Blaze (Halloween's Forbidden Lust)

Content warning: this book contains adult situations, explicit sex scenes and strong language. This book is intended for mature audiences only.

Copyright 2013 Alexia Stark

Blaze

Alexia Stark

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Blaze

Ginger

Ginger primped her blond locks around the cute plastic horns. Her step father, Kaden, had worked really hard on the haunted house, and she was ready to be the hot devil that made people look the other way so he could slip up behind patrons as Death and scare the crap out of them.

With a finger, she traced over the thick, dark marks she’d painted on to look like hell had singed her
on her bare hip. The black baiting suit only just covered her, and she knew that a few vigorous motions could embarrass her.

With a glance back at the mirror, she scratched at the air with a quick “Meow.” and a sharp hiss. Grinning, she flounced out of her room and toward the stairs. Humming, she skipped down the stairs, forearms flat against her breasts to keep them from popping loose.

Halfway down the stairs a thick voice assailed her senses. “You’re not going like that, are you?”

She turned, looking up at Kaden. His flowing black robes were wicked. The hood cast
his powerful features in shadow, obscuring his face from view.

“Daddy! You scared me.”
She wondered what he’d done with his scythe. True to form, he’d actually bought a real one from an antique shop.

Still reeling, she spoke quickly. “I thought it would be easier to get people’s attention like this.” She glanced down at her suit, her arms still folded over her chest to contain her soft curves. “Not that it matters, you’re fucking spooky. And silent.”

He let out a laugh. “Not silent at all, you were just lost in your own little world. You need to put something else on, though. That’s a bit… risqué.”

“I’m not jailbait anymore. It’s not a big deal.” With a playful wiggle of her ass, she danced down the steps, turning to slide along the banister before turning the other direction and prancing sideways down the last few steps.

Reaching the bottom, she gave a mischievous pirouette. She grounded herself and made her way to the garage with quick, graceful steps, her feet as light as her heart. Tonight was going to be too much fun.

She would be in the last room, up on a stage-like lift, demanding attention. When they’d first talked, she and Kaden had decided
that, in addition to their props and other toys, it would be fun to be part of the scare this year.

Ginger sighed. They’d done this every year since he’d married her mother. This was the first year she’d been in her own place, though, and he’d sounded tentative on the phone when he’d called to see if she wanted in on the action. She’d said yes without hesitation, of course. It was her favorite tradition.

She reached the back door and paused. Turning, she spoke over her shoulder to an empty room. “Hey, I’m going to run through from the start to make sure everything’s in order.”

There was no response, but she hurried to the front door anyway. Even though they had hours before they opened the door for people, she wanted to see how awesome all his hard work had paid off. With the holiday falling on a workday, she hadn’t gotten to be much help.

She pulled the front door open and skipped around the side of the house to the garage. His truck and her car blocked the drive, even thought the door was still down. She reached into his truck and hit the button on his garage door opener. When it hit halfway, she hit it again and hurried under, stepping over the laser and squealing as she narrowly made it through.

The
red light didn’t illuminate the room very well, and she knew he’d have the front rigged with the fogger, and thick fog would swirl about people’s knees as they wandered in. The ticker in the first room held the list of requirements and was as tight as a public phone booth.

Her eyes strayed to rule three;
one at a time
.

That one usually did people in. After all, noting is as scary with a friend. She pushed forward into the first room, flinching at the realistic bodies tightly wrapped in white cloth and hung with barbed wire. Soft whispers chanted, but she couldn’t make out the words even as the sounds grew louder.

With a shiver, she moved forward. The second room was comprised of a tight space with dried bodies that reminded her of the Pompeii plaster remains surrounding her so tight she had to turn sideways to not touch any of them. Judging by the rot stench, he’d gone so far as to get a bucket of something filthy to add to the realism, and she made a mental note to chide him. Mummified bodies wouldn’t have that foul reek of death.

Closing her eyes, she considered backing out. Tight spaces were easily her undoing. With a few deep breaths and a silent curse at her slamming heart, she pushed forward into a slightly more open hall. She recognized this one, and knew he’d gotten more help than just her this year. She glanced up, seeing the spot where some guy, likely with a chainsaw in hand, would drop and chase some poor person through this scene.

True to form, she sprinted, though nothing dropped behind her. The forced turn was eerily lit, and she waited, muscles tensed, waiting for whatever terrifying thing would pop out at her. With a glance around, she noticed the strobe light and walked over to it. Noticing it was plugged in, she made her way forward, knowing she needed to tell him something was up with it. Past the turn, she came into their room. Her stage was set, the light was darker red and more threatening.

She made her way to the stage, bending over the hip-level wood to slap the trapdoor she would pop out of. “Fuck yes,” she grunted, a smile creeping over her face. The door was invisible in the light, and she knew she’d make people jump, even though she wasn’t the main scare in the room.

A snarling voice startled her. “I told you to wear something else.”

With her top half still resting on the stage, she glanced over her shoulder. “And I told you I’m not jail bait anymore. People can look.”

The flowing robes were even more terrifying in the deep red light. Before she could blink, his body pinned her against the wood, and she gasped. His hand smacked her thigh, then slid up her leg toward her ass.

With a whimper, she spoke. “Wha- what are you doing?”

“Shut up.” His index and middle finger hooked under the edge of her suit bottoms. Excitement surged through her. Her teeth caught her lower lip, and she fought not to moan as dampness surged between her folds.
Maybe if I struggle, just a little bit, he’ll get rough. Just like I like it.

Experimentally, she wiggled her ass, as if to pull away.
He clapped a hand on her other hip, his fingers digging into her skin. A muffled groan of pleasure slipped between her lips as his fingers quested further under her suit. They grazed the line under the delicate cheek, moving steadily closer to her pussy without hesitation.

The wooden planks under her chest and belly dug in, holding her from moving too much. She sucked in a deep breath, noticing the scent of wood, dust and the dark devil behind her. His scythe slammed down on the wood beside her and she flinched.

The agonizingly slow movements of his hand annoyed her, so she pulled away. Sliding to the side, she silently begged him to give chase as she pulled free of his pinning embrace. Stepping toward freedom, sharp pain ripped through her scalp as his fingers closed around her blond locks.

He swung her back around. Her heart slammed in her chest as he pushed her back down on the stage, leaving her bent and vulnerable.
Oh, fuck, this is so sexy.
She let out a gasp as he pinned her with a forearm, his fingers on the outside of her suit bottoms, stroking along the damp material. The lyrica clung to her wet pussy, and the gentle tickle of his fingers along the sensitive, swollen flesh tormented her.

“You’re so wet.” His growl sent her heart into overdrive. “My little girl is so excited, with no one to please her.”

She moaned. Needing more stimulation, she wiggled. The triangles of her top slipped to the sides, leaving her breasts free against the wood. With the tiny bit of give he’d allowed, she lifted up on her elbows. His hand pulled back and she whimpered, not wanting him to go even as she felt a flash of embarrassment. Her
father
was making her so hot she couldn’t think straight.

She let out a yelp as his hand connected with her flesh, the sharp slap stinging even as her pussy tingled with need. Her body pitched forward with the blow; her nipples scraped the wood, sending bolts of need right to her core.

“You’re such a naughty girl, getting so wet for your Daddy.” His words reached her from far away.

“Please…” she gasped, needing him, wanting the release his fingers had teased at.

“Please what?” he asked, his fingers tracing over her hip and down the line of her suit bottoms toward her inner thigh.

Refusing to answer, she bit down on her lip and thrust her ass back toward him, trying to force his fingers to touch her lips once more. He pulled back a bit. Upset he was pulling back, she lowered her forehead to the stage.

His palm stung against her ass, but a scream tore from her throat because of the sharp burst of pain as his fingertips smacked against her pussy with the blow. Tears filled her eyes, excitement surged in the tingling flesh between her legs.

Oh, god, please just fuck me!
The dirty thought brought a surge of shame.
I don’t care! I want my dad to fuck me!
Somehow, the forbidden-ness of it turned her on even more and she moaned.

His whispered words curled her spine, leaving her wanting to beg for it even more. “You’re loving this, aren’t you? My bad girl likes spankings.” His hand came to rest on her ass, his thumb slipping under the thin material. She whimpered and jolted as the pad of his thumb circled her pucker. “Maybe I need to think of a new way to punish you.”

She held her breath, terrified to move as he eased around the delicate opening before withdrawing. Instead, his index fingers slid along her soaking pussy, the heat of his touch coaxing another whimper from her throat. When his thumb made its way back up to her pucker, she sucked in a breath and held it. The world took on a hazy swirl, like the time she’d gotten into Daddy’s stash of Bourbon.

Kaden

Her body went stiff, but he’d already crossed the line. The line was miles back, now. He gazed down at her ass, loving the heart-shaped curve of the delicate, pale flesh. His finger teased around her sensitive opening, begging her to respond. Even if she didn’t…

His teeth sliced his lip, the burst of pain just enough to ease the worst of the agony of his cock straining against his pants under the thick robes encasing his form. Damn tease. She’d baited him with the little wiggle of her ass, and her half-hearted attempt at escape. There was no way she was getting away now.

Under the red light her skin almost glowed, despite the dark smears of body paint she’d brushed on. The tip of his thumb penetrated her tight little ass and she let out another of those cock-teasing whimpers. Massaging gently, he pulled his forearm from her lower back. She wouldn’t try to get away now, he was sure, not with his finger threatening such a sweet and painful place.

“Daddy—“ she whimpered, and he smiled. The perverse situation was riling her up as much as it was him.

“Yes?” he asked, slipping his index finger
back down toward her pussy. He tried to rein in the urge to shove the material aside and press his aching cock into her. She’d be dripping if the suit wasn’t there to contain her moisture, and the intoxicating thought played seek and destroy with the last reserve of strength he had to stop.

Short, quick breaths escaped her, as if she was stuttering, trying to speak. “Uh… I… we... uh…”

He withdrew his fingers, loving how she flopped onto the stage. “Sorry. You were saying?”

She threw a glance over her shoulder at him, her eyes sex-hungry. “Please…”
Those brown eyes rolled back as he pressed his fingers into her tight pussy. A moan left her rib cage deflating as he twisted his fingers inside her and pulled back.

“Please what?” He toyed with the strings tying the suit bottoms in place, refusing to meet her desperate gaze.
Would she say it?
he wondered. Did she have the guts to ask her
father
to fuck her? And would he have the strength to hold back?

With deliberately
slow motions, he untied the dark strings, watching them snap free with pleasure. “What do you want me to do to you?” he asked, peeling the dark material from her pretty ass.

She whimpered in response, and he let his evil grin grow. The dark confines of the robe were growing hotter every second, but some part of him wanted this, the frightening image of death subduing the devil. He untied the other side of her suit, letting the scrap fall at their feet as she let out a strangled sound that enflamed him more. The little wench had no idea how much he
needed
her right now.