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 dirty talk makes me clench. "Yes. Please."He kisses me, and I can taste myself on his tongue. It should be weird but it's not—it's hot, filthy in the best way."Let me get a condom," he says, pulling back."I'm on the pill," I say quickly. "And I'm clean. I got tested after my last... I haven't been with anyone in months."He goes very still. "Are you sure?""Are you clean?""Yes. I got tested after my divorce was finalized. Haven't been with anyone since.""Then I'm sure," I say. "I want to feel you. Just you. No barriers."He closes his eyes, jaw clenching. "You're going to kill me.""Good way to go though."He laughs despite himself, and then he's kissing me again while he works his jeans open. I help him push them down along with his boxers, and then—
The fact that he's asking—that even now, he's checking for consent—makes my chest tight."Yes," I whisper.He unhooks it with practiced ease, slides the straps down my arms. When it falls away, I'm bare from the waist up, and the way he's looking at me makes me feel powerful and vulnerable all at once."Perfect," he says, almost to himself. Then his mouth is on me.He kisses across my collarbone, down to the swell of my breast. When his lips close around my nipple, I arch into him with a gasp."Sensitive," he murmurs against my skin. "I'll remember that."He lavishes attention on both breasts, alternating between gentle sucking and harder pressure that makes me squirm. His other hand slides down my stomach, pops the button of my jeans."These need to come off too," he says.I lift my hips and he slides the
This kiss is different from the ones in his office.Those were desperate. Frantic. Born from weeks of denied attraction finally snapping.This one is... deliberate. Certain.He cups my face in both hands, tilts my head up, and kisses me like he has all the time in the world. Like he's trying to memorize the taste of me. His tongue slides against mine, slow and thorough, and I melt into him.His body is solid against mine. I can feel every inch of him—the hard planes of his chest, the strength in his arms, the way his heart is racing just as fast as mine.When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard."Bedroom," he says, voice rough.I nod.He takes my hand—such a simple gesture, but it makes my chest ache—and leads me down the hallway.His bedroom is just as organized as
I almost turned back three times on the drive to his apartment.Once at the first red light, when the reality of what I was doing hit me like cold water. Once when I was two blocks away and my hands started shaking so badly I had to pull over. And once when I was sitting in his parking garage, staring at the address he'd texted me, thinking this is insane, this is career suicide for him, this is wrong wrong wrong.But I didn't turn back.Because I'm selfish. Because I want him more than I care about the consequences. Because some part of me—the honest, ugly part—knows that if I drive away now, I'll regret it for the rest of my life.So here I am. Standing outside apartment 8C with my heart in my throat and my hands still shaking.I knock before I can change my mind.The door opens almost immediately, like he was waiting on the other side.And oh.Oh god.I've only ever seen Ethan in his therapist uniform—pressed button-downs, slacks, that careful professional polish. But right now he'
"I know what you need," he says, his hand sliding between my legs, cupping me through my panties. "Fuck, you're soaking wet.""Your fault," I gasp as he presses the heel of his hand against my clit."My fault," he agrees, and there's something dark and satisfied in his voice. "I've been thinking about making you this wet since the first session. When you crossed your legs and I tried so fucking hard not to look.""You looked," I say."I looked," he confirms, sliding my panties to the side and finally—*finally*—touching me bare. "Couldn't help it. You're too fucking perfect."His fingers circle my clit, and I nearly come apart right there. "Inside," I beg. "Please, I need—"He slides two fingers inside me, and the relief is so intense I cry out."That's it," he groans, watching my face as he fucks me with his fingers. "That's my girl. Show me how good it feels.""So good," I gasp, rolling my hips against his hand. "Ethan, fuck, don't stop—""Not stopping," he promises. "Going to make y
The elevator ride up to the eighth floor is silent and charged. We stand on opposite sides, not touching, but I can feel the electricity between us like a physical thing.When the doors open, he leads me down a carpeted hallway to a door marked 8C. His hands are shaking slightly as he unlocks it."This is—" he starts as we step inside.But I don't let him finish. I drop my bag, turn, and pull him down into another kiss.This time, there's no hesitation. He kisses me back immediately, kicking the door closed behind us and pressing me against it.His hands slide down to my thighs, and he lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist instinctively, gasping at the friction of his hard cock pressing against exactly where I need it."Bedroom," I manage between kisses."Can't," he groans, grinding against me. "Can't wait that long.""Then don't," I say, and that's all the permission he needs.He carries me—actually carries me—to the couch, laying me down and covering my body with his. The weight







