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Unexpected outing
Last Updated:
2026-01-06 12:12:59
Latest chapter
Daddy's filthy little pet It has to be fake!
Killian’s POVThe pool house felt smaller than usual that afternoon. The air was thick with the scent of Rae’s vanilla lotion and the faint motor oil that always clung to my skin after tinkering in the garage. Sunlight sliced through the half-closed blinds in thin, dusty bars across the bed where we sat—side by side, thighs touching, her small hand swallowed up in mine. She hadn’t let go since we’d woken up tangled together hours ago. Every few minutes her thumb would stroke the back of my knuckles like she was reminding herself I was real.Three days.Three fucking days of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Bianca had played her part perfectly—booked the test at some fancy private lab, sent the appointment link to the family group chat with a passive-aggressive “For transparency ”, even suggested we all join a video call to “witness the results together as a family.”Lisa had cried happy tears in the chat. Victor had sent a thumbs-up emoji. Rae had stared at her phone like it was
Daddy's filthy little pet Threatening the doctor
Bianca’s POVThe clinic smelled like antiseptic and old money—sharp, clinical, expensive. I’d chosen this place deliberately: forty minutes outside the city, tucked behind a row of tasteful evergreens, the kind of private lab that catered to celebrities who didn’t want their paternity scandals splashed across tabloids. No neon signs, no crowded waiting rooms full of sniffly kids. Just polished marble floors, soft leather chairs, and a receptionist who didn’t ask questions when I handed her my black card.I paced the length of the small private waiting area, heels clicking too loudly against the stone. My hand rested automatically on the curve of my belly—habit now, part performance, part genuine anxiety. The baby kicked once, a lazy roll that made me pause and press my palm harder. Not yours, little one. Not his. Not anyone who matters. Just leverage.Three days. Killian had given me three fucking days.I could still see his face when he’d stormed into the living room after Rae ra
Daddy's filthy little pet In Just three days
Rae’s POVThe afternoon light had shifted by the time I stirred again, slanting through the curtains in lazy golden beams that danced across the rumpled sheets. Killian’s arms were still wrapped around me, his breath warm and steady against the back of my neck. I could feel the subtle rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers occasionally twitched against my hip, like even in his half-sleep he was holding on to make sure I didn’t slip away. For a moment, I let myself linger in that peace, tracing the veins on his forearm with my fingertip, memorizing the warmth of his skin.But reality had a way of creeping back in. My mind replayed the morning’s nightmare: Bianca’s dramatic gasp, the shattered glass, the accusation hanging in the air like smoke. “Poison.” The word resounded, absurd and vicious. And then Killian storming out to “handle it,” his jaw set like he was going to war. What had he done? What had he said?I shifted slightly, turning in his arms to face him. His eyes
Daddy's filthy little pet For what?!
Rae’s POVThe first thing I noticed when consciousness crept back was the warmth. Not just any warmth—the kind that seeps into your bones and makes every ache feel distant, like the world outside can’t quite reach you. Killian’s arm was still locked around my waist, heavy and unmoving, his chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths against my back. The blanket had slipped down to our hips sometime during my nap, but his body heat was enough. More than enough.I didn’t move right away. I just lay there, letting my eyes trace the lines of him.His forearm—thick, corded with muscle, covered in those dark tattoos that twisted like smoke and vines—curved protectively over my stomach. The ink stopped just short of his wrist, leaving a strip of bare skin that looked almost vulnerable. I followed it up to his shoulder, the swell of his bicep, the faint scar from some old motorcycle accident he’d laughed off once like it was nothing. Then his neck—strong column of muscle, Adam’s appl
Daddy's filthy little pet Close your eyes Kitten
Killian’s POVThe main house door slammed behind me harder than I meant, but I didn’t care. The echo of Bianca’s fake sobs and Lisa’s shocked protests still rang in my ears, but none of it mattered right now. Only Rae did.I crossed the yard in long strides, heart pounding—not from anger anymore, but from the need to get back to her. To hold her. To make sure she knew I wasn’t going anywhere.The pool house door was unlocked. I pushed inside and found her exactly where I’d left her—curled on the edge of the bed, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to disappear.Her eyes were red-rimmed, cheeks still damp, but the second she saw me, something cracked open in her expression. Relief. Fear. Need. All at once.“Killian…” Her voice broke on my name.I crossed the room in two steps, dropping to my knees in front of her so we were eye-level. My hands cupped her face gently—thumbs brushing away the fresh tears that slipped free.“Hey. Hey, kitten. Look at me.” I wa
Daddy's filthy little pet I want a DNA test!
Rae's POVBreakfast wrapped up in that awkward, forced-normal way it always did these days—Mom clearing plates with her usual chatter, Victor mumbling something about work emails, Bianca sipping her tea like she was the queen of the damn table. I kept my eyes on my half-eaten pancakes, ignoring the way her gaze lingered on me, sharp and calculating. My phone burned in my pocket with Killian's last text, but I didn't dare check it again. Not with her watching.I stood to help Mom with the dishes, needing something to do with my hands. Anything to distract from the ache between my thighs, the sticky reminder of him that made every shift in my seat a secret thrill.Bianca cleared her throat delicately. "Rae, sweetie, could you grab me a glass of water? This tea's a bit too herbal for my taste this morning. Baby's making me so thirsty."Her voice was all sugar, but something in her eyes felt off—too bright, too eager. I shrugged it off, filling a glass from the sink and sliding it across
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