Forbidden Heat In The Tent (1)

CHAPTER 1: GRINDING AGAINST DADDY

JOANNA POV

I knew this was the absolute worst thing I could do—betraying my own mother—but the throbbing ache between my thighs drowned out every rational voice screaming for me to stop. I couldn't help it; I pressed back harder, grinding my ass slowly, deliberately, against the rigid heat of my stepdad's cock like some shameless, desperate slut.

I lay on my side, facing away from Mom, with Knox right behind me. The three of us were squeezed into one big family tent on this stupid camping trip Mom had planned for “quality time.”

I was eighteen—old enough to know exactly how wrong this was—but the moment I felt his thick cock stiffen against me, every moral screamed in my head went silent. I didn’t care about right or wrong anymore. I just wanted him. All of him. Inside me.

Knox had been my stepdad for five years, ever since Mom married him after Dad walked out. At first, he'd just been the nice guy who stepped in, lovely and kind. But sometime over the last year, everything shifted. I started noticing the way his shirts clung to his chest after a workout, the low rasp in his voice when he said my name. I’d catch myself staring, fantasizing, touching myself late at night to thoughts I had no right to entertain.

Knox was completely off-limits. Forbidden. And that only made the wanting worse.

He shifted in his sleep, his body pressing closer until his front molded perfectly against my back. I froze as I felt his rock-hard cock, nestling between my ass cheeks through through our clothes. My breath caught. It was probably just a dream, right? Guys get hard at night. But knowing it was him made my whole body light on fire.

I should have rolled away. Instead, I pushed back—just a fraction. A jolt of heat shot straight to my core. I held my breath, listening to Mom’s soft, steady breathing a foot away. She was out cold, exhausted from the long drive and wrestling with tent poles all evening.

I did it again. A slow, deliberate roll of my hips.

The pressure felt so good I almost whimpered. Each grind made him thicker, longer...

Oh God. He was waking up. I could feel it in the way his breathing changed—shallower, quicker.

Panic and desire crashed together inside me.

What if he opened his eyes? What if he pushed me away? What if he got mad? Told Mom? I would die. I would actually die. But he didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

He just lay there, letting me take what I needed.

I waited, counting silently to ten. Then twenty. Still nothing.

Maybe he was still asleep. Maybe his body was just reacting on its own. That happened to guys, right?

I couldn’t stop myself. I moved again. My thin cotton shorts were already drenched, and every slow grind sent sparks exploding across my clit. In my head I begged him to wake fully—to rip my shorts down, spread me wide, and drive that rigid cock deep into my aching pussy. To claim me right there, with Mom sleeping inches away.

The danger of it, the utter wrongness, only made me wetter.

My hand slipped between my thighs, fingers circling my clit as I rocked back against him. Every roll of my hips made me imagine it was my pussy sliding along his cock instead of my ass.

Suddenly, Mom stirred. My whole body froze. Every muscle locked tight. She made a small sound, shifted, and sat up. My heart stopped. I squeezed my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep, praying she wouldn’t notice anything. If she turned on the lantern, if she looked over… she would see me pressed right up against her husband.

I heard her reach for the water bottle by her pillow. The plastic crinkled as she took a long drink. I didn’t breathe. I counted the seconds in my head. One… two… three… Please lie back down. Please don’t look. Please don’t notice.

Finally, she sighed and settled back in. Her breathing evened out again within a minute.

I stayed perfectly still for a long time, waiting. My body was shaking a little. Fear and excitement mixed together until I couldn’t tell them apart.

I thought maybe Knox was still asleep. Maybe he’d been asleep the whole time, and his body had just reacted without him knowing. Maybe in the morning he wouldn’t remember any of it.

Then his hand moved around my waist. My breath caught. He pulled me back—just a little—until I was fully against him again. There was no pretending now. He was awake. He knew exactly what I’d been doing.

“Don’t stop, baby,” he whispered, so low I almost believed I’d dreamed it. “Do whatever you want. It’s yours.”

Fire flooded my veins. But panic surged higher. This was real now—too real, too reckless. I couldn’t do this with Mom right there.

I pulled away, my heart pounding, and quietly unzipped the tent door. Cool night air hit my face as I slipped outside.

I wandered to a small rock near the smoldering campfire and sank onto it.

Shame scorched my chest. How would I face him in the morning? How would I look Mom in the eye?

I felt filthy, exhilarated, terrified—all at once.

A few minutes later, I heard soft footsteps. My pulse spiked as Knox appeared. I quickly averted my eyes.

He sat beside me, close enough that his arm grazed mine.

“Joanna” he murmured. “You okay?”

I couldn’t look at him. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I shouldn’t have… done that.”

“Done what?” His tone was gentle, but something dark and hungry threaded beneath it.

“You know what,” I whispered. “In the tent. It was wrong. I’m disgusting.”

He let out a low, soft laugh. “You’re not disgusting, Joanna. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve wanted you far longer than I should ever admit."

My head jerked up. “What?”

His gaze locked on mine, steady and unashamed. “I’ve seen the way you look at me these past months. I tried to bury it, but tonight, when you started grinding back against me… I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.”

My mouth went dry. “You… want me too?”

“Yes.” His voice dropped, rough with confession. “I can’t stop touching myself thinking about you, baby.”

Heat flooded my cheeks at the same time, a delicious pull tightened deep in my belly, urging me closer even as warning bells screamed in my mind. I wanted him—God, I wanted him so badly it scared me.

I shook my head. “We can’t. Mom’s right there. She’s your wife.”

“I know.” He reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “But we’re out here now. Alone.”

I swallowed hard. “You should go back to her. Sleep next to Mom like a good husband.”

He gave a quiet, knowing chuckle. “Trying to send me away?”

“Yes,” I lied. Because the truth was I wanted him to stay. I wanted his hands on me. I wanted that thick, hard cock I’d felt earlier buried deep inside me until I couldn’t think.

He didn’t budge. “You think I could sleep now? After knowing how badly you want Daddy inside you?”

“Daddy, stop,” I breathed, but the protest trembled with raw need.

“Then look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want this.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

“That’s what I thought.” He cupped my cheek, thumb tracing my lower lip. “I’ve wanted you too, Joanna. For far too damn long.”

Our lips crashed together, hot and desperate, like we’d been holding this back for years. His tongue pushed into my mouth, tasting me deep, and I moaned softly, the sound lost against his lips. In one quick move, he pulled me onto his lap, my legs straddling him on the rock. His cock was already rock-hard again, pressing up against me through his pants, and I couldn’t stop myself from rocking against it, chasing the ache he’d started in the tent.

"Fuck me, Daddy," I whispered desperately against his mouth.

He groaned, thrusting up to meet my grind. “You feel so fucking good.”

His hands slid greedily under my tank top, teasing my nipples. Then he broke the kiss just long enough to bunch the fabric higher, then his mouth was on my breast, sucking my stiff nipple. I gasped sharply, arching into him, my fingers digging into the hard muscle of his shoulders as pleasure spiked through me.

“Daddy…” I breathed, the word slipping out soft and needy.

“Shh,” he warned, voice low and rough against my skin. “We gotta stay quiet, sweetheart. Your mom’s right there in the tent."

Mom. The word sent ice and fire through me at the same time. What if she heard? What if the tent flap opened and she saw me straddling her husband like this? Guilt clawed at my chest, but it only made me grind harder, made me wetter. I was a terrible daughter. A terrible person. But I didn’t care. Not right now.