Forbidden Temptation：Daddy's Secret Obsession - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

My stomach drops as he suddenly pulls away, putting cold distance between us.
Why did I have to open my stupid mouth and ruin the most incredible moment of my life?
Why couldn't I just shut up and let it happen?
I scramble to my feet, fingers clutching at his jeans as he stands, hastily yanking them back up while he fastens the button.
"Please, Nathaniel," I whisper, my voice shaking. "I know it's been so long for you. Let me take care of you."
"Jesus Christ!" He drags his hands through his hair, his face twisted in torment. "This can't be happening. You can't say things like that to me!"
The self-loathing in his voice guts me.
I grab his wrists, forcing his hands away from his hair. "If you're damned, then so am I," I choke out. "I started this."
"No. This is on me." His jaw clenches. "You're innocent—just trying to make me happy. But I'm the one who let it go this far."
He stumbles back toward the door, tucking his shirt in with jerky movements. "I should leave. We'll pretend this never happened. Go back to normal."
But I can't.
I can't go back to how things were before—him, exhausted and closed off, me, selfish and clueless.
I don't want that version of us anymore.
"There's nothing innocent about what I want from you," I say, yanking my tank top over my head in one quick motion.
"Stop!" His voice cracks as I unhook my bra, letting it slide down my arms.
His hands fist at his sides, his gaze burning over my bare skin. My breasts are fuller than Victoria's—something past lovers loved.
I hope Nathaniel will too.
I cup them, swaying slightly, and his groan is raw, his fingers digging into his thighs.
I step forward.
He steps back.
We keep up this dance until his back hits the doorframe.
I guide his hands to my breasts, mine slipping between us to stroke the hard outline in his jeans.
When his fingers brush my nipple, I gasp, arching into his touch.
"God, yes—Daddy, please—"
"No!" He shoves me away, harder than he meant to.
I stumble, my foot catching on one of Victoria's abandoned boxes. The corner of the bed rams into my spine as I fall, pain exploding through me.
A sob tears from my throat as I curl onto my stomach.
I ruined it.
Again.
Then his arms are around me, lifting me gently onto the bed.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to hurt you." His voice is wrecked, his hands shaking as he hovers over me. "Show me where it hurts."
I bury my face in the pillow—still smelling like Victoria's dry shampoo—before shoving it away.
She won't miss it.
I point to the throbbing spot on my back, tears soaking the sheets.
His lips graze my skin, featherlight, tracing the bruise forming there. His weight dips the mattress as he kneels over me, his breath hot against my spine.
"Sorry," he murmurs between kisses.
The pain fades with each press of his mouth, his lips trailing lower…lower…until they hover just above the waistband of my shorts.
His breath fans over my skin, sending shivers through me.
I stay quiet, terrified of ruining this too.
"Does it hurt anywhere else?" His voice is rough, strained.
I glance over my shoulder.
The hunger in his hazel eyes is scorching.
He traces my hip. "Here?"
I shake my head.
His hand slides under me, fingers pressing into my stomach. "Here?"
Another shake.
A shaky exhale, then his fingertips slip beneath my waistband as I lift my hips slightly.
"Here?"
I whimper, nodding.
His curse is guttural.
In one motion, he unbuttons my shorts, peeling them and my panties down my legs.
I brace for rejection.
Instead, he turns me toward the bed, his hands molding over my breasts from behind.
His lips find my neck as I arch into his touch.
"Bend over," he rasps.
I obey, pressing my chest to the mattress.
His jeans scrape my thighs as he steps closer. His lips trail down my spine, his hands gripping my hips.
Then his mouth is on my ass, kissing, nipping.
I moan when he spreads me, his tongue brushing my core.
"Arch your back," he orders.
I do, gripping the sheets as his tongue delves deeper, his fingers finding my clit.
Pleasure coils tight, my thighs shaking.
"Daddy—yes!"
The words burst from me as I shatter, his mouth working me through the waves.
Then—cold realization.
I said it again.
Before I can panic, his hands are on my hips, his cock pressing against me.
I gasp as he pushes in, pain and pleasure colliding.
"You're a virgin?" His voice is stunned, horrified.
I can't answer.
The world narrows to the stretch, the heat, the line we've just crossed—one we can never uncross.