All Chapters of All For You, Daddy: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

William Jones is known as the Lord of the Manor.He's in his forties, but he looks twenty-five. Has been our landlord for years now, and my family haven't been able to foster a stable relationship with him. Would you blame him? His position is at the top, and we're below.When he serves us an eviction notice after days of Papa playing him, we're helpless. We have nothing to offer in exchange for ridiculous amount of rent we owe.Nothing but me.Passion is a very funny business, and neither of us expected the surge of adrenaline that engulfs us from the very first touch. But William harbors demons far stronger than my angelic light. Will I truly teach the Lord how to love again? Or will I be defeated in this cold battle?------------1: Grace.The Lord comes to collect today.That's what my parents call our landlord, anyway. They've called him that for so long that it stuck. Now everyone in the neighborhood calls him that, crossing themselves behind his back. Or running and hiding in t

"You think I'm a softie?" My voice is deceptively gentle when the rest of me is so hard. "Do you know why I pulled over?""Why?" she says, seeming to hold her breath.Don't you dare. She's innocent. I say the words, anyway, however. I want to drive her away. Now. She caught me with my walls down and that is the ultimate invasion, made worse because I crave it happening again. "I pulled over because I know tight pussy when I see it." I frame her jaw with my right hand, tilting her blushing face up toward mine. "I'd like to fuck you on all fours, right here in the middle of the road, little girl. Rough as you can stand. Still think I'm a softie?""No," she gasps, the green of her eyes deepening to a forest shade. "I don't."I ignore the regret stabbing me in the neck. "Good."She tugs her chin out of my hold, skirts around me and continues walking up the road, arms stiff at her sides. I'm monetarily dumbfounded by the sense of loss I experience without her in front of me—and then I'm tu

Why does this girl insist on trying to endear herself to me?She gasps at the sight of my living room and the downstairs kitchen on our way to the pool, stopping to gawk and turn in slow circles. Stumbling into furniture because she's so distracted by the chandeliers mounted to the high ceilings. I don't like the way my chest tightens over these things. It's odd and alarming.Who is this girl?I want to know everything about her, down to her blood type, but at the same time, I'm terrified of knowing too much. Making her too real to me. I'm already way outside of my comfort zone having her in my home for the night. I told myself I just wanted to fuck her, but here I am, giving her a tour of my house. Needing to see her swimming. Wanting to give her this thing she's been deprived of.Those urges are a warning sign that this girl is creeping into uncharted territory. I learned a long time ago that personal attachments are a weakness. A desire for affection, connection with another person

I pull the belt tighter around the fluffy, cream-colored robe and creep down the seemingly endless hallway. There really is no reason to creep, but the ceilings are so high, the art on the walls looks so expensive and it's eerily quiet. I feel as though I'm in a library or a museum, so I try not to make a sound, my purpose made easier by the thick rugs arranged on the hallway floor.Where am I going? I have no idea—and I might even be lost. After William left the pool room, I followed a few moments later and promptly lost my way in the labyrinth William calls home. Who needs this many rooms? Or bathrooms, for that matter? Every one is pristine and decorated expensively, just waiting for someone to arrive and enjoy. No one ever will, however, because the man who owns this house is so damaged on the inside, he can only drive people away.When William unzipped his pants in front of me, I could see his intentions clear as day. God help me, knowing he was trying to scare me off only made m

This house feels different with her inside of it.I've never wanted to be around another person...at all.Let alone so fucking badly. She's like a steady heartbeat in the middle of a gale, the purity of it, the reassurance of her, drawing me closer. Closer.I thought telling her about my past might make her understand why I'm such a bastard—and why I'll continue to be one. But she clammed up when I tried to kiss her. Have I ruined anything that might happen between us? If I could turn back the clock an hour and change my actions, I would. I'd allow the perfect exploration of her mouth on my cock without turning it into something forceful.Better yet, I'd go down on her instead.My dick is already hard from being close to Grace, but it swells painfully when I think of getting my tongue between her thighs. Now that will be an effective apology. Far better than words. But first, I have another impulse that is entirely unlike me. I want to...be sensitive with this girl. Whatever the hell