MasukThree weeks.
It had been three weeks since I first went to David's house, and I hadn't gone a single day without him inside me.
I was obsessed. Addicted. Completely and utterly ruined for anyone else.
Ethan still had no idea. He went to work every morning at eight, came home at six, and never questioned why I seemed happier lately. Never wondered why I suddenly wanted to shower alone, or why I'd started doing my own laundry.
If he'd bothered to look, he would've seen the bite marks on my thighs. The fingerprint bruises on my hips. The whisker burn between my breasts.
But Ethan never looked.
David did, though. David looked at me like I was the only woman in the world. Like he wanted to devour me whole and savor every bite.
My phone buzzed on the kitchen counter.
David: Office. One hour. Wear that black skirt I like.
My pulse quickened. It was Tuesday, which meant Ethan wouldn't be home until after seven. I had plenty of time.
Me: Yes, Daddy.
I changed quickly—black pencil skirt, white blouse, heels. No bra. No panties. Just like he preferred.
The drive to his house felt eternal. My thighs were already slick with anticipation by the time I pulled into his driveway.
He opened the door before I could knock, eyes raking over me with that familiar hunger.
"You wore it."
"I always do what Daddy tells me."
Something dark flashed in his eyes. Without a word, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside, slamming the door behind us.
His mouth was on mine instantly, rough and demanding. I melted into him, my hands fisting in his shirt.
"Missed you," he growled against my lips.
"You had me yesterday morning."
"That was twelve hours ago. Too long." His hand slid under my skirt, finding me bare and wet. "Fuck, baby girl. You're soaked already."
"I've been thinking about you all morning."
"Yeah? What were you thinking about?" He pushed two fingers inside me and I gasped.
"About you bending me over your desk. Making me scream."
"Mmm." He pumped his fingers slowly, torturously. "I can arrange that."
He pulled his fingers out and I whimpered at the loss. But then he was leading me down the hall to his home office—a room I'd never been in before.
It was masculine, professional. Dark wood desk, leather chair, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The window overlooked the backyard.
"Bend over the desk," David commanded, closing the door behind us.
I obeyed, the cool wood pressing against my cheek as I laid my chest flat. My ass was in the air, skirt riding up.
I heard him move behind me, heard the clink of his belt buckle. My pussy clenched in anticipation.
"Spread your legs wider." His hand smoothed over my ass, squeezing. "That's it. Show Daddy what's his."
His fingers traced through my wetness, teasing my entrance but not pushing in.
"Please," I whimpered.
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me, Daddy."
"Not yet." He circled my clit with agonizing slowness. "You're going to wait until I'm good and ready."
I bit my lip to keep from begging more. He liked when I was patient, when I let him take his time.
His fingers left my pussy and I felt them somewhere else—somewhere I'd never been touched before.
"David—"
"Shh." He pressed lightly against my asshole, just teasing. "Relax, baby girl. Not today. But soon. I'm going to claim every part of you."
The thought should've scared me. Instead, it made me wetter.
Finally—finally—I felt the thick head of his cock pressing against my entrance.
"You ready for Daddy's cock?"
"Yes, please, I need—"
He slammed in without warning.
I cried out, hands scrambling for purchase on the smooth desk. He was so deep from this angle, hitting places that made my vision blur.
"That's it, take it all." His hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise. "Such a good little slut for me."
He set a brutal pace, the desk creaking with every thrust. Papers scattered to the floor. A pen rolled off the edge.
"You love this, don't you? Love being Daddy's whore."
"Yes! Fuck, yes—"
My phone rang.
We both froze. I glanced at the screen sitting on the desk next to my face.
Ethan.
"Don't answer it," I gasped.
David pulled out slowly, then slammed back in. "Answer it."
"What? No—"
"Answer the phone, Mia. Let my son hear how good you can be." He thrust again, making me moan. "Do it. Now."
With shaking hands, I grabbed the phone and hit answer.
"H-hello?"
"Hey, babe." Ethan's voice was cheerful, completely oblivious. "Just calling to say I'll be late tonight. Got stuck in a meeting."
David pulled back and drove in hard. I bit my lip to stifle the moan.
"Oh. Okay."
"You alright? You sound weird."
"Fine," I managed. David's hand snaked around, finding my clit. "Just—just exercising."
"That's good. You've seemed really happy lately. Whatever you're doing, keep it up."
If he only knew.
David leaned over me, his chest against my back, his breath hot in my ear. "Tell him you love him," he whispered, still fucking me slowly, deliberately.
I shook my head frantically.
His fingers pinched my clit and I gasped. "Say it," he mouthed.
"I—I love you, Ethan."
"Love you too, babe. See you tonight."
He hung up.
The second the call ended, David yanked the phone from my hand and tossed it aside. His hand wrapped around my throat, pulling me up against his chest while he fucked me harder.
"Such a good liar," he growled in my ear. "Telling my son you love him while you're stuffed full of my cock."
"I'm sorry—"
"Don't be sorry. It's fucking hot." He bit down on my shoulder, marking me. "You're mine. He just doesn't know it yet."
His fingers found my clit again, rubbing harsh circles. The orgasm built fast and sharp.
"Gonna come on my cock while thinking about lying to your husband?"
"Yes, fuck, yes—"
"That's my dirty girl. Come for me."
The orgasm ripped through me and I sagged in his arms, only his grip keeping me upright. My pussy clenched around him, milking his cock.
"Fuck, so tight." His rhythm faltered. "Gonna fill this pussy up. You want Daddy's cum?"
"Please, give it to me—"
He pushed inside me slowly, inch by thick inch, and the world narrowed to just this — the stretch, the fullness, the way my body opened for him like it had been waiting for this exact moment.I gasped, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he filled me. Viktor was big. Thicker than I’d expected, longer, the head of his cock pressing deep until I felt him in places I didn’t even know existed. The burn was sharp at first, a delicious sting that made my breath catch, but then it melted into this deep, aching pleasure that had my toes curling against the sheets.“Fuck, Yvonne,” 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 legs wrapping tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. 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 —
He groaned softly into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me. His hand on my hip tightened, pulling me even closer. The kiss turned hungrier, his tongue stroking mine in a way that made heat pool low in my belly. I could feel myself getting wet, my nipples tightening against the fabric of my dress.When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard. His forehead rested against mine, his hand still cupping my neck.“I’ve been thinking about that kiss since the conference room,” he said, voice rough. “About how you tasted. How you sounded when you moaned into my mouth.”I shivered. “Viktor…”“Tell me you want this,” he said, thumb brushing my lower lip again. “Tell me you want me to touch you. Really touch you.”I did. God, I did. But the words stuck in my throat for a second.“I want you,” I whispered finally. “But I’m scared. This is all so fast. I don’t want to feel like I’m just… fulfilling a contract.”His eyes softened just a fraction. “This stopped being about the contra
The elevator ride up to Viktor’s penthouse was silent except for the soft hum of the machine and the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears.He stood beside me, tall and imposing, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back. Not possessive. Not yet. Just… there. A reminder that this was real. The contract was signed. I was his wife now, at least on paper.The doors opened directly into the penthouse, and I stepped out, trying not to gape. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the glittering city lights. Dark wood and sleek modern furniture made the space feel masculine and expensive. It smelled like him — that same dark, woodsy cologne that had wrapped around me in the conference room.“Home,” Viktor said simply, closing the doors behind us. His voice was low, calm, but there was an undercurrent to it that made my skin prickle.I walked further into the living room, my heels clicking on the marble floor. “It’s beautiful.”He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he watched me. I could f
The contract sat between us on the polished mahogany table like a loaded gun.I stared at it, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. The words blurred on the page — one year of marriage, public appearances, shared living, no real intimacy required unless both parties agreed. At the bottom, two signature lines waited. One already had his bold, sharp signature.Viktor Kane.Forty-two years old. Billionaire. Ruthless. The man who had been my late father’s biggest rival… and now, apparently, my future husband.I was twenty-two. Fresh out of university. Drowning in debt from my father’s failed company. And apparently, this was the only way to save what was left of my family’s name.“You don’t have to do this,” my mother had whispered before I left the house this morning, her eyes red. But we both knew I did. The alternative was bankruptcy, humiliation, and watching everything my father built crumble.Viktor sat across from me now, calm as ever, one long finger tapping the ta
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,”
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