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PASSION IN THE PRISON III

Author: Tamara Love
last update publish date: 2026-05-18 20:07:27

PART THREE: PASSION IN THE PRISON CELL

Five days had crawled by since that moonlit night in the Warden’s office.

Five long days of stolen glances during headcount, of my body aching with unmet need every time I remembered the thick stretch of Ryker’s pierced cock and the filthy way he’d used me. I wanted more. Craved it like air. Every night I touched myself quietly under the thin blanket, biting my lip raw so my bunkmate wouldn’t hear, but my fingers were nowhere near enough.

That evening,
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  • Dear Ex, Your Father Fxxked Me Better: Filthy Shorts   THE MAYFAIR SOMNOPHILIA SEDUCTION IV

    Chapter 4I saw Ethan the second he stepped through the compound gates. Confident strides, shoulders back, that smug look on his face like he still owned the world. Like he hadn’t been balls-deep in my maid of honor three nights ago while staring me down. My stomach twisted, but not with pain anymore. With something darker. Hotter. I was already moving before he even reached the front steps.I knew where Adrian would be. His study. The same room where this had all started. I pushed the door open without knocking.He was dressing. Shirt half-buttoned, belt in his hands, that broad chest still bare. Silver at his temples catching the light. He looked up, eyes darkening the moment he saw me.I didn’t speak. I crossed the room fast, grabbed his face, and kissed him hard. Tongue pushing into his mouth, tasting the coffee and the man I’d become obsessed with. My hands went straight to his belt, yanking it open, shoving his pants down just enough.“Bend me over the desk,” I breathed against

  • Dear Ex, Your Father Fxxked Me Better: Filthy Shorts   THE MAYFAIR SOMNOPHILIA SEDUCTION III

    Chapter 3I couldn’t take it anymore. Three days. Three fucking days since Adrian last used my body while I was out cold, and the ache between my legs had turned into a constant, throbbing need. I paced the townhouse like a caged animal, my pussy wet and empty, clenching around nothing every time I remembered his thick cock stretching me. I touched myself constantly but never let myself cum. I wanted it to build. I wanted to be desperate enough to do anything.That night I waited in his bedroom, heart hammering. The clock ticked past midnight, then one, then two. I was naked already, skin hot, nipples hard, my shaved cunt slick and dripping down my thighs. When I finally heard the front door open and his heavy footsteps, I stayed hidden in the shadows of his room. He looked exhausted—tie loose, jacket slung over his shoulder, eyes half-closed. He didn’t even turn on the light. Just kicked off his shoes, dropped onto the massive bed face-up, and groaned as he passed out almost instantl

  • Dear Ex, Your Father Fxxked Me Better: Filthy Shorts   THE MAYFAIR SOMNOPHILIA SEDUCTION II

    Chapter 2The maid entered quietly the next morning. She carried a heavy silver tray and set it on the table beside the bed without a sound. Her eyes stayed low, respectful, the way people looked at someone who mattered.“Miss Tessa,” she said, voice soft. “Lord Adrian gave orders before he left. We are to treat you like royalty. He is out for the day, but every need of yours must be met. Whatever you want—food, bath, anything—just say.”I pushed myself up against the pillows. My body ached in the best way. Between my legs I still felt the stretch from the night before, and when I shifted I could feel the dried stickiness on my thighs. I remembered it all. The wet heat of his tongue dragging over my pussy while I was gone. The slow, deep push of his cock opening me up. My body had clenched around him even though I couldn’t move. I had liked it. More than liked it. I had wanted to stay like that forever—limp, used, full of him.Later that afternoon, I looked at the maid while she poure

  • Dear Ex, Your Father Fxxked Me Better: Filthy Shorts   THE MAYFAIR SOMNOPHILIA SEDUCTION I

    STORY TEN: THE MAYFAIR SOMNOPHILIA SEDUCTIONChapter 1I saw them the second I stepped onto the balcony for air. My silk gown whispered around my legs, the engagement ring heavy on my finger. Ethan, my fiancé, had his pants down and was balls-deep in Rachel, my maid of honor. Her back was against the stone railing, legs wrapped around him, dress bunched at her waist. He was thrusting hard, grunting with every push, her moans loud even over the music coming from inside the ballroom.My stomach dropped. I froze. He didn’t see me at first. Then his eyes lifted and locked on mine. He didn’t stop. He just kept fucking her, staring at me like I was the one who had done something wrong.I turned and ran. Straight through the crowd, past the shocked faces, out the front doors of the Mayfair hotel. I didn’t have my coat. The night air was cold on my bare arms, but I didn’t feel it. I just kept walking fast in my heels until the lights of the ballroom were far behind me.I knew where to go. Eth

  • Dear Ex, Your Father Fxxked Me Better: Filthy Shorts   THE WEDDING THAT CHOSE THE FATHER II

    PART TWORoman’s mouth was ravenous. He sealed his lips fully around Elodie’s dripping pussy and sucked hard, drawing her swollen folds and creamy arousal into his hot mouth with a filthy, wet sound. His tongue flattened and dragged up her slit in one long, possessive stroke, tasting every drop of her wedding-day cum.“Fuuuck, Mr. Ashford…” Elodie moaned, her gloved hands flying to his silver-streaked hair, gripping tight as she ground her cunt against his face.He growled against her sensitive flesh, the vibration making her clit throb. Then he speared his thick tongue straight into her tight hole, fucking her with it—deep, relentless strokes that made squelching noises echo inside the limousine. His nose pressed against her swollen clit, rubbing in tight circles while his tongue curled and thrust, scooping out more of her slick cream and swallowing it greedily.Elodie’s back arched, her full tits straining against the bodice of her gown. “Oh my god—your tongue is so deep! Yes, tongu

  • Dear Ex, Your Father Fxxked Me Better: Filthy Shorts   THE WEDDING THAT CHOSE THE FATHER I

    STORY NINE: THE WEDDING THAT CHOSE THE FATHER PART ONEElodie stood before the tall gilded mirror in the bridal suite of the opulent London hotel attached to Westminster, her white wedding gown hugging every curve. The dress was a masterpiece—silk and lace clinging to her full breasts, cinched waist, and the lush swell of her hips before flowing into a dramatic train. She had dreamed of this day for years. Today it felt like ashes in her mouth.Tears stung her eyes as she clutched her phone, replaying the video sent just that morning: Daniel, her groom, in this very chapel’s dressing room, passionately kissing her stepsister while his fingers pumped deep into the other woman’s cunt. The wet sounds, the moans, the way her stepsister had spread her legs wider and begged for more, it was burned into Elodie’s mind.She wiped her tears, touched up her lipstick, and smiled coldly at her reflection. No more crying. Today, I burn it all down.A soft knock. A smiling attendant announced it wa

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