Only Good Girls Get Orgasms.

DADDY'S PLUS SIZE ADDICTION - 3

~ ~ ~

VINCENZO  

My question hung between us like a loaded gun.

My gaze dragged over her soft curves. I’d fantasized about that body more times than I cared to admit. I’d jerked my cock imagining it down Natalie’s throat, filling every hole in her body.

Natalie was my son’s wife. The woman I was supposed to see as family. The one woman I had no goddamn right to want.

I should’ve felt guilty. Anything but the godforsaken throbbing in my pants and the savage hunger clawing at my insides like a starving beast.

What kind of sick bastard looked at his own son’s wife and wanted to bury himself inside her?

Me.

I knew exactly how twisted and depraved it was. I simply didn’t give a damn.

She lay beneath me, trembling, her tight cunt squeezing my fingers 

“I asked you a fucking question, Natalie. When was the last time my son actually put his hands on you?”

“The day we got married.” Her answer came out in a ragged stutter.

Liar.

Fucking liar!

I knew my son. I made him. There was no goddamn way he'd leave a woman starving for touch sitting at home and climb into bed every night without claiming her.

I drove deeper into her, and a broken moan escaped her lips..

“You don’t get to lie to me,” I said, “Especially not with my fingers buried inside you.”

I withdrew almost completely, letting the air hit her slickness before thrusting back in with a brutal snap. Her body clenched instantly, clamping down around me.

My cock throbbed painfully against my trousers, trapped and desperate to be let out.

I clenched my jaw so hard my back teeth ached. I wasn't going to lose control. Not yet. Not like this.

“I’m telling the truth,” she cried, tears spilling over her lashes. “H-he said I’m not attractive anymore, he doesn't even look at me—”

“Is that why you’re trying to get my cock inside you? Huh?”

“I swear!” she sobbed, arching off the table. “The pictures—they were a mistake. I didn't mean to send them to you!”

I answered by thrusting deeper, wrenching another raw moan from her throat. She pushed back against my hand.

A dark, humorless smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. She insisted she hadn't meant to seduce me, but her body betrayed every lie. Her cunt moved against my hand as though it had a will of its own.

I threaded my free hand through her hair and fisted it, holding her exactly where I wanted while maintaining the slow, punishing rhythm.

"Please..." She clutched the edge of the table as her hips rocked back into my hand. "Don Vincenzo... you're his father—"

"Go on,” I taunted, circling my thumb over her swollen clit as my hand kept its slow rhythm. "Tell me to stop.”

"We can't... do this, please!"

Her back arched, her thighs spreading even wider to take me deeper.

“Are you sure? You’re obviously taking my hand like you’ve been waiting for this your whole fucking life.”

“I have...” she said, the shameful truth slipping out before she could stop it. “God, Vincenzo, please... stop!”

Her muffled moans grew louder as every muscle in her body drew taut. She trembled against me, her pelvis tilting aggressively upward.

She was teetering on the edge, one heartbeat away from shattering. I felt it in the way her body tightened.

She was seconds away.

“Vincenzo—please!”

One.

Two.

Three.

Just as she started to tip over the edge, I ripped my fingers free and stepped back. Her body twitched violently.

“That’s your punishment for lying to me and teasing me,” I said, my voice dangerously low. I lifted my wet fingers to my mouth and deliberately licked away her slick juices, refusing to waste a single drop.

“Please,” she begged.

She’d been seconds from cumming, and I had snatched that relief right out from under her.

She turned toward me slowly, breathing unevenly. Strands of blonde hair clung to her damp cheeks, framing the flushed, ruined face of a woman who hated herself for how badly she wanted more.

Her tear-streaked eyes found mine, filled with a desperate heat.

God, she was fucking beautiful.

“Only good girls get orgasms,” I said, letting my gaze rake over her naked, shivering frame one last time. “I’ll be back for dinner tonight.”

Then I turned on my heel and walked out.

~ ~ ~ 

I got into my car and slammed the door harder than I meant to. The engine roared to life, but my head—and every drop of blood in my body—was still back in that fucking house.

Fifteen minutes earlier, I had been halfway to my office when my phone buzzed against the console.

One message. Four attachments.

Nudes.

Raw, breathtakingly explicit. From Natalie.

The one woman I had spent years forcing myself to keep strictly off-limits. The one line I had sworn never to cross.

For a terrifying second, my brain short-circuited. I couldn't process what I was looking at. The curves of her body burned right through the screen.

Then the anger hit. 

Pure, white-hot, fucking rage.

I hit the brakes so hard the tires shrieked against the asphalt, jerked the wheel, and turned the car around, driving straight back across the estate to Luca’s side of the villa like a man possessed.

I had expected it to be one hell of a mistake. A prank. Anything except what I actually found waiting for me behind that unlocked door.

Natalie had been waiting. Completely naked, sprawled across the couch like she knew I would drop everything, show up within minutes, and take her right there on the cushions.

It had taken every ounce of my self-control not to unbuckle my belt, pull out my cock, and shove it straight down her throat. Every last shred of restraint I had kept me from pinning her against that leather, spreading those soft thighs wide, and fucking the absolute hell out of her until she forgot my son’s name.

Natalie had crossed a line I had spent years guarding with my life. And the terrifying part? I wasn't even sure I wanted the line back.

•••

I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned ghost-white, accelerating toward my mansion at the far end of the property.

Her sweet scent still clung to my fingers. I hit the button, lowering the window to let the cold evening air rush inside, hoping it would freeze the blood rushing to my groin.

It wasn’t enough.

My cock was pounding against my zipper, rock hard, begging for the woman whose taste was still burning on my tongue.

By the time I reached my building, my patience was completely gone, burned down to ash.

Without even getting out of the car, I pulled out my phone and dialed Luca. He answered on the third ring.

“Well?” I snapped. “You should’ve been back from Genoa by now. Did you handle the shipment?”

He started stammering out some half-assed explanation. I scoffed.

The Bellandis had interfered with one of our shipments, and I had sent my son down there to remind those miserable pieces of shit whose city they were breathing in.

Apparently, he’d failed.

Again.

“I didn’t call for excuses, Luca. I sent you there for one fucking job. Just one. You were supposed to make the Bellandis understand what happens when they interfere with the Moretti business.”

He started talking faster.

I cut him off.

“I don’t give a fuck about their excuses. I don’t care what went wrong. Fix it.”

I hung up in his ear before he could stutter another word.

Weak.

That had always been Luca’s fundamental flaw.

He had inherited my name, my wealth, and a multi-billion-dollar empire, but not a single ounce of my backbone. The only person he ever seemed capable of dominating was his own damn wife—and even then, he was too blind to realize what he had in his hands.

My jaw tightened until a muscle ticked in my cheek.

I was the one who had forced that marriage. When I found out Natalie was pregnant with Luca’s child after some drunken one-night stand, I stepped in, convinced I was doing the honorable thing.

A Moretti gets a woman pregnant, he puts a ring on her finger and claims her. End of story.

I wasn’t going to have my bloodline growing up like a bastard without a father's protection.

A month later, Luca told me she’d lost the baby. After that, all I heard were stories about him screwing other women in clubs across Milan.

It never bothered me. What Luca did with his dick wasn’t my concern. What I couldn't wrap my head around was how a man could walk out on his wife just to chase cheap thrills elsewhere.

I’d fucked more women than I could count over the years. Stunning women with long legs, flat stomachs, and bodies sculpted for display. I’d had them all. And one by one, they started to look the exact same.

Then there was Natalie.

She wasn’t the kind of woman I had always chased. She was soft where they were hard, curved and thick where they were lean.

Her hips.

Her heavy ass.

There was simply more of her to grab onto, more of her to sink my hands into and lose myself in.

She was exactly the kind of woman I had spent years pretending I didn’t crave.

And sitting there in the dark of my car, my hands still smelling like her pussy, I finally admitted the truth.

Natalie was the one woman I couldn't stop wanting. The only woman who made my cock throb like a caged animal.

And tonight, under my son's own roof, I was going to finish what I started.