Chapter 2: Office Shadows

Isabella's POV

The sunlight filtered through the blinds of my dorm room, casting striped patterns on my bed where I sat cross-legged, staring at my laptop. Last night's encounter with Daddy still hummed in my veins, my pussy sore in the best way from how he'd claimed me. But that bliss shattered the moment I opened my email during lunch. It was a forward from his work account probably meant for someone else, or maybe he hit send too quickly. Attached was a photo that made my blood boil: his PA, Emily, in skimpy red lingerie, her tits spilling out, with a caption that read, "Missed you last night, boss. Can't wait for our next 'meeting'."

I zoomed in, my fingers trembling. She was pretty, I'll give her that—blonde, curvy, with that fake innocent smile. But she was touching what was mine. Daddy's cock belonged to me, not her, and certainly not Mom. The jealousy twisted in my gut like a knife, sharp and unrelenting. How long has this been going on? Was she the reason he sometimes skipped our midnight visits, claiming "work ran late"? I slammed the laptop shut, my mind racing. Mom was already an obstacle, snoring away while he fucked me senseless. Now this bitch? No. I wouldn't share him. Not with anyone.

By evening, I was back home for the weekend, feigning a smile at dinner as Mom droned on about her book club. Daddy sat across from me, his foot occasionally brushing mine under the table, sending sparks up my leg. His eyes met mine, dark with promise, and I felt myself getting wet despite the anger simmering inside. "How was your day, Isabella?" he asked, his voice casual, but I caught the undertone the one that said he was already thinking about later.

"Fine," I replied curtly, stabbing at my salad. Mom didn't notice; she was too busy refilling her wine glass. "Classes were boring. Nothing exciting."

He raised an eyebrow, but Mom chimed in, "Oh, honey, you'll get used to college life. Just focus on your studies." She patted my hand absently, her wedding ring glinting under the light. That ring a symbol of her claim on him. It made me want to scream.

After dinner, I retreated to my room, pacing like a caged animal. The clock ticked toward midnight, and I debated locking the door, making him beg. But no, I needed answers. And I needed him. My body betrayed me, aching for his touch even as my mind plotted. Poison— that's what I'd been thinking about lately. Something slow, untraceable. I'd googled it in incognito mode during class: household items that could mimic a heart attack or illness. Bleach in her wine? No, too obvious. Antifreeze? Tasteless, sweet even. I could slip it into her nightly tea. The thought made my pussy throb oddly, a mix of power and desire. With Mom gone, he'd be all mine. No more sneaking, no more sharing with sluts like Emily.

The door creaked open right on time, and there he was, in his boxers and a loose tee, his cock already semi-hard outlined against the fabric. "Hey, baby girl," he whispered, closing the door. "Missed you at dinner. You seemed off."

I sat up in bed, my nightgown short and sheer, nipples pebbling under his gaze. "Off? Yeah, maybe because I know about Emily."

His face paled for a split second, but he recovered quickly, sitting beside me. "Emily? Who's that?"

"Don't play dumb, Daddy." I pulled out my phone, showing him the email screenshot I'd saved. "Your PA. The one sending you nudes. 'Missed you last night'? Sounds like you're fucking her too."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Isabella, it's not what you think. She's just... a distraction. Work's stressful, and your mom—"

"And Mom what?" I snapped, my voice low but sharp. "She's not enough? Well, neither am I, apparently."

He reached for my hand, but I pulled away. "No, baby, you're everything. Emily means nothing. It's just physical, quick fucks in the office to blow off steam. But with you..." His eyes softened, roaming over my body. "With you, it's different. You're my princess. So wet and tight for me every time."

I felt a flush creep up my neck, my resolve wavering as he leaned closer, his scent enveloping me. "Then why her? Why not just come to me?"

"Because I can't risk it every day," he murmured, his hand finally landing on my thigh, stroking upward. "Your mom's always around. But listen, I'll end it with Emily. For you."

"Liar," I whispered, but my legs parted slightly as his fingers brushed my panties. "Prove it."

He chuckled, that deep sound vibrating through me. "How do you want me to prove it, Isabella? Tell Daddy."

I bit my lip, the anger mixing with lust into something intoxicating. "Tell me in detail. What do you do with her? Is her pussy better than mine?"

His eyes widened, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he slipped his hand under my nightgown, cupping my breast. "No one's better than you, baby. She's... enthusiastic, sure. Sucks my cock under the desk during calls. But it's mechanical. With you, it's fire."

I moaned softly as he pinched my nipple, but I pressed on. "Describe it. I want to hear everything. Make me wet with your words, then fuck me like you fuck her."

He groaned, his cock twitching visibly. "Naughty girl. Alright. Last time, she came into my office after hours, wearing a tight skirt. Bent over my desk, begging for it. I flipped up her skirt, no panties—slutty, right? Slammed into her pussy from behind, hard and fast. She was wet, but not like you. You drip for me before I even touch you."

My breath hitched, my own pussy soaking through my panties now. "Did you call her names? Like you do me?"

"Yeah," he admitted, his finger circling my clit over the fabric. "Called her a good little whore. But it's empty. With you, when I say you're my dirty princess, I mean it."

"Show me," I demanded, grabbing his wrist to guide his hand inside my panties. His fingers slid into my wetness easily, two plunging deep. "Fuck me like that. Over the desk wait, my vanity. Bend me over it."

He hesitated, glancing at the door. "Your mom's asleep, but we have to be quiet."

"Fuck quiet," I hissed, standing and pulling him toward the vanity. "I want it rough. Make me forget about her."

He stood, his boxers tented obscenely. "God, Isabella, you're killing me." He spun me around, pressing my hips against the wood, my reflection staring back flushed, eyes wild. He yanked down my panties, his cock springing free as he dropped his boxers. "Look at yourself while I fuck you. See how beautiful you are when you're mine."

I gripped the edges, watching as he positioned himself, the head of his cock teasing my entrance. "Please, Daddy. Fill my pussy."

He thrust in with one stroke, burying himself to the hilt. I gasped, the stretch burning deliciously. "So tight," he grunted, starting a rhythm. "Wetter than her. Always."

"Tell me more," I panted, pushing back against him. "Does she beg like I do?"

"She whimpers," he said between thrusts, his hands on my hips. "But you... you demand. It's hot as hell." He reached around, rubbing my clit, making me clench around him.

The mirror fogged slightly from our breaths, my tits bouncing with each pound. "What if Mom walked in? Would you stop?"

He faltered for a second, then fucked me harder. "No. I'd keep going. Tell her to watch how a real woman takes my cock."

The words sent me spiraling, my orgasm building. But darker thoughts intruded. If Mom were gone... poisoned, say, from her "vitamins" I'd tamper with... we could do this anytime. "Daddy, I hate sharing you. With her and with Emily."

"I'll fire her," he promised, his voice strained. "Tomorrow. Now cum for me, baby. Squeeze my cock."

I did, shattering around him, my pussy pulsing as waves crashed over me. He followed soon after, filling me with hot spurts, groaning into my neck.

We collapsed onto the bed, panting. "See? You're the only one," he whispered, kissing my forehead.

But as he drifted off beside me riskyly, Mom never woke—I stared at the ceiling. Firing Emily? Maybe. But Mom... she was permanent. Unless I made her not. The idea solidified, a plan forming. I'd research more tomorrow. For now, I snuggled closer, his cum leaking from my pussy, marking me as his.

The next day, I skipped class, diving into online forums about undetectable poisons. Ricin? Too exotic. Ethylene glycol from antifreeze—easy to get, mimics flu symptoms leading to kidney failure. I could mix it in her coffee creamer. She'd sicken slowly, blame it on age. Daddy would comfort me, and eventually, it'd just be us.

That night, he came again, but this time with news. "Told Emily it's over," he said, slipping under the covers. "She cried, but fuck it. Now, let me taste that sweet pussy."

I spread my legs, moaning as his tongue delved in. "Good, Daddy. Now you're all mine."

Almost. Mom's tea sat untouched downstairs. Soon, I'd change that.

We talked more after, his head between my thighs. "What do you dream about, Isabella? Us?"

"A future," I said vaguely. "No obstacles."

He hummed approval, sucking my clit until I came again. But my dreams were darker now, wet with desire and vengeance.