Chapter 4: Ripped By My Roommate’s Dad(4)

I whispered it, but it sounded like I screamed it. Maybe because my body was still convulsing, still twitching, still leaking his cum and holding on to every inch of his cock like it was terrified he’d leave.

But he didn’t leave.

Oh no.

He laughed.

That low, gravel-deep, sinful chuckle that made my nipples harden all over again and my cunt clench even though I was already wrecked beyond belief. It wasn’t a sweet laugh. It was the sound a man makes when he’s about to keep going. When he knows he’s already broken you and he’s still not satisfied.

“You want more?” he said, his voice grinding against my spine like sandpaper, like it was dragging its fingers up the inside of my soul. “You think this pussy can take more after I just filled it up like that?”

And the thing is—I didn’t even think. I just nodded. Hard. Like a fucking bobblehead on a car dashboard. My brain was jelly. My thighs were shaking. My face was smashed against the marble counter and I could barely breathe but I still nodded like I was begging him to rip me open even more.

Because I was.

Because I wanted it.

Because I was 18 and stupid and soaking and had no self-control and apparently no shame either.

“Please,” I begged. And I meant it. Every syllable. “Please, Daddy. Fuck me again. I can take it. I want to take it. I wanna feel it again, I wanna feel you ruin me again.”

He didn’t say anything. Not at first.

He just reached down between my thighs and dragged his fingers through the cum still dripping out of me like he was checking how much he’d already put in. Like he wanted to see if his mess was still warm.

And then?

He shoved those fingers into my mouth.

And I sucked.

God help me—I sucked my own cum off his fingers like a girl possessed. I moaned around them, slurped like a greedy little slut, tongue swirling around his knuckles like I was trying to prove something. Like I wanted him to see just how much I loved it. Just how far gone I was.

“My filthy fucking kitten,” he growled. “You want Daddy to fuck this hole again even though you’re still leaking?”

I nodded with my mouth full.

Moaned around his fingers.

Swallowed like the good girl I wasn’t.

“Yes,” I gasped when he pulled his hand away. “Yes, yes, please—I want your cock. I want to feel it again. I don’t care if it hurts. I don’t care if I cry. I want it inside me, Daddy. Please. Please.”

He grabbed me by the waist like he was done with talking and lifted me off the counter. Just lifted me. Like I was nothing. Like I didn’t weigh a thing. My legs dangled. My brain short-circuited. My mouth was still open and my eyes were still rolling and I was already dripping down my thighs when he carried me out of the bathroom and into the hallway.

And I should’ve asked where we were going. I should’ve cared.

But I didn’t.

Because the second he kicked open the door to the master shower and pressed me against the cold glass, I knew.

He wanted to fuck me against it.

Still wet.

Still stretched.

Still full of him.

And I was going to let him.

The door slammed shut behind us. My back was against the glass. My hair was stuck to my face. My chest was heaving like I’d just run a marathon barefoot and naked through a thunderstorm and he didn’t even give me a second to catch my breath.

“You want it again, baby?” he asked, voice like cracked leather and sin. “Then get on your knees. Again.”

And I dropped so fast I swear I almost bruised them.

My hands were shaking.

Not cute, girly trembles. No. Full-on earthquake-level trembles. Like my whole body knew what was coming and still couldn’t handle it. My thighs were still wet—wet wet. Like dripping down the insides, messy, sloppy, glistening-wet. His cum was literally leaking from me and I didn’t even care. I wanted more. My whole body wanted more. My brain was screaming no, but my mouth? My mouth was open and begging.

And my knees?

They hit the cold tile like they f**king belonged there.

I didn’t even look away.