No joke, Salome changed her mind sixteen times when trying to decided if she wanted to meet her birth mom. It wasn't that she was scared but there was a real thought and fear that she would just lose it in the middle of the conversation and she didn't want to lose it. Her father would get upset at Amanda and it wasn't this woman's fault that
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But its suitability doesn't make it any less moving; quite the contrary, his heart swells with pride and love, and he rocks within her, tilting his head to plant tender kisses down her neck. His arms around her tighten while he murmurs against her throat. "No, baby, I'll never let you go, you should know that by now. There's nothing you could hope to do to get me to let you go. I don't care...if you're arrested. Or if you got knocked up, or ran off with some stupid boy. You will always, always be mine, I will always be here to hold you when you need it, to help you up and kiss your wounds. My Salome, oh, Salome." He sighs and lifts his head to stare deep into her eyes, beyond them, while his back and hips arch against her with lazy pleasure.
"You could kill a man and I'd help you clean up the body. I will never stop loving you." And in fact, such a thing would probably get him loving her more. "I will be a part of you forever, my darling girl, and you, a big chunk of myself."
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"Daddy," she attempts to wrap her arms around him as best as she can, eyes squeezing shut as she sniffles softly and hides her face against his neck, wet with tears that are escaping the confines of her eyes and leaking all over her cheeks and his neck. Because that's the fear, isn't it? To be let go, to be cast aside and forgotten about. To know that he won't let her go, that no matter what he will be there to comfort and to wrap around her in such a way to let her know that he still loves her, touches her deeply. She doesn't know what to say, how to respond, except against him in wet tears. It's been an emotional day and this, this is just icing on the cake.
She isn't sad, but just, deeply touched and moved by what he is telling her and that she completely and utterly believes it. "I love you," all broken and whispered wet. "I love you so much. I won't ever stop. I won't ever leave you, I swear."
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"Shsh, baby, it's okay, Daddy's here." His arms tighten around her, one hand resting upon the back of her head while his other arm cradles her back. "And he'll always be here. Always, always. Cry to your pretty heart's content, he'll never do anything but kiss those delicious tears from your eyes."
Unless she gives him a reason to leave her--a good reason, a damn good reason--he absolutely sees no reason to leave her. It would be silly. She's one of his most valuable possessions, there's no way he could bring himself to throw her away even if she did end up burning down their house. Her fragile little whispers only seem to hammer the point home, his fingers curling in her hair and his chin resting upon the top of her head, a wolf curling around its pup.
It's cute, she says it as if she has a say in the matter one way or another. "I know you won't, baby. You're mine forever." His lips purse and he kisses the crown of her skull, his hips rocking slow against hers. "You and I are bound to each other by love, and blood, and many other things besides, it seems. So never worry. I have little doubt that we'll both be there for one another whenever we really need to be."
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She feels like she felt a million years ago when she was tiny and woke up from a nightmare and he was there to comfort and take her in his arms. It's a beautiful feeling to know that even after all those years have past that he will still wrap around her and comfort her, even though it's not fear that she is currently feeling. In moments like this, there is no way she could ever rise to hurt him or leave him. Too bad there is no way to bottle this feeling, to keep it on her at all times to take out when she is in need of reminding when he isn't there with her, or if he is there, he can't pull her on to his lap like this and reassure her.
Her fingers wrap around his shoulders and she sniffles a little bit, her hips picking up the slow pace that he is giving her, taking her mind off the tears and off the current overwhelming happiness and ache that he put in her that inspired those tears. He will always be there to kiss her hair, to whisper into her ear. "Forever," she agrees quietly before putting a soft, wet kiss on the heated skin of his throat. A few more kisses up the line of his throat to his ear, where she rests her forehead for a moment. "You're so good to me. I'll love you for ten thousand years."
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Those tears are like nectar, so sweet, so beautiful. He pecks her cheek and nuzzles up against her wet flesh, humming against her with a low sigh of bliss. "I can't help but be good to you,you're my weakness, baby. My heel." And how. If she wasn't, Susan wouldn't have any power over him.
Sitting up, Richard keeps her pinned to his chest to let her rock in his lap while his hips arch and grind in time with hers. He tilts her head back to kiss her mouth and jaw, smiling as he does. "You're so beautiful when you cry, babydoll, you know that? I hate to see you cry as much as I love it."
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"I didn't mean to cry on you during sex," she whispers and finally pulls back to look up at him with a slight smile. Her hand moves back over his cheek and then down over his throat and neck, pushing away all the wet that she left there when she pressed close and cried on him like the little girl that she is. Of course he doesn't mind, he never minds anything when it comes to her. Well there are some things, but most of the time he takes her as she is and tells her that he loves her despite it all.
Her arms and legs wrap around him as he sits up on the bed, sighing deeply as she bounces on his lap, little thrusts to go along with the rocking and grinding of his hip into hers. "I think I am kind of messy when I cry," she looks up at him with a smile, her lips brushing over his after his tongue presses to her cheek. A deep breath in and she nuzzles his cheek in return, kissing his face over and over as she sighs out a groan against him. "I love you all over, I love you absolutely, no matter what."
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"Messy, maybe, but I think it's beautiful. All that pure, sweet emotion pouring out of you." It's nothing he could possibly comprehend on any real level, but oh, God, he can certainly admire it. Especially in moments like these, when his entire body seems to be contained in that one point within hers, when his hands can't possibly touch her skin enough.
"That's what I like to hear, baby." He grins, devilish, and nips the tip of her nose. "You better remember that, young lady." He squeezes her tight and presses his hand to her abdomen, his lips capturing hers. "I'd hate to have to remind you."
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So good. So very nice. Her hands all over him and his hands all over her, she can breathe up against his chest and sink her teeth into his collar, sucking on the bite of skin all while she grinds down on top of him. She wants to tear him apart, to grip and rip him till her fingers stop aching and all she can feel is the squish and crunch of him under her nails and between her fingers.
"You won't have to ever remind me, I'm yours."
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Like father, like daughter. He could tear her limb from limb in moments like these, as a reaction to the beautiful, suffocating intimacy between the two of them. He lifts his head to grin at her promise, tongue ghosting against her lips while the hand around her back finds a place to play between her legs and double her pleasure. "No? Even if I'm the wickedest, cruelest man who ever lived, you'll still be mine?"
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"I'll still be yours, I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky." Her hands through his hair and her head ducking to capture his mouth in a brutally hard kiss. That's when she tries to wiggle away from him, and turn over. The weight of him on top of her reminds her how good it feels when he is taking her from behind. She wants him to push her down into the mattress with the power of those hips.
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As she wiggles away from him, he very nearly growls; then, though, she turns over and lifts that beautiful little backside into the air, and he reels forward to reclaim what's his. He plants a trail of kisses up her thighs and over her ass and the small of her back, one hand gripping her shoulder while the other hand slides him home again. He groans sharply, his hand tightening around her while his hips slide against hers, the animalistic position one that always seems to do something to his brain. In an instant, the gentle rocking from before has been replaced by the merciless pound of his hips into hers, one hand bracing her pelvis to keep it still while the other pushes her upper half down into the bed. The silk confines are so tight he can barely stand it, his entire body screaming for her while the mattress sings along.
"Oh, Christ, babydoll, such a good little girl." A groan pours from his chest over the sound of wet flesh hitting wet flesh. "You feel so perfect around daddy's cock, Salome, you can't imagine."
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So barbaric, so animalistic, the primitive of the primitive. When they can't bare to be civilized humans any more. "I love it when you come up behind me, like some mangy mutt who smells willing pussy." So degrading, so vile, more, more more, always more, always worse. There is never anything too low, too disgusting. Playing around in the muck and dirt of each others minds is something she feels brings them closer together, there is nothing that is off limits and she loves that.
Plus, from this position she can wiggle her hand down in between her legs to feel him pound, pound, pound her until she is nothing but soaking wet and swollen around him. She was made to fit his cock, he just slides in perfectly every time, and she can squeeze him so viciously when she concentrates on those muscles he works himself into. "Don't you love how wet your little slut daughter gets for you? Fuckkk they'll need to burn these sheets when we're done."
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The way she squeezes makes his head swim helplessly; he lurches forward, panting, his pace between her legs never relenting as he hammers deep within her. "I do, my dirty little slut, I love it. How disgusting a girl you are to get so wet, to spread your legs for me." He grins broader, moaning between phrases that tumble from his brain without particular control. "And how foul a man I am to get as hard for you as I do."
He shifts the angle of her hips up a bit more to give him better access to all those beautiful, sensitive little spots within her. "Of course they will. Covered in your cum, naughty girl, and mine, and your blood, and sweat, and tears, my God." He laughs, even the sound of his laughter dark and lustful, and both his hands shift to her hips to slam her back against his pelvis and double the force with which he takes her.
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She wants him to grip his fingers into her and leave her covered in his marks. "Foul, foul, deviant. Fucking his daughter in some motel room. This is what you love, and how disgusting, what did you think, daddy, 'for my daughters birthday I should take her away so she can sit on my cock all night and scream?'" Hopefully, because this is probably her most favorite birthday ever. He continues to work her and she continues to groan into those soiled sheets her forehead pressing as she gets tighter and tighter, and when his cock rubs up against that spot she just loses it.
Her hips try and buck, even as her body goes taunt and stiff, toes digging into the fabric of the sheets as she screams into the mattress for him. Daddy, daddy, daddy. She can't ever get enough, even as she soaks his cock and groans out into the sheets. She can't help herself, she won't ever be able to stop. The delicious disgusting acts that they partake in won't ever come around again with anyone else. She only has one father.
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"Not at first, no, I didn't think that." He grins and bends over her to kiss her shoulder blades, saying, "But once you came onto me, I couldn't pass up the opportunity. It's a present for your birthday, and it's a present for mine. Something we can both enjoy."
And oh, he does enjoy it more than she could possibly begin to know. It's a constant surge of power mingled with absolute adoration for her, and more than that, it's an incredible way to reconcile those two very separate sides of himself, the side of daddy and the side of Richard. There are still parts of himself he has to keep hidden, of course, but he feels so much freer now that he doesn't have to keep up the appearance of being nothing but the good daddy.
The sight of her climax, and the sensation of it around his cock, leaves him utterly helpless. He roars her name and drapes himself upon her, moans pouring from his mouth while he pounds straight through his darling girl's orgasm. The way she soaks him wet is sinfully erotic, and he give in, letting her drag him with her. With a few explosive bursts of pleasure, he finds his own orgasm, and collapses upon her to pant while, for a few blissful seconds, his mind is absolutely blank of everything but ecstasy.
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She feels so fucking good. All she can do is lay there and let her body twitch and squeeze under him, trembling with those delightful aftershocks that she gets after he makes her come. So much better then when she does it to herself. It's just more powerful with him, more long lasting.
"Mmmmm I did come on to you," and he was so fucking easy, her father, the little slut. "I love it when we have daddy time."
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