LOGINDavid's bedroom was exactly what I'd imagined—dark wood furniture, king-sized bed with expensive sheets, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the backyard. The same backyard where we'd had family barbecues. Where Ethan had proposed to me three years ago.
I pushed the thought away.
David closed the door behind us, and the click of the lock made my stomach flip.
"Take off the dress," he commanded, leaning against the door, arms crossed. "Slowly."
My hands trembled as I reached for the hem. I'd never stripped for anyone before, not like this. Ethan had never asked. But something about the way David watched me—like I was the only thing in the world that mattered—made me want to put on a show.
I pulled the dress up slowly, revealing my thighs, my hips, my stomach. His eyes tracked every inch of exposed skin. When I lifted it over my head and let it drop to the floor, I stood completely naked before him.
"Fuck," he breathed. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined."
"You imagined me?"
"Every night for the past six months." He pushed off the door, stalking toward me. "Every time you came to my house in those tight jeans. Every time you bent over to get something from the fridge. Every time you called me 'Dad' at family dinners, all I could think about was bending you over and making you call me Daddy for entirely different reasons."
Six months. He'd wanted me for six months.
"I thought I was crazy," I whispered.
"You're not crazy, baby girl. You just married the wrong man." His fingers traced my collarbone, down between my breasts. "My son doesn't deserve you. Doesn't appreciate what he has."
"And you do?"
His hand wrapped around my throat—not squeezing, just holding. Possessive. "I'm going to worship every inch of you. I'm going to make you come so many times you forget your own name. And then I'm going to ruin you so thoroughly that no other man will ever be enough. Starting now."
He backed me toward the bed and I fell onto it, bouncing slightly on the mattress. David stood at the foot of the bed, eyes raking over my naked body spread before him.
"Touch yourself," he ordered. "Show me how you do it when you're alone. When you're thinking about me."
My face burned, but I was too turned on to be embarrassed. My hand slid down my stomach, between my legs. I was already soaking wet again, despite just having been fucked against his entryway table.
"That's it. Spread those legs wider. Let Daddy see that pretty pussy."
I obeyed, opening my thighs, circling my clit with my fingers while he watched.
"You do this at night, don't you? While my son sleeps next to you." He started unbuttoning his shirt. "Touch that pussy and think about me."
"Yes," I moaned. "God, yes, all the time—"
"What do you think about?" His shirt hit the floor, revealing a chest more muscular than I'd expected. He was fit for forty-eight, clearly took care of himself.
"I think about you bending me over. Making me beg. Calling me your good girl while you fuck me."
"And does that make you come hard, baby?"
"So hard," I whimpered, fingers moving faster now.
He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants. "You want to see what you do to me? How hard Daddy gets thinking about his son's wife?"
"Please."
He shoved his pants and boxers down, and his cock sprang free. I'd felt it inside me, but seeing it was different. Thick, long, already hard and leaking at the tip. So much bigger than Ethan's.
"Like what you see?"
"Yes, Daddy."
He wrapped his hand around it, stroking slowly. "Stop touching yourself. That's Daddy's job now."
I pulled my hand away, whimpering at the loss.
David climbed onto the bed, settling between my spread thighs. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer to his face.
"Has my son ever eaten this pussy properly?"
Before I could answer, his tongue was on me.
I cried out, back arching off the bed. Ethan had gone down on me maybe five times in three years of marriage, and never with any real enthusiasm. This was different. David devoured me like he was starving for it. His tongue circled my clit, flicked it, sucked it between his lips. His fingers spread me open, giving him better access.
"Oh fuck, oh God—" My hands fisted in his hair.
He looked up at me, eyes dark. "You taste so fucking sweet, baby girl. Could eat this pussy for hours."
And he nearly did.
He brought me to the edge over and over, backing off just before I could come. His tongue worked me expertly, finding every sensitive spot, learning what made me gasp and moan.
"Please," I begged. "Please, Daddy, let me come—"
"Not yet." He pushed two fingers inside me, curling them. "I want you desperate first. Want you so needy you'll do anything I ask."
"I'll do anything! Please, just—"
"Anything?" His thumb pressed against my clit while his fingers pumped. "You'll be Daddy's good little slut? Let me use this tight pussy whenever I want?"
"Yes! God, yes—"
"You'll sneak away from family dinners to let me fuck you? Come to my house every day your husband's at work?"
"Yes, Daddy, anything, please—"
He added a third finger and I nearly screamed. The stretch was intense, preparing me.
"That's my good girl. Now come on Daddy's face."
His mouth latched onto my clit, sucking hard, and I exploded. The orgasm crashed through me in waves, my pussy clenching around his fingers, my thighs trembling. I actually screamed this time, not caring who heard.
David didn't stop. Just kept licking, kept fingering me through it until I was sobbing with overstimulation.
"Please, it's too much—"
"You can take it." His fingers curled, hitting some spot inside me that made stars burst behind my eyes. "Come again. Give Daddy another one."
"I can't—"
The call with Marcus ended, but the echo of his voice still hung in the air like smoke.Damon stayed buried deep inside me, his cock twitching as the last of his cum leaked out. I was a mess — flushed, trembling, my pussy still pulsing around him, full of him. The guilt hit me like a wave, but it was drowned out by the heat, the thrill, the way my body was still humming from how hard he’d just fucked me while talking to my ex-husband.“You’re insane,” I whispered, half-laughing, half-terrified. “What if he heard?”Damon kissed me slow and deep, his hand sliding up to cup my breast, thumb brushing my nipple. “He didn’t. And even if he did… I don’t care anymore.” His voice was rough, possessive. “You’re not his. You’re mine now.”He started moving again — slow, lazy thrusts, like he couldn’t bear to pull out. I moaned softly, my legs wrapping tighter around him. Every slide of his thick cock sent sparks through me, my oversensitive walls fluttering around him.“Damon… we just finished,”
The morning after, I woke up tangled in Damon’s sheets, his arm heavy around my waist, his breath warm against the back of my neck. My body ached in the best way — thighs sore, pussy still tender and slick from how many times he’d taken me during the night. I could feel the evidence of him between my legs, sticky and warm, a constant reminder that I’d crossed a line I could never uncross.I turned in his arms and found him already awake, watching me with those intense hazel eyes. No regret. Just heat. Possession. Something deeper that made my stomach flutter.“Morning,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep. His hand slid down my side, cupping my ass and pulling me closer. His cock was already half-hard against my thigh.“Morning,” I whispered back, kissing him softly. The kiss quickly deepened, his tongue sliding against mine, his hand squeezing my ass harder. I moaned into his mouth, my body responding instantly, wetness pooling between my thighs again.He rolled me onto my back, sett
He pushed inside me slowly, inch by thick inch, and my breath caught in my throat.The stretch was everything. Damon was big — thicker than I’d expected, filling me so completely that for a second I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Just feel. The burn was sharp at first, then melted into this deep, aching fullness that made my toes curl against the sheets. I could feel every ridge, every vein as he sank deeper, my walls fluttering around him, trying to adjust.“Fuck, Aria,” he groaned, forehead pressed to mine. His voice was rough, strained, like it was taking everything in him not to thrust hard. “You’re so tight. So fucking perfect.”I whimpered, my hands sliding up his back, nails digging into his skin as he bottomed out. He stayed there for a long moment, buried to the hilt, letting me feel all of him. The weight of his body on mine, the heat of his skin, the way his cock throbbed inside me — it was overwhelming in the best way. I felt claimed. Wanted. Like every inch of me was f
He stood up, lifting me with him like I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around his waist as he carried me down the hall to his bedroom. The room was masculine and clean — dark wood, big bed, city lights glowing through the windows. He laid me down gently, then climbed over me, kissing me again.This kiss was slower. Deeper. His tongue stroked mine like he was savoring me. One of his hands slid up my thigh, pushing my dress higher, fingers brushing the edge of my lace panties. I arched into him, needy and aching.“Damon… please,” I whispered.He groaned, kissing down my neck, sucking lightly at my pulse point. “Tell me what you need, Aria. I’ve waited so long. I want to hear it.”I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. “I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me like you mean it. Like I’m yours.”His eyes darkened. He sat back and pulled my dress up and off in one smooth motion, leaving me in just my black lace bra and panties. His gaze raked over me hungrily.“Jesus Ch
ARIAThe next few days were torture.Damon texted me the morning after he left my apartment. Simple. Direct. *Tomorrow night. My place. 8 PM. No pressure.* I stared at the message for twenty minutes before replying with a single word: *Okay.*I spent the whole day nervous, changing my outfit three times, shaving everything, putting on the kind of lace underwear I hadn’t worn since the honeymoon phase with Marcus. By the time I pulled up to his sleek modern house on the edge of the city, my hands were shaking on the steering wheel.He opened the door before I could even knock.Damon stood there in a dark gray button-down, sleeves rolled up, looking like sin wrapped in expensive fabric. His eyes dragged over me slowly — the simple black dress that hugged my curves, the way my hair fell loose over my shoulders. No words at first. Just that heavy, loaded stare that made my thighs press together.“Come in,” he said, voice low.The house smelled like him — woodsy cologne, fresh coffee, some
I arched into him, my fingers tightening in his hair, but something in my chest tightened too. The guilt. The reality of who he was. I wasn’t ready to feel cheap. Not yet. Not like this.“Wait,” I breathed, gently pushing at his shoulders. My voice was shaky, my body screaming at me to let him keep going. “Damon… stop. I can’t. Not like this. Not right now.”He pulled back immediately, breathing hard, eyes dark with lust and confusion. His lips were swollen from our kiss, his cock still straining obscenely against his pants. “Aria… talk to me. What’s wrong?”I tugged my shirt back down, suddenly self-conscious, even though my nipples were still tight and aching. My pussy was throbbing, soaked and empty. I wanted him so badly it hurt. But jumping straight into this felt wrong. Like I was just the rebound. The forbidden fruit he’d always wanted but never had.“I just… I don’t want to be the girl who fucks her ex-husband’s brother five minutes after he walks through the door,” I admitted
Lila’s POVI was addicted now. Every night Mom was away I slipped into Connor’s bedroom after the house went quiet. He’d be waiting—door cracked, lamp low—and I’d crawl into their marital bed like it belonged to me. He fucked me raw on Mom’s side of the sheets, deep and slow, whispering things th
Lila’s POVI’ve hated Connor since the day Mom married him two years ago. He walked into our house like he already owned it—broad shoulders filling every doorway, voice low and calm when he spoke to Mom, but always with that edge that made me feel small. He called me “princess” the first time we
AVA'S POVTRIGGER WARNING; TABOO, SEX WITH COUSIN I spent all day pretending nothing happened. Smiling at the aunties while I carried plates of potato salad and coleslaw to the picnic tables. Helping Dad flip burgers on the grill, the smoke stinging my eyes while I laughed at his dumb jokes abou
Midnight came slow.I slipped out—bare feet on cool grass, moonlight silver on the lake. The dock stretched dark and empty. Waves lapped soft against the pilings. Crickets hummed. I told myself I just needed air.Ryan was waiting.He leaned against the boat railing—shirt off, jeans low, moonlight c







