I slip my hand beneath her skirt and rub my finger back and forth over her slit through her underwear.
Lolita’s eyes close involuntarily, and her head tips back. “You don’t…make me feel like he does.”
I hook a finger beneath her underwear and slide it through her soaking wet pussy. I find her core, and drive myself two knuckles deep inside of her. Her mouth opens silently. So much for screaming for help.
“Spread your legs, mi niñita.”
And to my delight, Lolita does what daddy tells her to do and walks her feet open. I slip another finger into her pussy and finger fuck her hard while she grips the edge of the counter with both hands, her lips parted and eyes hazy with shocked lust. She’s looking upon my face. My face. No mask. No blindfold over her eyes. She’s letting her stepdaddy pound his fingers into her sex while Mama’s out there drinking wine. What a filthy little girl I have. How I adore her.
Then Lolita does a very odd thing. She lifts her hand and holds it up before my eyes. She stays that way for several long moments. Then she drops her hand with a gasp and shoves me away.
She covers her breasts and pulls her skirt down, and runs away down the corridor as fast as she can.
“To us, Zacarias.” Valeria holds out her wine to me, as dark as blood in the crystal glass. Her nails are blood red, too, and sharpened to points.
I stare at the raised glass a moment, and then tap my glass against hers and put it down again without bothering to take a sip. I’ve lost my appetite for everything.
I glance at Lolita’s empty place at the dinner table, and the hand in my lap clenches on my napkin. I haven’t seen her since the incident in the kitchen last night. I want to punish her for this. My cock thickens in my pants as I wonder, belt or bare hand? I imagine catching her in some quiet corner of the castillo and tanning her ass until till she’s sobbing. Later, her sweet Black Fox could kiss it all better while she weeps on his chest.
Valeria lifts her knife and fork and cuts into her steak. The meat is pink. My wife likes it bloody. “You’re not drinking your wine, mi amor. Is everything all right?”
I take a long look around the dining room as if it might be my last. The large mahogany table gleams with antique porcelain and is set with silver cutlery and candlesticks.
“Everything’s fine, Valeria.” In a few hours time, she’ll be fast asleep and I plan on being nine inches deep in her daughter’s tight little pussy. Fuck being careful. I’m done being careful. I just need her.
Valeria flicks her gaze up to mine as she continues to cut her steak. There’s something hard and suspicious in her eyes. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“A little tired. Too many late nights.” I can’t pound Lolita too hard right away. Mi niñita is small and fragile, and completely at my mercy. I have to grit my teeth and breathe hard through those first shallow thrusts. It’s torture having to hold back, but I’m so much bigger and stronger than she is. It’s not long until she stretches around me. She loves to take her daddy’s dick.
I can feel Valeria’s eyes on me still and she slides the morsel of steak from her fork into her mouth with her teeth, and I realize I have to say something. “I will find Lolita after dinner, and punish her for her rudeness. She will obey the rules while living in this house.”
My wife smiles indulgently at me. “You’re so protective of what we have. I’ve never felt so safe.”
What we have. I wonder what it is that she thinks we have, her and me.
“Isn’t this cozy.”
We both glance up and see her. Lolita, framed in the doorway at the stairs. She’s wearing nothing but a sheer white dressing gown, open down the front so we can see her smooth belly and tiny briefs. Through the fabric, the dusky tips of her full breasts are visible. It’s an outfit that covers nothing and reveals everything. My mouth starts to water.
“Lolita!” Valeria is outraged. “That’s not how we dress for dinner. Go and put some clothes on at once.”
Lolita keeps her eyes trained on me. “But he likes it, Mama. Don’t you, Zacarias?” She slowly moves toward us with something heavy and silver in her hand.
She holds it lazily, the tip scraping across the floor in a way that makes me wince. That’s no way to treat an expensive and very cherished blade. When she reaches me, she lifts the sword and presses the tip against my throat.
“Don’t you, daddy?”
Even as she threatens me, it makes my cock throb to hear her call me that. She’s got the sweetest, throatiest little-girl voice, and all I can think of suddenly is bursting deep inside her. I would bloody my knuckles and fight in the street like a wolf alpha protecting his mate if I had to.