My father thought I was innocent. In his eyes I was still the little girl who called him daddy and hung on his every word. He still saw me as the little girl who wore denim overalls with my hair pulled up in pigtails. He still saw me as the five year old girl who climbed on his lap and whispered through my missing front teeth that I loved him. He was a fool if he thought I was still that little girl.
I grew up. My body started changing and with it, so did my personality. I still loved my father but I knew enough to know that his words weren't the law anymore and sometimes, he just made shit up. My body grew leaner, curvier. More voluptuous, even. I had turned into a woman. A woman who found herself in the middle of a forbidden affair.
I'm not really sure when it started. Sometime around my eighteenth birthday, I guess. I was spending the weekend over at my best friend's house because my father was out of town on business. It was late, already past midnight, and I couldn't sleep. I walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water when I saw him sitting at the small breakfast table. I was startled at first but he smiled and I relaxed.
"I didn't mean to scare you," he said, smiling.
"You didn't," I muttered. I went over and filled a glass with water.
"Trouble sleeping?" he asked, moving over and standing next to me. Right next to me.
"Not very tired, I guess," I said, quietly. He nodded his head as he turned and looked at me.
"Tell me, do you have a boyfriend?" he asked. I quickly shook my head no. "Why not?"
"Nobody's asked me, I guess," I muttered, feeling my blush creep up onto my cheeks. He laughed quietly as he leaned in so close that his lips were right outside my ear.
"Good," he whispered. "They don't deserve you, Beautiful."
I gasped as his lips brushed across my cheek and he strode out of the room. I set my glass in the sink and went back upstairs, climbing into my bed in the guest room. I tried to sleep but all I could think of was the way his breath felt on my skin, his lips grazing over my cheek and I felt myself get wet just thinking about him.
By the next morning, I was exhausted and incredibly horny. I stumbled downstairs to the kitchen and found everyone sitting around the table, eating breakfast. I looked right at him but he didn't look at me. He sat there reading the paper, like nothing had happened last night. I settled down at the table and tried to eat but I wasn't very hungry.
For the next month, I tried not to think about that night in the kitchen. I went to school and focused on my grades. I went out with my friends and I even went out on a few dates. On the outside, I was still the same person I had been four weeks prior but on the inside, I was a woman who craved his touch. During the night, I would wake up from dreams of him touching me, caressing me. I would imagine that they were his fingers creeping into my white cotton panties instead of my own. I was going crazy.
Then my father told me that I was spending another weekend with my friend's family because he was going out of town again. Part of me was scared and wanted to tell him no, that I could stay home alone. The other part of me was thrilled, excited even. That part won the internal battle I was having with myself and I told my father I would go. I went upstairs, packed my bag, and let him drive me over there.
For most of the first day, everything seemed to be normal. My friend and I spent the afternoon painting our toenails and gossiping about boys. We sat at the dinner table and told her parents and brothers about the art project that we were doing for school. We stayed up late in the night, talking about the new boy in class that she was crushing on. She finally got tired and went to her room and fell asleep. I crept out of the guest room and down the stairs as quietly as I could.
I walked into the kitchen, hoping to find him there but I was disappointed when I found the kitchen empty. I headed back to the stairs to go back to bed but froze when I saw him leaning against the railing. He had small smile on his face and a sparkle in his eye. He gave me the once over and I cursed myself for wearing my ratty pajamas.
"Can't sleep again?" he asked. I shook my head, unable to find my voice. "Hmm, maybe you should see a doctor."
"Maybe," I whispered. He laughed as he pushed off the banister and moved so that he was standing behind me. I felt the warmth of his breath as he leaned in to me.
"Something bothering you, Beautiful?" he asked.
"No," I whimpered. He moved his hands to my hips, pulling against his body. I could feel all of him and I do mean all of him. "Oh my…"
"Tell me, Beautiful," he whispered, pressing his lips against my ear again. My knees felt like they were going to buckle at any moment. "All those boys you've been going out with, do they make you wet?"
"No," I gasped.
"Good," he whispered, pulling my earlobe into his mouth. My eyes rolled into the back of my head and my panties dampened. "I don't want you going out with any of them anymore. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," I breathed.
"Yes, what?" he asked, grinding himself against me again.
"Yes, sir," I cried.
"Good girl." I felt his lips curve into a smile. "Wear more skirts."
With that he let go of my hips and walked back upstairs, leaving me standing there. I wasn't sure what the hell had just happened but I knew that I liked it. That I wanted more. I wrapped my arms around my body as I, once again, shuffled my way back upstairs to the guest room and climbed into my bed, and thought about the way his hands felt on my body.
The next morning went just as the one did a month before. I sat in the kitchen and tried to eat the food in front of me while he sat across the table from me, ignoring me or the fact that he had left me aching with need last night. For the rest of the weekend, he ignored me. When my father came and picked me up, he smiled and told my father that I was welcome to stay with them anytime.
I found myself back inside that house two weeks later. This time my father was there and we were celebrating the end of school and our graduation from high school. Everyone was out in the backyard, laughing and talking about future plans. I could hear my father proudly telling anyone who would listen about how his daughter had gotten into Yale.
I was standing in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water when the back door to the house opened. I didn't need to look back to know who it was. I could feel him standing behind me. Before I had a chance to look back, he was pressed against me. I started to speak but he stopped me by placing his lips against my ear.
"Don't speak," he murmured. "Don't make a sound."
I couldn't have spoken if I had tried. He slipped his hand down to my thigh and slowly ran it up my bare leg, dipping under the skirt I was wearing. The skirt I was wearing for him, because he had told me to wear it.
"I like you in skirts, beautiful," he whispered. "Makes it easy to touch you."
My head fell back onto his shoulder as I stifled the moan that desperately wanted to leave my lips but he had told me not to make a sound. His fingers trailed along the edge of my white cotton panties, inching closer and closer to where I wanted him the most. I clamped my lips together as tightly as I could when his finger slipped inside of the flimsy elastic and brushed against my wet folds.
"Someone is excited," he murmured, nipping at my neck. "Am I making you this wet, Beautiful?"
I so badly wanted to answer him but he told me not to speak and I was afraid that he would stop if I said anything. So instead, I just stood there, panting with want and need. Silently begging him to do naughty things to me. He sighed and pulled his fingers from my panties and let my skirt drop as he stepped away from me. I spun around and looked at him as he walked out of the house, shutting the backdoor behind him. What the fuck had just happened? One minute he had his finger inside my panties, rubbing on me, and the next, he's gone.
I walked outside and saw him standing next my father at the grill. They were laughing about something. He looked right at me, brought his finger into his mouth, and smiled before turning his attention back to my father. That fucking bastard knew exactly what he was doing to me and, not only that, but he was enjoying every damn minute of it. God help me, so was I.
As the afternoon wore on, I tried to stay as far away from him as I could but I could feel him watching me. Always watching me. I tried to act normal. I laughed when someone made a joke, even when they weren't funny. I smiled and I may have even flirted a little, but my heart wasn't in it. My heart was trapped with him and I wasn't sure I wanted it back.
Just after three in the afternoon, father left after being called in to work. He told me he would likely be out all night and I should just spend the night there. I wanted to protest but I looked over at him. He was standing by the grill, watching me with a smile playing on his lips. I took a deep breath as I looked away. I agreed and my father left. God help me for wanting him so badly. I was certainly going straight to hell.
That night, I told myself not to go down there. I knew he would be there, waiting for me. After a few hours of laying there, rubbing my legs together and wishing he was touching me, I climbed out of my bed, straightened the white cotton nightgown I had borrowed, and left my room. The house was eerily quiet as I padded down the stairs, across the living room, and into the kitchen.
Just as I knew he would, he was sitting at the breakfast table. He had his legs crossed at the ankles and his hands resting on his stomach. Etched on his face was the biggest smirk I had ever seen. I wanted to scream at him to stop smirking like the smug bastard he was but I couldn't. Instead, I stood there and waited for him to tell me what to do.
"Come here," he said.
My legs started moving on their own and before I knew it, I was standing in front of him. I just stood there, unsure if I was supposed to say anything or not. He stood up and brought his hand up to my face, caressing my cheek. I automatically leaned into his hand, inwardly cursing myself for being so weak around him.
"Turn around," he murmured.
I did as he said and turned so that my back was facing him. He brought one arm up around my waist, pulling me back into him, while his other hand was traveling up my thigh again. His hand pulled the nightgown up and he slipped his hand into the front of my panties. I could feel his breath on my neck as he slipped his hand further down and cupped my wet sex. My head fell back onto his shoulder as I panted.
"You are still so wet, Beautiful." he murmured. He slipped his hand out of my panties and brought his fingers up to my lips. "Taste."
Before I even knew what I was doing, I snaked my tongue out and wrapped it around his finger. I could taste myself and it wasn't as disgusting as I thought it would be. He moaned quietly and pressed his hard cock into my backside. Inwardly, I was smirking at the effect I had on him but outwardly, I just stood there.
"Bend over," he hissed into my ear.
I automatically followed his command. He pushed me down even further until my upper body was laying flat down on the table. My breasts were mashed against the solid oak table and my ass was sticking out, waiting for him to touch me. He pushed my nightgown up over my hips and grabbed the sides of my little white panties.
Roughly, he pulled them down my legs, leaving them at my knees. I was nearly dripping with need as I felt his hand brushing over the curves of my ass. He nudged my legs even further apart and I has no choice but to spread myself open for him. His breath was ragged as he slipped his arm around me and pushed two fingers into my wet heat. I wanted to cry out, to beg him for more but I just laid there.
"Let me hear you," he murmured. He shifted his fingers in and out of me again. "Does this feel good, Beautiful?
"Yes," I whispered, not trusting my voice above a whisper.
I felt him shift behind me and a moment later his hand left my hip. There was a soft swoosh as his pajama pants dropped to the floor. He was still moving his fingers in and out of me as I felt him rub his hard cock over the curves of my ass. He didn't say anything he started jerking off against me, letting his cock rub against me.
The hand he was using on his cock was matching the pace of the fingers he had inside of me. I could already feel my orgasm starting to build as he let the palm of his hand rub against my swollen nub over and over again. He was panting, grunting as he worked his hand over his swollen cock.
"Oh fuck, Beautiful," he muttered. "Tell me you're close."
"So close," I murmured, nearly begging him to keep going.
He started slamming his fingers in and out of me, pulling me back into him with each thrust of his hand. I could feel his knuckles rubbing along the crevasse of my backside, faster with each pump of his hand. Just as my walls clenched down on his fingers, he moaned and released on my ass.
He slipped his fingers out of me, pulled up his pants, and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me bent over the breakfast table with his release sliding down my backside. I had never been more turned on or confused in my life. I quickly got myself cleaned up and took the time to scrub the table as thoroughly as I could before heading back upstairs to the guest room. What the hell had just happened?
The following morning, he acted like he had every other time that I had been there. He sat across the table from me, reading his damn newspaper while I sat there wishing, wanting, needing his attention and hating myself for it. Finally I had enough and I slammed my fork onto the table, causing everyone to look up at me. His eyes widen just slightly as I turned and stormed out of the kitchen and the house. I was the fucking fool.
I wrapped my arms around myself as I walked down the street, fighting off the tears of rejection and humiliation. Why did I let him do that to me? Why did I want him to do that to me? Why did I feel the need to let him do that to me? It was wrong on so many levels but I wanted him so much. Was I just as guilty as he was for all of this?
"Where the hell do you think you are going?" he hissed, climbing out of his car. I ignored him as I kept walking. He came over to me and grabbed my arm, stopping me before I could take another step. "Get in the fucking car."
"No," I muttered, harshly as a tear slipped down my face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"Get in the car," he said, again. This time his voice was much softer, kinder but I just stood there. He brought his hand up to my face. "Please, Beautiful, get in the car."
I pulled away from his hand and climbed into the car. For a moment he just stood there in the middle of the street, like he was fighting with himself. He ran his hands through his hair as he came over and climbed in behind the wheel. He shifted the car into drive but didn't head back to his house. Neither one of said anything as he drove us though town, past the city limit sign, and onto the highway. In fact, he didn't say anything as he drove us straight into Seattle and neither did I.
Honestly, I wasn't sure what to say to him. Sure, I felt this need to be with him, close to him but why did I feel like that? It wasn't rational to want him, to need him the way I did. And, God help me, I did want him. I needed him, yearned for him to take me, touch me, love me the way I loved him. I knew in that moment that I did love him and that only made it hurt that much more.
I looked out the window as he pulled up in front of a hotel. He didn't say anything as he cut the engine and climbed out of the car. I couldn't look at him. All I could do was stare out the window. A few minutes later, his door opened and he climbed back into the car. He pulled to the back of the hotel and parked the car outside the back entrance. He cut the engine but didn't climb out immediately.
"Will you come up with me?" he asked.
"I…" I trailed off, shaking my head. "Yes."
I wasn't sure why I agreed to go up to the room he had just gotten as I climbed out of the car. All I was doing was asking for more heartache, more hurt, but I couldn't have said no, even if I wanted to. He already had me and there was nothing I could do about it. I followed him inside and over to the elevator.
As the doors closed, I leaned against the wall behind me. He was standing on the opposite side of me, like he was afraid to come any closer to me. We just stared at each other as the elevator lifted us up. His Icy blue eyes were burning into me and it was taking every bit of my control not to look away. The doors opened and I took a shaky breath as I stepped out. He led me down the hallway. He inserted the keycard into the reader and pushed the door open.
I stepped into the room, feeling like I this was the moment that was going break me. Maybe it was. The door shut behind me and I turned back and looked at him. He was leaning against the door like he wasn't sure what to do now that he had me here. Maybe he didn't. I turned away from him and moved over and sat on the edge of the large, king-sized bed. My heart felt like it was going to break out of my chest.
"I…" he started but trailed off. I looked up at him. He was staring at me. "This is so fucking wrong. I'm not supposed to want you."
"I know," I muttered, looking at the floor.
"But I fucking want you so bad," he groaned, sliding to the floor. I looked back over at him. He was leaning against the door with his hands in his hair. "You flaunt yourself in front of me and it takes every bit of my control not to take you."
"You can have me," I whispered. He snapped his eyes to me.
"No, I can't," he snapped. "You're a child."
"I'm eighteen," I argued.
"Still a child," he countered. I shook my head and looked away. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to…"
"You just…" I trailed off as my eyes filled up with tears.
"I what?" he asked, crawling on the floor to me. He turned my face to look down at him. "Talk to me, Beautiful."
"You tease me," I murmured. "You touch me and leave me wanting more. You can't do that. It's not fair."
"Don't you think I want to give you more?" he asked, pleading with me. I shook my head. He grabbed my hand and pulled it down to his crotch, right over the hard bulge that was filling his pants. "You make me hard like this, only you."
"Not just me," I whispered, shaking my head.
"Only you," he repeated, letting my hand go. I knew I should move it off his cock but I couldn't stop touching him. I started stroking him through his slacks. "That feels so good."
I took a deep breath as I released him and moved my hand to his belt. His breath caught as I undid it and moved to the button. I slowly lowered the zipper and dipped my hand inside. His head fell forward onto my shoulder as I stroked him through his silk boxers. He was already very hard and growing harder with every stroke of my hand.
"Sit on the bed," I whispered.
He looked up at me for a moment before he stood up. His pants pooled at his ankles. He sat on the edge of the bed and I slid down to the floor in front of him. I pulled off his shoes and socks, followed by his pants. I sat up on my knees and reached for the band of his black boxers. He didn't make a sound as he lifted his hips up and let me pull them down. I tossed them to the side and wrapped my hand around his shaft.
"Oh, holy fuck," he gasped.
I looked up at him as I pumped him a few times, causing him to moan. Keeping my eyes locked on his, I lowered my mouth down and sucked the tip of his cock in. His hand flew off the bed and wound itself in my hair, fisting my dark locks. I slid him into my mouth, fitting as much as I could before pulling back. As I bobbed up and down on him, he was grunting and groaned. His hand tightened on my hair. All that did was spur me on.
I quickened my pace, sucking on his tasty cock harder. He was shifting his hips up, pushing his cock a little deeper into my throat with every thrust. I placed my hands on his thighs and let him control me. He had both hands on my head, pushing me down as he pushed his hips up. My panties were beyond soaked and I was aching with need.
"Oh, fuck," he panted, tightening his grip on my hair even more. "I'm fucking gonna cum."
He tried to push me off of him but I pushed his hands away and took him down my throat again. His hips jerked and his cock started to spasm as he released down my throat. I swallowed every drop that poured out of him, sucking on the tip before I released him from my mouth. He sat there for a split second, just staring at me with wide eyes. I was starting to think he regretted letting me do that to him but then he grabbed my arms and pulled me onto the bed. He moved so that he was straddling my thighs. He ripped off his shirt, leaving him completely naked before me. I ogled him as I took in his firm, toned body.
"Do you have any idea what that does to me?" he asked. I snapped my eyes up at him. "When you look at me like that?"
"No," I said, quietly. "Tell me."
"It drives me fucking insane," he growled. He leaned down, placing his hands on either side of my head. "Tell me to stop."
"No," I whispered, shaking my head.
"Fucking tell me not to want you, Bella," he begged.
"Want me, take me," I cried, bringing my hands up to his face. "Please, make me yours."
"I'm going to hell," he muttered, dropping his forehead down onto my shoulder. "Straight to fucking hell for doing this."
He turned his head and started peppering kisses down my neck. I moaned and arched my neck, giving him access to me. His lips were burning my skin as he moved down to my collar bone and even further down to my cleavage that was pushing out of the top of my sundress. He looked up at me as he started popping the button on my blue and white dress, letting his fingers graze over my heated skin.
One by one he slowly undid my dress, exposing my young body to him. Once he had the last of them done, he pulled apart the panels and took in my near naked body. Near naked because I was not wearing a bra, only a pair of skimpy white satin panties. I leaned up so that he could removed the dress, sliding it down my arms at an agonizingly slow pace.
He threw it to the floor with his clothes and I laid back on the bed. He licked his lips as he leaned down and sucked one of my hardened nipples into his mouth. My back arched off the bed, forcing more of my breast into his mouth. He reached up and pushed my shoulders back down on the bed, holding me down as he continued to suckle on me.
He released my nipple and moved to the other one, worshiping it the way he had the other one. I was already on the verge of my climax and he had barely started touching me at all. He pulled away from my nipple and started suckling his way down my stomach, nipping at my skin. He removed his hands from my shoulders and brought them down to the sides of my panties. His eyes caught mine as he slowly slid them down my legs, letting them fall to the floor with the rest of our clothes.
"Bella," he murmured, shaking his head as he looked over my body. "You are so fucking beautiful."
"Please," I begged.
"What do you want?" he asked, smiling.
"You," I whimpered. "Please, just you."
"You fucking have me," he whispered, looking me right in the eye. "You own me."
Before I could respond, he lowered his mouth onto me. All I could do was moan as he tasted me for the first time. Not even in my wildest dreams did he feel this good between my legs. He pushed his fingers into me, spreading my lips apart. He snaked his tongue into me and I nearly came off the bed. He was so fucking amazing. He may have thought that I owned him but in the moment, I knew he owned me. All of me.
"So…close," I cried, grabbing the blanket on the bed. "So fucking close."
Without warning, he sprang up and slid his cock into me, filling me to the hilt in one move. My entire body exploded in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Pleasure from the orgasm that rage through me and pain from the ripping away of my virginity. He paused and wiped off the tears that fell from my eyes.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm so sorry."
"More," I cried, wrapping my arms around him. "I want more."
"Bella," he whispered, leaning his forehead down onto mine.
"I want more, Carlisle," I begged him. "I'm yours."
"Just mine," he mumbled. "All mine."
"All yours," I whispered.
Carlisle slowly pulled back and pushed back in. It still hurt but not as bad as it did the first time. I wrapped my legs around the back of his as he thrust in and out of me, slowly quickening his pace. With each thrust, the pain lessened and was replaced by pleasure. Carlisle leaned in and captured my lips with his as he made love to me.
He slid his hand down and hitched my leg up on his hip, deepening his thrusts inside of me. Carlisle moaned as my tongue eagerly invaded his mouth. I could already feel my orgasm building again as his thrusts became more and more frantic and needy. I slid my hands up to his honey blond hair, twisting his locks in my fingers as my walls clenched down on him.
"Oh, fuck, Carlisle!" I cried, ripping my mouth from his. He slammed his hips into mine once more before he stilled and emptied himself into me.
"Bella," he moaned, dropping his head into my shoulder. "Oh, sweet Bella, I love you."
"I love you, too, Carlisle," I whispered.
Carlisle rolled off of me but pulled me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me. As I laid there with my head resting on his chest, I didn't think about the fact that he was married to Esme or that he was Alice's father. I didn't think about the fact that Edward and Emmett would be furious if they knew that their father was having an affair with their sister's best friend. I didn't think about the fact that I had just made love to my father's best friend, either. Charlie still thought I was innocent.