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BOOK SEVEN: BETTER THAN REVENGE.
Last Updated:
2025-08-25 01:13:15
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Touch Me, Daddy 17 - Ansel.
Christ, she’s delicious. Philomena is tight and slick and warm around my cock, her perfect body squirming beneath me as I ride her into a whimpering mess. The sofa creaks and the cushions slide, a cell phone clattering to the floor, but I don’t give a damn—all I care about is the throaty little noises she makes when I hit the right spot inside her.My back is damp, my shirt sticking to my skin. If my heart thumps any harder, I’ll crack a rib. Nothing about this is comfortable, but I couldn’t stop now if a hurricane hit, and when I grind the heel of my palm against Philomena’s clit, she cries out in desperation. The sweetest music.“Such a perfect girl,” I rasp. So good for me.”Her groan is dredged from the depths of her body.We’re moving faster, harder. Grinding deeper. My pulse throbs in my ears, and she’s so slick against my hand, so tight around my shaft. I’m caught up in her, and nothing else exists in the whole goddamn world, nothing but this girl.“Ansel,” she moans, then bite
Touch Me, Daddy 16 - Philomena.
“I should have listened to you.” Ansel’s words make the tiny hairs stand up on my arms, and when he comes to stand close, when he wraps his arms around me, I can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. I bury my face in his chest, panting against his fancy shirt; I grip his waist hard enough to leave fingerprint bruises. “You tried to explain everything, but I didn’t listen. I said I would, but I didn’t. And I said such cruel things to you in return.”My tongue is thick in my mouth. His shirt button jabs into my nose. “That’s okay. It’s fine.”“It’s not fine,” Ansel growls, and his face rubs against my hair. His hands roam over my back, warm and greedy, and I’m home. Oh god, I was exiled and now I’m home. “I always want to listen to you, and I never want to be cruel. Just like I always want you to tell me the truth. We can be better, Philomena.” He squeezes me tightly, then eases off. “We can be better for each other. Tell me you agree.”Is he kidding? Over the last three days, I’ve thought of noth
Touch Me, Daddy 15 - Philo.
Ah, rock bottom. My old friend. It’s been a while since I’ve found myself here—not since Dad’s rough patch, in fact—but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t something comforting about it.These ice cream cone-printed jammies. The unending stream of cooking shows blaring from my laptop. The open peanut butter jar on the coffee table, spoon sticking straight up, and the dancing pizza logo on my phone, counting down the minutes until dinner arrives.Home sweet home. And okay—this is a pity party for one. I get it. I’m in a hell of my own making, and I have no one to blame but myself.Seriously, what was I thinking? Taking all my bitterness and pain out on another person—so gross. And damn, I wasn’t even good at it.I’m just not the vengeful type. Dad always teases me because I tear up at cheesy commercials, and I feel crippling guilt when my houseplants die. Who was I kidding?“It’s fucking raw!” I yell from flat on my back, glaring at the cooking show from where I’m wedged between sofa c
Touch Me, Daddy 14 - Ansel.
Head pounding, I check Philomena’s joining date, then run through a mental tally of everything that has gone wrong lately. The small disasters, throwing us off course every day; the rat sightings and broken elevator. The way it felt like she hated me at first, her teeth clenched behind every smile. Even the damn coffee.Christ, I… I feel sick. And as the room spins around me, my heartbeat loud in my ears, the office door swings open.“Got your note,” Philomena calls, her steps bouncy as she heads for me. She’s in that green dress again, the same one from her first day, and her wide smile seems real. Is everything between us a lie?No. No.I’m jumping to conclusions. I’m—I’m overtired and paranoid, and there will be an explanation for this. There must be.She’s my Philomena. She is.“You look like shit,” my assistant says when she reaches my side, tousling my hair with a frown. Her touch is so soft, her concern so real, and I want nothing more than to bury my face in her stomach. For h
Touch Me, Daddy 13 - Ansel.
I’m in love with my assistant. How predictable of me.Should I buy a red sports car next? Start a collection of expensive cuff links? Take up skydiving to pretend that I’m not getting older every day?A sex scandal will be sufficient, I grumble inwardly as I prowl through the Ignis floors, harried workers scattering in my wake. We’re close to the launch now, and the air in this building seems to vibrate with tension. Every minute counts.So close. We’re nearly there—then, disaster or not, we can breathe again for a while. My workers can take some vacation days, go and make up for lost time with their families, and I’ll…I guess I’ll do my usual thing. Get right back to work.Or… maybe not. Because as I stroll through the finance department, hands in my pockets and a scowl fixed on my face, an image flickers through my brain: Philomena in that bikini I imagined so long ago, stretched out on a towel in the sunny city park. One arm tossed over her eyes, a secretive smile curving her lips
Touch Me, Daddy 12 - Philo.
Oof. A wave of heat crackles through me, singing my insides, and my hand trembles as I draw his cock out into the air. The thought of it—my handsome, stern boss turning me into a red-faced mess on his office floor, using me for his own pleasure—“You like this already.” His deep voice is rich with approval, his thumbs stroking through my hair. “Oh, Philomena, you look so perfect on your knees.” Humor lightens his tone. “Maybe you should crawl when you bring me my coffee.”“Shut up, Mr. Carson.” But I’m too distracted to get mad. His shaft is long and thick and impressive, weighing heavily against my palm, and my jaw aches just looking at it. When I grip him gently, dragging my hand down his length, Ansel lets out a soft hiss.“Harder.”Ooh-kay. I squeeze him tighter; make my grip a little mean. Ansel’s hips buck an inch off the desk.“Yeah. Christ. Just like that.” His whole body is tense, his thighs rock hard beneath his dark pants. I stroke him again, reveling in the way he jerks an
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