It Runs in the Family (Haunted x Sanja)

The girl rather enjoyed the way she could press up against him and explore, grabbing and pawing about like a greedy animal that hadn’t been fed in days. Her touch was undesired, and once encouraged to release she did so with a great amount of strife. How was she supposed to earn some form of release if he’d never allow himself into the proper mood to do so? Her face bore a pout as he turned to apply a gentle kiss and she shuffled quietly to the wall.

Once instructed, her hands would rise and press gingerly against the cool stone of the shower. Even with the hot water it was still chilling, forcing goosebumps along her arms as she waited patiently for whatever came next. Paige was half reminded of her time in the stock, and for a brief moment wondered if she’d earned another spanking. The notion was a thrill, body at attention while awaiting her fate. She jumped slightly once his fingers grabbed at her shoulders, tense muscles beginning to slack as his intentions were made clear.

Her neck slumped as expert fingers worked over her small frame, the girl first beginning with gentle murmurs of pleasure which eventually escalated to small moans and languid sighs of desire. His thumbs worked wonders, back arching and fingers curling against the wall as he teased at her already needy body. His whisper earned a gasp, eyes shutting tight as she whimpered into the wall.

“You!”

Paige had no clue what it entirely meant to be owned, but she wasn’t about to start questioning specifics. If it meant he’d be bending her over and playing the way they’d been the past few hours, she was more than thrilled to sign up full time.

Him.

What a beautiful thought that was. To imagine that he owned her, to imagine that he had her. That was stunning in every way that he could express. She was so beautiful, his own perfect girl, and he had never looked at her the way he did not but he could not deny that she was everything he would have wanted in a woman. A natural born goddess. Yet it was not his way to worship in any other fashion than to take and make his, and so he kissed her shoulder...slow, soft, and then he bit. He bit down, lightly at first and then with enough suction that he would leave a mark.

Her Daddy was marking her.

That though was only the tip of the iceberg, that was the part that did not necessarily count. Because from behind, reminiscent of the evening they had come across one another in the club, her Father pressed up against her. The lather and pouring water providing ample lubrication for him to rock back and forth against her young willing flesh. His hands slid and he finally began to touch her in the way a lover would, slipping along her stomach to cup her breasts from beneath. He dug his fingers into those amazing tits, nails raking down to tug on her nipples...and then...then...

He entered her.

Her own father entered her, his cock thick and ready, pushing against her labias and splitting her open from behind. He claimed her in the most wicked of ways, the most primal, as only a man could do to a woman. That flesh stretched her wide, pushing deep...and then angling so he could thrust again. Bareback, nothing separating them, merely his flesh against hers as he rammed to the hilt in her hot, young, little cunt.