เข้าสู่ระบบแชร์
MY STEP BROTHER’S ORGY PARTY (2)
วันที่เผยแพร่:
2026-02-02 23:50:34FREYA
He doesn’t say another word. He simply grabs my wrist and drags me through the crowd, past a girl choking on two cocks at once, past a man eating ass while another fucks his throat, up a staircase and down a hallway. The door at the end has a keypad. He punches in a code, shoves me inside, and locks it behind us. The room is dark except for amber lighting. A massive bed draped in black silk. One wall is mirrored floor to ceiling. The other is glass, overlooking the party below. “VVIP,” he says, stalking toward me. “No one comes in without my permission. You won’t have the opportunity to leave until I decide I’m done with you.” I can’t breathe. All my dreams are about to come through, and I’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. He stops inches away. His cock is straining against his jeans, a wet spot forming where his precum is leaking through. “Last chance, Freya. You can walk out of here and we pretend this never happened.” “And if I stay?” His hand shoots out, wrapping around my throat. “If you stay, I’m going to fuck every hole in your body. I’m going to make you come until you’re crying and begging me to stop. But I won’t stop. I’ll keep going, again and again, until your virgin cunt masters the feeling of my cock.” I’m trembling. Soaked. My clit is pulsing so hard I could come from his words alone. “I’ve wanted you since I was sixteen.” “I know.” His free hand slides down my stomach, fingers dipping beneath my thong, finding my slit. “Fuck,” he moans, eyes wide as he stares at me. “you’re dripping.” “For you. Always for you.” “Fucking hell, Freya.” He shoves two fingers inside me and I cry out, my walls clamping down on the intrusion. He’s not gentle at all. Jay pumps them hard and fast, the heel of his palm grinding against my clit, his eyes locked on mine. “No men have been inside this pussy?” “N-none—” “You’re a virgin.” His fingers curl, hitting my sweet spot. “This tight little cunt has never been fucked.” “No — oh god — Jace—” “And you came to an orgy.” He adds a third finger, stretching me, and I feel myself gushing around his hand. “Dressed like a slut. Showing everyone your perfect tits. Letting my friend touch what belongs to ME.” “I’m sorry — I just wanted — FUCK—” He drops to his knees. Rips my thong off with his teeth. And buries his face in my cunt. I scream so loud it echoes off the mirrors. His tongue is everywhere — licking through my folds, circling my clit, fucking into my hole. He eats my pussy like he’s starving for it, groaning against my flesh, the vibrations making my thighs shake. “You taste so fucking good,” he growls into my pussy. “Better than I imagined. I’ve jerked off thinking about this cunt for years, Freya. Do you know how many times I’ve come just thinking of my tongue in your sweet pussy?” Fucking hell. He sucks my clit between his lips and flicks it rapidly with his tongue while shoving three fingers back inside me. I grab his hair, grinding against his face, fucking myself on his mouth. “I’m gonna come — oh fuck oh fuck OH FUCK—” He pulls away. I sob at the loss, my pussy clenching around nothing, so close to the edge I’m shaking. “Not yet.” He stands, unbuckles his belt, shoves his jeans down. His cock springs free and my mouth waters. It’s even bigger than I thought. Thick as my wrist, veins pulsing along the shaft, the head swollen and purple and dripping precum. His balls are heavy, drawn up tight, full of cum I want inside me. “This is going to hurt,” he says, lifting me by the thighs, pressing my back against the mirror. The glass is cold against my skin. His cock notches at my entrance, the fat head spreading my virgin lips. “I don’t care.” I wrap my legs around his waist. “Ruin me.” He slams into me with one hard thrust. Pain rips through my core, sharp and burning. I feel myself tear around him, feel his cock force its way into places nothing has ever been. Tears stream down my face and I’m screaming into his shoulder. He doesn’t stop. Just pulls back and slams in again, his balls slapping against my ass, his cock hitting my cervix with every brutal thrust. “So fucking tight,” he groans. “Squeezing my cock so good. You were made for this, Freya. Made to take me.” The pain starts to blur. Pleasure creeps in, sparking up my spine with each stroke. I’m so wet I can hear it — obscene squelching sounds as he fucks my virgin pussy open. “Harder,” I gasp. “Please, harder—” He pounds into me so hard the mirror shakes. I’m bouncing on his cock, tits jiggling, screaming his name over and over while he grunts filthy things in my ear. “Gonna fill this pussy up. Gonna pump you so full of cum it leaks out for days. You want that? Want your stepbrother’s cum dripping down your thighs?” “YES! god yes, come inside me—” He slams deep and roars. I feel his cock pulse, feel the hot rush of cum flooding my insides. There’s so much, jet after jet painting my walls, filling me until it’s leaking around his shaft, dripping down to the floor. I come so hard I black out for a second. My whole body convulses, pussy milking his cock, squeezing out every drop. We stay tangled against the mirror, both panting. His cock is still inside me, still hard. His hand cups my face. Gentle. Tender. “You know you’re mine now,” he whispers. “This pussy belongs to me.” “Yes!” The door opens much to my surprise. Two men step inside. It’s the hot guy from earlier, and another: blonde, blue-eyed, lean and hungry. Their cocks are out. Hard. Leaking. “Jace.” Marcus grins. “Are you sharing tonight?” Jace looks at me. His thumb traces my swollen, fucked-out lips. “That’s up to her.” I look at them. Look at him. “Only if you watch.” His cock twitches inside me as a smile curves on his face. “That’s my girl.”
บทล่าสุด
HER FORBIDDEN DADDIES: FILTHY ONE SHOTS DADDY'S DEBT TO PAY 5
The three months ended and I didn’t leave.Not because I couldn’t. Not because the debt was leverage or the arrangement was binding or I had nowhere else to go. I stayed because Dominic Ashe had peeled back every layer of armour I’d ever worn and found the thing underneath and held it like it mattered. And because somewhere between the rage and the reckoning, I’d fallen in love with a man made of scars and contradictions who ran an underworld and made me breakfast and knelt at my feet when he’d wronged me.He told me everything. All of it—the operations, the risks, the people who depended on him and the people who wanted him dead. He laid his empire open like a body on a table and let me see every ugly organ and every necessary vein and asked me not to look away.I didn’t.My father called once, two weeks after the three months ended. Sober this time—genuinely sober, the first time in years. He said he was i
HER FORBIDDEN DADDIES: FILTHY ONE SHOTS DADDY'S DEBT TO PAY 4
I found out on day seventy-eight that the debt had been cleared on day one.Not day ninety. Not even day twelve, when he first touched me. Day one. The night I’d shown up at his loft with fury in my chest and my father’s sins around my neck, Dominic had already wiped the balance. Cancelled it entirely. Told his accountant to eat the two point three million like it was a rounding error, because to a man who moved the kind of money he moved, it was.I found out because I saw the ledger. He’d left it open on his desk—whether by accident or design, I’d never be sure—and there it was in black and white: Resolved. Day one. No further collection.The three months was a fiction. The arrangement was a fiction. I’d been free since the moment I walked through his door, and he’d let me believe otherwise because—Because he’d wanted me to stay. And he hadn’t known how to ask.Th
HER FORBIDDEN DADDIES: FILTHY ONE SHOTS DADDY'S DE BT TO PAY 3
After the first time, the walls came down fast.Not slowly, not gracefully—they collapsed like a building brought down by controlled demolition, one charge after another until there was nothing left standing between us. We moved through the loft like a fever. The kitchen counter. The shower. The desk where he worked, papers scattered and forgotten while he bent me over its edge and made me forget my own name. Every surface became a memory. Every room held the echo of a sound one of us had made.But it was the nights that undid me. After the frenzy, after the bruises and the bitten lips and the sweat-soaked sheets, he’d pull me against his chest and talk. And Dominic Ashe talking in the dark was a different creature entirely from the man who ran an empire of shadows.He told me about growing up in Dorchester—the kind of neighbourhood that made you hard or made you dead. His mother, who cleaned office buildings and never complained. His father, w
HER FORBIDDEN DADDIES: FILTHY ONE SHOTS DADDY'S DEBT TO PAY 2
The tension broke on day twelve.Twelve days of circling each other in that loft like two planets locked in a gravitational pull neither of us wanted to acknowledge. Twelve days of his eyes on me when he thought I wasn’t looking. Twelve days of me pretending I didn’t notice the way my skin prickled when he entered a room, the way my breathing changed when he stood too close, the way I’d lie in bed at night and listen to the low rumble of his voice on the phone in the next room and press my thighs together until the ache subsided.He was infuriatingly respectful. That was the problem. He didn’t leer, didn’t crowd, didn’t touch. He cooked breakfast—the man ran a shadow economy and cooked breakfast—and left food on the counter for me with a note that said Eat in handwriting that was sharp and angular and somehow intimate. He asked about the books I was reading. He argued with me about politics over dinner l
HER FORBIDDEN DADDIES: FILTHY ONE SHOTS DADDY'S DEBT TO PAY
My father sold me on a Tuesday.Not literally. He didn’t wrap me in brown paper and hand me across a counter. But when a man owes two million dollars to the kind of people who collect debts with pliers and blowtorches, and the only asset he has left is a twenty-four-year-old daughter with a smart mouth and a spine made of spite, the math does itself.He called me at eleven p.m. His voice was the slurred, watery thing it became after the fifth drink—the voice that had narrated my childhood in excuses and broken promises. He said he was sorry. He said there was no other way. He said a man named Dominic Ashe wanted to meet me, and if I didn’t show up, they’d come for us both.I hung up. Sat on the edge of my bed in the studio apartment I could barely afford. Stared at the wall. And then I got dressed, because that’s what you do when the world splits open at your feet—you put on clothes and you walk into the wreckage.The a
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They came to me together on the seventh night.No pretence. No pretending. Matteo opened the door and Ares followed, and the look that passed between them told me this had been discussed, negotiated, decided—the way everything in their world was. They’d shared an empire. They’d shared blood. And now, standing in the doorway of my borrowed room with matching hunger in mismatched eyes, they were offering to share me.I should have said no. I should have remembered that I was here against my will, that these men were criminals, that wanting them was a betrayal of every rational instinct I possessed. But rationality had abandoned me somewhere around the third night, and what was left—raw, electric, aching—didn’t care about should.“Both of you,” I said. Not a question.Matteo closed the door. Ares locked it.“Rules,” Matteo said, his voice carrying the calm authority that made my body respond
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