

“Relax, baby girl. Let Daddy in.”

Anxious to please, she willed her body to relax and allow his plunder.

He brought the pad of his thumb to the sensitive nub at the apex of her nether lips and rubbed. Pleasure shot through her.

He pushed in further, bringing more pleasure, mingled with the burning sensation that frightened her, but didn’t really hurt.

“Oh Daddy,” she moaned. She loved calling him Daddy —it felt so wrong and yet so right.

He filled her, moving slowly in and out, while he circled the sweet spot on her pussy.

The intensity made her frantic for release, and she thrashed her head back and forth, whimpering and babbling an incoherent plea for release. It contained many Oh’s , Ah’s and Ooh’s , culminating in a long string of “please, please, please, please, please.”

Brad vibrated his thumb over her raw pussy and her body convulsed, fireworks shooting behind her eyes.

“Oh, hell, you’re so hot, LuAnn,” Brad cried in a roughened voice and shoved deep inside her, stretching her back hole wide. He remained buried in her ass, eyes closed, his hot fluid filling her.

She knew how these things worked from hanging out with some faster girls at Sarah Wharton. She hadn’t known about females also secreting fluid, but for this part, at least, she’d been prepared.

Brad eased out of her. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” he said, running his hand over her hip with a light caress.

She didn’t want him to leave, but he returned just moments later with a warm washcloth, which he used to clean her. It embarrassed her to have him wiping her bottom like a baby, but it tweaked her, too. Her nipples grew hard again and every nerve ending tingled.

Brad picked up the throw blanket her mother had crocheted for him from the Davenport and wrapped her in it, settling her on the sofa in a more comfortable position. “I’m going to see what I can salvage of dinner, sweets.”

“I’ll do it. It’s my fault.” She jumped to her feet.

He gently pushed her back down. “Daddy will do it. I want my baby girl to rest.”

Warmth slid down her chest like a sip of hot cocoa on a winter’s night. Being cared for this way made her feel so important, so special. She soaked up Brad’s attentions like a sponge.

Brad returned a few minutes later and scooped her into his arms, blanket and all.

He carried her to the kitchen, where he sat in a chair at the table and settled her in his lap.

He’d made one plate of food and he fed her from it with his fingers, pulling bits of meat from the overcooked chicken and slipping them between her lips.

She ate what he fed her and sighed, beyond content. The throbbing in her bottom and back-hole only served as a pleasant reminder of being utterly claimed by Brad. He planned to make her his wife. She could scarcely believe it—all her teenage fantasies come to fruition.

Brad spent the night on the couch again, determined not to take LuAnn’s virginity before he made her his bride. Of course, he’d more than taken her innocence already, but it seemed important to leave the last act for consummating their marriage.