Take Me, Daddy

F*ck you Mark! F*ck you!

I cursed under my breath as I walked underneath the rain, tears streaming down my eyes, my mascara running wild across my cheeks. I felt like my world was about to tear apart—shredded into a million f*cking pieces.

Mark had broken up with me—or rather, had I broken up with him? I had caught him banging another girl so f*cking wildly, like some unhinged animal. My screams pierced through the air while I called out his name, a desperate, pathetic symphony of betrayal.

He had said I wasn't a good rider, that I was dry as f*ck, and like the naive idiot I was, I had believed him. And now? Now I had caught him balls-deep with Janet, my ex-best friend. The ultimate f*ck you to everything I thought I knew.

I ran with vigorous determination, mud splashing beneath my feet, more tears streaming down my face like a volcano breakdown. The grounds of San Francisco blurred around me—a wild canvas of my pitiful state.

Living in these wildest, most notorious rural areas was nothing to write home about. Just another s*it hole I couldn't wait to escape.

Just a few feet away from home, colored lights flashed in the distance—an unexpected scene which I wasn't expecting.

I walked closer, my curiosity momentarily cutting through my rage.

"What the necromancer is going on?" I muttered, my pace quickening with a mix of anger and intrigue.

The moment I reached home, my little brother Max came rushing out. I couldn't tell if he was crying or if it was just the rain drops cascading down his face.

"Father is dead," he choked out, his voice breaking. "He... he fell from the construction site...."

Max hugged me under the rain, and I stood still, arms wrapped across my brother's shoulders. Shock ricocheted through my body like a live wire.

"Father..." I whispered, the word barely escaping my lips.

I dragged Max inside. My mother came crashing into me, confirming the brutal reality. Yes, it was real. My father was indeed dead.

I had just seen him this morning, and now, he was gone—just like that.

*************

One month had passed since my father's death—one month of suffocating grief and mounting desperation.

"Mother, I will be leaving. I love you so much," I said, hugging my mother with an intensity that spoke of both goodbye and hope.

"You don't have to leave, Annabel," my mother pleaded, her voice a mix of fear and maternal protection.

"I have to," I insisted, my voice rsharp with determination. 

"When I go to the city, I will work so hard to make ends meet. I'll take both you and Max out of this hellhole to a better life."

It wasn't just words. It was a f*cking promise carved into my soul. I was going to give my family a better life, even if it meant traveling to live with my father's best friend—a complete stranger who was now my only lifeline.

*****************

The house was f*cking good. No, scratch that—it was beyond good. It screamed luxury so loud it could wake the dead. I couldn't tell if I was dreaming or had somehow stepped into an alternate universe, but heck, I was here.

"The master is not yet back from work, you will meet him tomorrow morning. I will take you to your room where you will be provided with anything you want," an old man said. He looked like he'd stepped out of some book—a butler who apparently didn't realize butlers don't exist in this modern world.

I shook the thoughts from my head. I followed the butler, two maids carried my bags as I made my way into the vast rooms, I could lose my way if care is not taken.

Still amazed by the crazy expensive designs I had ever seen—if I had ever truly seen luxury before—I walked right into my room.

My eyes widened. Shock. Disbelief. A tornado of f*ck.

"The heck? This isn't mine. No, I can't live here."

I said, walking back, my back almost crushing on the maid standing behind me with my belongings.

The "unknown" titled butler gave me a weird bored look.

"Umm, this is yours ma'am, do you need a better place to stay. Or you don't like it here Annabel?"

I shook my head intensively.

"No no, ummm I'm good," I said, eyes still looking around my room that can literally fit our entire house at home.

The evening descended, rain falling like it was trying to drown the world. Past eight o'clock, and the world outside was like an image of liquid darkness. I always love the sound of rain, the touch of rain on my skin, even though it reminds me of unpleasant memories.

I made my way downstairs and upstairs and again, I really didn't know where I was heading too but I guessed I could explore the building while at it with a f*cking damn robe and wet hair.

All the doors were bolted locked and I was increasingly growing impatient.

"F*ck, why are all the doors bolted, is this how rich people are?" I whispered, gripping the door handle with rising frustration. One sharp breath. One click. The door opened with such force it almost sent me flying across the balcony.

The heavy breeze blew through my body, causing me to shiver. I clutched my robe tightly, like my life depended on it.

"I've been waiting for you."

A voice said, which shocked my inner core. The voice was more than just a voice—a bass-thick, heavy tone that sent shivers down my skin and made my body almost crawl out to the deepest part of the earth.

Instantly, like a clumsy undermining girl I was, I turned to see a figure sitting on a chair that looks like the one I see on TV, those that are on the beach but whatever, what matters was the man sitting down there.

Yes, it was night but the moon did a thing on his face, he wasn't just f*cking drop dead gorgeous, he was f*cking naked with a towel wrapped just calmly round his torso.

I could see the visible line of his dark torso hair going down to the darkness of his….

"Why don't you come here and grab it rather than standing there watching, isn't that what you are supposed to do?"

My mouth gulped as I instantly stopped thinking, my head racing with so many thoughts, who the heck was he and who the heck does he think I am.

"I said, come over here Bambi!"

He said, this time, his voice firmer than the first, his eyes casting a dark demure and striking gaze towards me and unintentionally, I found myself walking towards him like the zombie, like he was the only one there and he was the only one that mattered.

With swift motion, he dragged me towards him, with just one f*cking smooth motion, I found myself on top of him, his hand round about my ass cheek, holding firmly my ass and squeezing and kneading it like it was a dough and like the idiot I was, I found my p*ssy impulsed with so much…. So much… Desire.

I never knew I could ever feel so much current and electricity and desire and a grip of wetness around my inner thighs at the same time.