Step-Santa (Wanting What’s Wrong #7) Read Online Dani Wyatt

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Forbidden, Mafia, Taboo, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Wanting What's Wrong Series by Dani Wyatt
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
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She shoves the bundle of heavy red velvet and white faux fur into my hands as Grandpa chuckles.

“Go, go you two. There’s so much to do before tonight. We only have five hours before guests arrive and the caterers are running late. The florist brought the wrong poinsettias or Lucy usurped my authority and told them to bring those gaudy variegated ones…” She throws her hands up and spins, her plump rear end twitching back and forth as she fusses and leaves us standing there.

“Let’s get to measuring. I’d like to show you exactly how many inches you’re going to need to accommodate in that inseam, baby.” He leans in to brush his lips on my cheek before nodding toward the hall.

I stumble trip and right myself, following him, watching how his butt looks in his jeans, wondering what it would look like flexing and tensing as he drove himself in and out, in and out…

It’s okay, baby, Papa loves you. We don’t need to hide anymore.

“Come in.”

I yelp, lost in the image of him on top of me on the sofa in the living room; naked, tensing, pushing, driving hard as I spread my knees, weeping at the painful pleasure as he enters me for the first time.

I follow him into the library which has one wall full of my hardcover and paperback books. They are organized by color, which makes it hard to find what I’m looking for sometimes, but it’s aesthetically pleasing and no one else seems to care.

“Close the door,” he says as the warmth of the low fire in the fireplace heats my already flaming skin.

Lust dilates his pupils as I swing the door closed, and he reaches over and clicks the deadbolt with a thunk.

He rasps his face into my neck, his hand once again under my skirt and fingering my pussy, my heart a drumbeat in my chest.

“My little Christmas prize.” He mumbles, his other hand slipping under my sweater. “Drop the suit, I’m going to let you measure me, but it won’t require me putting on that suit. I fucking need you, Carina. You’re my girl now and not how you’ve been. In new ways you might not understand.”

I let the Santa suit fall onto the floor around our feet as arousal pumps through me. He shifts forward, rubbing his hardness on my hip, and I can’t help but rub myself right back against him.

“Horny for Papa, aren’t you?”

I nod as the fire between my legs ignites and he lets out a groan that connects directly to my clit.

“I know you’re untouched, baby. But you know what’s going to happen, don’t you?”

His rough fingers twirl over my nipple and one thick digit presses inside me, making me hiss. “Yes.”

“We’re going to fuck. Raw and rough. That means this cock you’ve made so hard is going inside here.” He twists his finger into my opening as moisture floods from my body. The tingling and tension tangle into a tapestry of desperation and wanting so intense my vision turns fuzzy and thoughts of any consequences evaporate into the air. “You make Papa hard and you need to fix it. The only way is to put it inside you. Then, I’ll give you your prize. Only this time, it’s going to be balls deep in that baby maker of yours when it happens.”

Desire blinds me. “Yes,” I gasp as his hands leave me and in one swift move, he’s tugging my sweater over my head, throwing it to the floor before lowering his head and licking at the tight peaks.

Then he draws one deep into the warmth of his mouth, making me sigh and steady myself with my hands on his shoulders.

“Just like sugar plums. I knew they’d be sweet, but not as sweet as what you’ve been saving for me down here.”

He drags me across the room, lowering me onto a thick fluffy sheepskin rug in front of the fire with pillows all around. My skin tingles as he lowers himself on top of me, hands knitting in my hair as his weight presses me into the floor.

A moan catches in my throat as he rocks against me, his hardness on top of my mound as his body shifts and jerks. He kicks off his boots, then forces my legs wide, yielding to his lower body.

Is this really happening?

His nostrils flare as he paws at my breasts, lips pressing onto mine as I arch and wrap my legs around his, tugging him closer, straining for friction. His mouth opens and our tongues collide as his knees settle between mine, grinding against me as my petals spread and unfold with the realization that play time is over.

“You’ve been naughty. Teasing me. Coming downstairs with those tights cut open so I could smell your wet cunt. Did you think you’d get away with it without paying the piper?”


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