Daddy’s Halloween Treat

She’s going to give her Daddy a Halloween treat he won’t forget.

I’ve been lusting after my dad for the past year, and I’ve finally decided I’m going to go for it.

On Halloween, I dress up as the goddess of love and sneak around the house to trick him… only, before I know it, I’m on my knees and begging him for his long, hard, treat.

Word count: 4,700. All characters are 18+
The cover picture is 100% created with AI.

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Excerpt

Right as I step out onto the back porch, the sky opens up. Fat raindrops pelt my skin, quickly soaking through my thin costume. The white fabric turns translucent, clinging to my body like a second skin. I should feel embarrassed, but instead, a rush of pleasure runs through me. I feel sexy, daring, alive.

I sprint to around the house in my sandals, my feet splashing through quickly forming puddles. By the time I reach our porch, I’m drenched, my golden accessories glinting in the porch light. My hand trembles as I ring the doorbell.

It swings open as my pulse races, and there he is. My dad looks incredible in jeans and a simple black t-shirt, the fabric stretched taut over his broad shoulders and muscular arms.

His brow furrows. “Eve?” he says, concern written on his face. “You’re soaked.”

“Trick or treat, Daddy,” I say, in my cutest voice despite the hornet’s nest in my stomach.

He hesitates for a moment, studying me with a serious expression. “Come in before you get sick,” he finally says, stepping aside.

I squeeze past him as I enter, not caring if I get him wet. If I get him wet enough, maybe he’ll have to just take his clothes off? The house is warm and inviting, smelling faintly of cinnamon and something I’ve always considered uniquely my dad.

He grabs a fluffy towel from a nearby closet and hands it to me. “Here, dry off,” he insists, his authoritative tone pulling at something deep in my core.

I take the towel but ignore his order to use it as water drips onto his floor. “You look great,” I murmur, stepping closer.

I can feel the heat radiating from him, or maybe it’s just my body responding to his closeness. My free hand reaches out, fingers trailing along his forearm. I feel his muscles quiver under my touch, sending a thrill through me, but he pulls away slightly.

“You shouldn’t be touching me like that,” he says, his voice edged with restraint. That tone… it makes me want to drop to my knees and offer to be his good little girl, to give him whatever he wants.

Despite the flutter in my chest, I respond boldly. “But I want to—and more.”

His eyes flick down to my breasts, where the wet fabric clings, clearly showing I’m not wearing a bra. When he looks up, there’s a flash of lust in his eyes before it’s replaced with a fierceness. “You’re cold. You need to dry off,” he replies firmly. “Then you’re going up to your room.”

His resistance is turning me on even more, and I feel a corresponding pull deep in my belly. I saw the lust—he wants me. There’s no way I’m stopping now. I’m trembling as the electricity crackling between us making my skin tingle. How he’s making me feel strengthens my determination.

“I’m not cold,” I pout, pretending to be innocent. “I want you.” His gaze darkens, and he licks his lips. It gives me the courage to continue. “You don’t have to be gentle with me, Daddy. I can handle it.”

A primal look crosses his face, and he steps closer. “Babygirl, you have no idea what you’re asking for.”

My head spins from being this close to him, and I whisper, “Then show me, Daddy. Teach me.”

He pauses for three long heartbeats as I silently pray to all the gods. Please, don’t let him reject me.