Chapter 13: Ripped By My Roommate’s Dad(13)

~Maya~

He said it with that voice. That voice. The one that made my bones lock and my stomach drop and my cunt ache like I was born for this.

That deep, cold, calm, I-own-you voice. The voice that didn’t need to scream. Didn’t need to growl. Didn’t even need to whisper. Just a few quiet words, and my whole fucking body obeyed.

He looked at me like I wasn’t even a person anymore. Like I wasn’t Kayla’s friend. Like I wasn’t a girl with a past or a future or a heart that used to beat for other people. He looked at me like I was a command he hadn’t finished giving. Like I was a toy that finally understood what it was. And the moment those words left his mouth, I dropped.

Just like that.

I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t think. My knees hit the floor with a soft, perfect thud that felt louder than a gunshot. And I didn’t care. I didn’t care that Kayla was still standing there.

I didn’t care that her entire face was twisted in disbelief, or that her mouth was hanging open like she’d just seen God cheat.

I didn’t care that I was still crying or that my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I didn’t care that there was a positive pregnancy test in my pocket or that her father’s cum was still leaking out of me and soaking my panties.

I just dropped.

Because I was meant to be there.

Because I’d been waiting my whole life to be there.

Because I wasn’t the guest anymore. I wasn’t the sleepover friend. I wasn’t the dirty secret.

I was the one on my knees.

I was the one who opened my mouth.

I was the one who got fucking bred.

“Please,” I whispered, and it didn’t even sound like me. It sounded like hunger. It sounded like obsession. It sounded like every broken, addicted, needy part of me finally begging to be seen.

“Please let me suck it, Daddy. Please let me show her. Let me show her what happens when I obey you. I’ll be so good. I swear I’ll be so good. I’ll suck it just the way you like it. I’ll make her watch. I won’t stop. Not until I taste you again. Please. Please let me.”

He didn’t say a word.

Not one.

He just smirked. That slow, dark, evil smirk that made my thighs clench and my heart pound and my mouth open wider than it ever had before. He didn’t need to say anything. Because that smirk said it all. That smirk told me I was already owned. That smirk told me this was what he wanted all along.

And then he unzipped.

Just like that.

And when he pulled it out?

Fuck.

My mouth dropped open before I even touched him. I swear I forgot how to breathe. My lips parted. My eyes glazed. My breath stuttered in my throat. And my hands—they just moved on their own.

They weren’t even mine anymore. They were his. They were shaking as they wrapped around that thick, veiny, gorgeous cock that was already hard, already dripping, already pulsing like it had been waiting for this moment just as much as I had.

And Kayla?

She gasped.

A real gasp. A loud, dramatic, horror-movie gasp like she thought I might snap out of it. Like she thought maybe the sound of her voice could wake me up and make me crawl back to innocence. Like she thought I was still the girl she grew up with.

But I wasn’t.

Not anymore.

Because I didn’t stop.

I didn’t even flinch.

I leaned forward, looked her dead in the eye, and licked the tip.

Slow.

Hot.

Wet.

Filthy.

And the taste? It was still there. The taste of power. Of sin. Of the man who just fucked a baby into me.

And I moaned. Out loud. Around the head of his cock. Like I didn’t even care who was watching.

Because I didn’t.

Because I wanted her to watch.

I wanted her to watch every second of it and understand—deep in her jealous little chest—that this was mine. That he was mine.

That his cock was mine. Because I wasn’t the girl sleeping on the guest mattress anymore. I wasn’t the friend borrowing her charger and pretending not to notice her dad staring at me over dinner.

I was the one on my knees with spit on my chin and cum still drying between my thighs, begging to please him in front of her.

And when I took him into my mouth again, slowly, like I was unwrapping the gift I prayed for since I was sixteen, I moaned like a girl in love with her addiction. Because that’s what it was. He was my addiction. My first. My last. My fucking ruin.

The heat of him filled my mouth, thick and heavy on my tongue, and I didn’t stop. I didn’t care how loud I was. I didn’t care how ruined I looked.

My mascara was probably a joke by now. My knees were probably bruising. My heart was definitely gone. But I didn’t stop.

I bobbed my head slowly, then faster, one hand wrapped tight around the base of him while the other clawed into his thigh like I needed something to anchor me to this moment. Like if I didn’t hold onto him, I’d float away from how fucking good it felt to serve him.

I could feel Kayla watching me. I could hear her little breaths, fast and panicked, like she was watching something out of a dream she never wanted to have. Like she couldn’t believe it. Like she couldn’t look away.

Good.

Let her choke on the truth.

Let her realize I was never just the best friend. I was the fucking threat.

I was the one who opened my mouth and took her father down my throat like I’d been trained for this. I was the one who gagged and moaned and kept going.

I was the one who looked up at him through my lashes, tears in my eyes, and begged him without words to use my mouth until I tasted the proof of how much he needed me.

And he did.

He fucked my mouth like it was his. Slow at first. Then rougher. Then rougher.

One hand fisted in my hair, yanking it back, and the other slid under my chin to hold my jaw open, to make sure I stayed right there. Eyes up. Lips stretched. Throat ready.

“You like when she watches, don’t you?” he growled, his voice like gravel and heat and danger and everything I was addicted to.

I tried to nod, but his grip was too tight. So I moaned instead.

And he laughed.

He fucking laughed.

Fuck

I loved that she was crying now. I loved that she didn’t understand how deep this went. I loved that the man who raised her was the one whose cock was hitting the back of my throat while her childhood shattered in real time.

And when he finally grabbed my head with both hands and thrust deeper, harder, until I gagged and choked and tears streamed down my cheeks, I didn’t pull away.

I gripped his thighs harder.