Father Daughter Romance Books 소설 & 이야기

I want him to stretch that huge body the full length of mine, and take me, just take me like he did last night, like he did this morning. My gaze focuses on his lips now, those lips that know my most intimate places and parts. God, the man can kiss, he kisses like the devil himself – and suddenly, I know that I’ll sell her soul right here and right now for a kiss from Daddy. Just one. What would one hurt? No, no, no. We still have work to do, and there are staff right outside the library door. No. “Baby girl,” he murmurs now, his voice lower than usual. “You’re staring at me. What are you thinking?”

I just looked him in the eye and smiled. “You already made up your mind for everyone. So who exactly is this ‘let me choose’ performance for? The reporters? Or the people you do business with?” Seraphina blinked fast. She stepped closer, grabbed my father’s arm, and let her voice break at just the right moment. “Brielle, do not speak to Dad that way. He only worries about you. He is scared that no one will ever marry you.” Her voice carried just enough for the nearby tables to hear. Someone nodded along. Someone let out a sigh. Someone mumbled that the older daughter was so kind and thoughtful.

“She can call you daughter. She can spin her lies. But every moan you’ve given, every secret look, every piece of you it’s mine. Do you understand?” Tears welled in her eyes, but she nodded. “Yes.” “Say it.” “I’m yours.” His arms tightened, sealing the vow. The house was silent when Sierra finally lay in Damien’s bed. Yet her mind refused to quiet. Every creak of wood, every brush of wind against the windows made her flinch. She stared into the darkness, her breath shallow. Shadows crawled across the ceiling, shifting into shapes that whispered Vanessa’s words back to her. Daughter. Owned. Caged.

Eden asked. He didn't answer right away. His face had gone pale, as if the ghosts he buried had risen all at once. Finally, he whispered, “Valeska.” Roman stiffened. “That’s not possible. She’s dead.” “She was,” her father murmured. “Or so I thought.” Eden stared between them. “Someone tell me who she is.” Her father exhaled, slowly. “She was Lucien’s original partner—before even me. Strategic genius. Untraceable. Ruthless. She taught Lucien everything he knew. And when she disappeared, we assumed he killed her.”

Warning: This book series has lots of steamy scenes and you are in for a hot thrilling ride. Blurb “I will mark every inch of your body, gag and pin you while filling you up with my c*m and watching you writhe in pleasure under me. Something I am sure that loser could never do.” He smirked. ** ** ** Still reeling from the humiliation of a horrible break up from her ex and her parents’ divorce, Isadora Kingsford decides to stay with her best friend over the holidays just to get over the hurt however what she didn't prepare for was lusting after Tristan Kavanaugh—her best friend’s sinfully attractive father.

-Daphne- Her shouting drew my father into the room. He must have been walking by, and while he often didn’t want to deal with my mother’s moods, he seemed to sense I might need some help. “What’s going on here?” my dad asked. “Our daughter is in love,” my mother retorted. “Oh?” “With a werewolf.” “With a what?” my dad inquired, and I glanced over my shoulder, seeing him step closer. “I’m sure I heard wrong.”

“But he’s not invincible. Stay back, Sophie. Protect the girls. Watch for openings.” Darius’s smirk returned as he gestured toward the scattered papers. “Curiosity… greed… desperation. All human traits. Your father had them. And so do you.” He moved closer, and my stomach sank. “What does he want from us?” I whispered, voice trembling. Lucian caught my hand, grounding me. “Not just from us… from your father’s past. He wants something Dad protected. Something powerful. And he believes you have the key.” Darius suddenly lunged again, faster this time, aiming to grab one of the envelopes containing my father’s most sensitive documents. Lucian intercepted, and the struggle became a blur of motio

Bryan’s remark annoyed me to no end. I was wrong about him. He hit on Mom, and it was not recent, either. Mom pushed me to the ground, the broken shard on the floor piercing into my back. An excruciating pain washed over me. Without looking at me, Mom cupped Bryan’s face between her hands. “Does it hurt, Bryan? Let me blow the pain away.” They made me sick to my stomach. Despite her years on earth, Mom lost all reason and turned against me, her daughter, for a man.

Not in that sick romantic way, just a way that a daughter could only love a father. Not once did he raise his voice at me; he always explained my punishments when I was a child. I wrote my emotions, and it became an extraordinary skill to learn. I took up his passion and began writing my own books. Dad liked the action, adventure, and sci-fi novels while I geared towards romance. The type of romance that doesn't exist in this world. The kind of romance that will never exist to any woman, the kind that makes you sick with longing. My dad believed in love once, and look where it got him? I loved to imagine the perfect man. Doing creative writing exercises was always fun; the perfectly handsome

I said, my voice thick with emotion. I slid closer to him, bridging the gap between us on the sofa. "Your mother has... her flaws. She gets lost in her work, and she doesn't know how to slow down. But it has nothing to do with you. You are brilliant, and you are worthy of someone's undivided attention. Never doubt that." Olise stared at me, his lip quivering. "Do you mean that?" "With all my heart," I murmured. With a soft sob, Olise closed the remaining distance between us. He leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of my neck, his hands clutching the fabric of my shirt. His body shook with quiet tears as he finally let go of the pain he’d been holding onto.