Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
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Rebekkah hummed a sprightly tune as she danced around the kitchen. There wasn't much variety in her father's pantry, but there was enough for a simple breakfast. She set a pot of water on the stove to boil, then placed a half-dozen strips of turkey bacon in a skillet and turned the heat to medium.
While those were doing their thing, she opened the fridge in search of something lighter and healthier for herself. Samson--a little shiver of pleasure raced down her spine when Rebekkah thought of her father by his first name--could get away with eating tons of fat and protein, but she was a plain, ordinary human who had to watch her weight. She was already pudgy enough without a baby on the way.
"Hmm," she mused. "Some wilted spinach, a mostly-empty jar of strawberry jam, and a tub of hummus." Bekkah wiggled from side to side in sync with her humming as she surveyed the options. "Not much to choose from. Oh, wait." She spun away from the fridge, kicking it closed as she did, and darted out into the backyard.
Sure enough, a handful of ripe apples still dangled from a tree a little distance off from the porch. "Yes!" Bekkah cheered. Then she eyed the tree. The lowest apple she could see was a good seven or eight feet off the ground. She could climb the tree, but a brisk autumn breeze brought goosebumps to her bare skin. Yeah, no. She'd need to get dressed first, and she didn't want to until she had to. "I'll ask Dad to grab a couple for me."
Rebekkah turned around and stepped back into the cabin, only to bounce off a broad, bare chest. Strong arms wrapped around her, keeping her from falling. "Careful where you're going, angel," her father told her. He smiled down at her through his short salt-and-pepper beard. "You want some apples?"
A blush, part embarrassment, part arousal, bloomed on Bekkah's cheeks. One of her dad's big, callused hands was kneading her bare ass, making it hard to think. If her nipples weren't already stiff from the chilly morning air, it'd be making them hard too. "Um, yes, Sir. Please," she managed to force out. Samson chuckled and flexed his arms, causing a squeal of surprise to escape Bekkah as he lifted her onto his shoulders, straddling the back of his neck.
Rebekkah wrapped her legs tight around her father and leaned into his head to maintain her balance as he started to walk. Her actions also had the effect of grinding her bare pussy against her father's skin. She felt her blush growing hotter.
God, he's so strong,
she thought to herself.
I'm not the lightest girl, but he didn't even strain to lift me.
An image flitted through Bekkah's mind of her father holding her, his hands under her knees, her back to his chest, as he fucked her standing up.
Okay, we're trying that one
, she decided with an unconscious flick of her tongue across her lips. "If you don't want breakfast to burn, you'd best get to pickin', Bekkah." Samson's voice rumbled through Rebekkah's groin. She bit back a whimper of arousal, although there was no way her father couldn't feel her wetness soaking into his neck.
"Yes, Sir," she said and looked up into the tree branches. There were a few apples within reach. Bekkah steadied herself with one hand on her father's head and pulled down an armful. "This will do for now. Eep!" No sooner did she finish than he plucked her from his shoulders and into a bridal carry. One of her arms cradled the apples to her chest while the other wrapped around his neck.
Rebekkah lost herself in her father's eyes as he gazed down at her. Within those cerulean depths swam happiness, pride, appreciation, and no small amount of lust, among other positive emotions. Under all those, though, there was a lurking shadow piercing Bekkah right to her soul. "Dad," she said as he walked back toward the house, "I'm happy. Here, with you."
Bekkah wasn't dumb, and the mate bond didn't make her blind to emotions. She knew where the darkness in his heart came from. "I can't say I wanted this," she continued, speaking with slow, careful diction. "I wouldn't have chosen it. But," she hurried on, trying to interrupt the pain those words would cause, "not for why you think. I never thought of you, um, like that, but my plans always involved living near you."
Rebekkah nuzzled her cheek against her father's shoulder. "I love you, Dad. I always have, and even without the bond, I always would have. You were the best dad in the world to me. You always supported me and cheered me on without making me feel like your love depended on my success." His arms tightened around her a tiny bit. Bekkah allowed herself a tentative smile. Happiness bloomed within her when her father's lips twisted up at the corners.
"I know you treated Mom very well, too. When I started growing out," Bekkah bounced her breasts with her arm for emphasis, then blushed as her father's eyes dipped down to watch, "we had a long talk about men and boys. She told me about how you met, a bunch of your dates, that kind of thing. And she talked about the bond. Not much, but I know she was the one who approached you about it."
A deep breath caused Bekkah's chest to swell. Samson's eyes didn't even twitch toward her bare assets this time. She let her breath out in a sigh. "Dad, she talked about how things were different before and after you bonded with her. About how much control you
could
have had over her and how little you exerted. I think she wanted to scare me off of finding my own sexy werewolf." Her father's smile faded.
Damn it, stop reminding him of what happened to me,
she scolded herself.
By this time, they were back in the cabin. Samson knelt and set Rebekkah on her feet. Before he could stand up again, she darted forward and gave him a quick, firm kiss. "Dad, unless you've had a big change of heart in the last few years, I'm not afraid of you taking advantage of me. Mom told me your rules. Do they apply to me, too?"
Bekkah's father looked at her with those proud, mournful eyes for a second longer before crushing her against his chest. "Darlin', you can set the rules however you want."
