Don’t Wear Panties, Tonight.

Daddy's Plus Size Addiction - (4)

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NATALIE

I had no idea how much time had passed since my sexy-as-sin father-in-law had walked out, leaving me empty in a way I had never felt before.

Vincenzo had woken every inch of me.

I could still feel his goddamn fingers inside me. He’d left me desperate for more, and there was no possible way Luca could quench the fire he’d started.

I caught myself before my hand could slide down my stomach and slip between my thighs, grinding my legs together instead.

I was soaked and trembling, my pussy throbbing with a raw, agonizing ache to be filled and stretched.

I was supposed to feel dirty. Humiliated. Ashamed.

You’d think that would’ve been the easy part, wouldn’t you?

I should’ve been wondering whether I’d completely lost my damn mind for craving him this badly. I should’ve hated myself for wanting him, for loving the way his thick, rough fingers had left me desperate for something he refused to give me, for wishing he’d finished what he’d started.

But I couldn’t.

God, I tried.

I waited for the guilt to hit. For the shame to crawl up my throat and choke me. For my brain to remember that this man was my husband’s father.

Nothing.

Not a damn thing.

Every thought pulled me right back to him.

His voice.

His eyes—the terrifying certainty in them.

The way he looked at me as though I’d stopped being Luca’s wife the second he put his hands on me.

As though I already belonged to him. His dirty little whore, kept on edge and desperate, existing for no one but him.

That should’ve been enough to scare the life out of me. Something so wrong had no business feeling that damn right.

I forced myself up from the table on shaky legs, clearing the wine bottle and empty glasses just to give my hands something to do while the heat tore through me.

Then I dragged my feet over to the couch and lay back, my eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Silence hung over the living room as I fought myself.

Maybe I’d already lost..

Soon, Luca would be home. Just thinking about facing him tied my stomach in knots. Before I could spiral any further, my phone buzzed beside me. My throat went dry.

Vincenzo.

I should have ignored it. Instead, I opened the message.

Don’t wear panties under your dress tonight, Natalie. Show up to dinner bare.

Another notification appeared before I could react.

If you disobey me, you’ll regret it.

I locked the screen at once and set the phone facedown.

My chest heaved as I stared at it, every instinct telling me to throw the damn phone against the wall. But his warning refused to leave my head.

I still didn’t know what Vincenzo wanted from me.

God, I was desperate to find out.

I’d have to look my husband in the eye after moaning for his father. He wouldn’t have the slightest clue how completely his father had wrecked me.

As if the universe had chosen the worst possible moment, I heard a car roll into the driveway.

The engine went quiet. I held my breath.

Panic seized me.

Not long ago, I’d wanted Luca to walk in and find me sprawled naked on this couch.

Not anymore.

I jumped to my feet and bolted for the staircase.

I barely made it a few steps before the front door swung open.

Luca stepped inside, a duffel bag hanging from one shoulder. He shoved the door shut with his foot, absently raking a hand through his dark hair as he stepped into the living room. The stubble lining his jaw made him look older, wearier, than when he’d left two weeks ago.

For a heartbeat, he looked exactly like the man I’d fallen hopelessly in love with.

Then his eyes found me.

He stopped in his tracks.

For one impossible second, hope stirred inside me.

Maybe he’d finally see me. Maybe he’d smile. Walk over. Kiss me. 

Maybe this nightmare we’d been calling a marriage was finally over.

Maybe—

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, his brows knitting together.

The hope vanished as quickly as it had come.

“I…” My hand flew between my legs, trying to hide myself. “I wanted to surprise you.”

His gaze swept over my body, but there was no hunger in his eyes.

No longing.

Nothing.

He looked away almost as quickly as he’d looked at me, his attention drifting toward the hallway instead.

“It’s our anniversary,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I sent the staff away for the weekend. So we could... spend some time together.”

He ignored me, walking farther into the living room. He dropped his duffel bag against the wall with a thud and loosened the knot of his tie.

“I thought we could have dinner together. Just the two of us.”

Luca let out a long, exhausted breath and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’ve been stuck on fucking planes, buried in useless meetings, and living out of hotel rooms for two weeks.” He finally looked at me again. “The last thing I wanted to come home to was… this.”

His hand gestured vaguely toward my naked body, a flick of his fingers like he was waving away an annoying fly. The words landed harder than if he’d shouted.

There was no anger in his voice.

Just cold, suffocating indifference.

​“Go put some fucking clothes on,” he said flatly, already turning toward the bar.

“I thought maybe…” My voice cracked. “Maybe we could actually have sex for once! Is that so insane? It’s been years, Luca!”

A hollow, mocking laugh escaped him as he poured himself a drink, not even turning around.

“Sex?” He shook his head, taking a slow sip. “Jesus, Natalie! You seriously think pulling a desperate stunt like this is going to make me want you? It’s pathetic.”

His words hit harder than a slap. Shame burned through me.

​“I just wanted to feel like your wife again!” I snapped, tears of pure rage blurring my vision. “I’m sick of being an afterthought in my own house!”

“Don’t piss me off, Natalie. I’m too tired for your dramatic bullshit tonight.”

I stared at him, unable to move. He picked up his bag, taking his time, and brushed right past me without another glance.

Not once did he touch me.

Not once did he even hesitate.

Then something bright against the collar of his white shirt caught my eye.

A vivid red lipstick mark.

The unmistakable imprint of another woman’s lips.

I froze.