That’s my signal. I slip two fingers inside her horny cunt, careful not to break her fragile shield, and shake them gently. Her pussy clamps down, and she makes a sound I’ve never heard from her before—pure, animal pleasure.
“Ooooh!” she squeals. “Mmm, more!”
I know I shouldn’t because any vigorous exercise should be off limits. But this woman looks so beautiful nude, with her big breasts trembling and her thighs wet as I shake my fingers inside her tender pussy.
“Yesss,” I hiss while giving her pleasure. “This slutty cunt needs Daddy’s fingers, doesn’t it? You like that.”
Daisy can’t reply because she’s already approaching the cliff.
“Oh,” she squeals. “Oh oh oh, my god, Hunter!”
Then it happens. The curvy girls soars over the precipice, her cunt clamping down on my hand with vicious tremors. She milks my fingers, sobbing and crying as convulsions overcome her twat, hot nectar spilling out into my palm.
“Hunter!” she cries out. “Oooh god yes!”
I croon with pleasure, soothing her with praise.
“Yes baby, you look so good like this. You’re a slut through and through, and you crave Daddy’s hard cock in this horny cunt. Don’t worry, it’s coming soon.”
The beautiful blonde can’t reply as I continue to shake my fingers in her wet slit, her back arching as she’s overcome with ecstasy. But finally, she calms somewhat, still panting and gasping after her powerful climax. I pull back, wiping my mouth. “You’re beautiful, Daisy,” I say, voice shaking. “You’re absolutely what the club needs and wants.”
She looks at me, stunned.
“You mean for the auction?” she says, and it comes out half-tease, half-dream.
I stand, cupping her face in both hands, and kiss her slow and deep. She melts into it, her body pressing to mine, tits crushed against my chest. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
I pull away and look her in the eyes. “Yes, for the auction. You’re perfect, Daisy. They’re going to lose their minds.”
She nods, breathless.
“I think I will do it then,” she whispers.
Perfect. I smile because as fucked up as it is, I can’t wait to see my slutty stepsister on stage with her curves bare and lush. I want other men to look at her … only to realize that she belongs to me.
7
CHAPTER 7 – PREPARING FOR THE BIG DAY
DAISY
The suite is even quieter than usual—so still the only thing I hear is the soft beating of my own heart. Light filters in through gauze curtains, silver and indifferent, and on the wide velvet settee my body feels both too heavy and almost not there. I stare at the city out the window, all glass and pale fire, and try not to blink, because every time I do, I see something that doesn’t belong.
Sometimes it’s a flash of a cafe, the sticky hum of an espresso machine, a chalkboard menu that spells “special” wrong. Other times, I get a perfect Polaroid: a girl with blonde hair and laughter that sounds like bells, a sapphire engagement ring so blue it looks Photoshopped. She’s holding up her hand to show it off. There’s a man’s voice, too, warm and teasing, but I can’t make out the words.
Then it’s gone—like the shape of a dream, or a word on the tip of my tongue. The only thing left is this taste in my mouth, like old pennies and loss. When I try to grab the pieces, they slip. That’s the scariest part.
But mostly I just sit, legs curled under, with a new phone in my hand that the club gave me to use. I scroll through my contacts, but there’s only “Hunter,” starred and pinned at the top. I resist the urge to text him. Instead, I browse through Instagram and pretend to care.
The knock on my door is soft, and I perk up.
“Hey, Daisy?” Sophia’s voice floats in, all sing-song and spa-calm. “Can I come in?”
I drop my phone on the table and smooth my hair with both hands, as if she’s already inside. “Of course! It’s open.”
The gorgeous brunette enters carrying a bouquet of garment bags, black and gold satin, so heavy she staggers a little. Behind her, a rolling rack follows on silent wheels, trailed by a slender woman in club uniform who doesn’t say a word. The two of them make quick work of hanging the bags, then the helper bows out, leaving us alone.
Sophia’s cheeks are flushed with excitement, her big bust heaving with exertion. She looks like she was born for this job: every inch beautiful, from the subtle highlights in her chestnut hair to the way her cardigan hugs her shape just right.