All Chapters of Sin For me, Daddy.: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Rosealba’s body stilled as his tongue found her clit. Her eyes widened as the unfamiliar feeling of his tongue sent goosebumps burning across her skin. “Oh.” Rosealba moaned her voice muffled by the pants in her mouth. Drystan muscles pinched, His tongue diving into her pussy, sucking her in like she was all he had lived for. Her juice against his tastebud, spread like ink to a paper— leaving him yearning and craving for more. Rosealba's body shook at the intensity of his action. Her eyes rolled backward as Drystan drank her in like it was all his life dependent on him—tasting and taking every inch of her juice into his mouth. She tasted perfect! More than he imagined. “You taste good, Sunshine… so good.” He mumbled, taking her pussy lips into his mouth and sucking on her like it was his first taste—indeed it was his first taste and he had no plans of letting it be the last. As his tongue dived into her pussy, rolling against her clit and teasing her sensitive spot. Rosealba’s

Rosealba's cheeks stretched Into a smile—one of the most genuine smiles she had had in a day. “I am certain you are touring through Florence.” Rosealba teased. It's been days since she last had a proper conversation with Lina that lasted longer than 2 minutes. Her best friend has been engaged in business meetings and things that made her completely different from the Lina that Roselaba knew. Lina rolled her eyes from the other end as though Rosealba could see her. “My arrival has been nothing but work! I am dying…. Alba!!” Lina stressed out the last syllable of ‘dying’ and Rosealba chuckled at the overly dramatic Lina. Something has changed about Lina, perhaps the way she talks, and laughs—so freely and unreserved. From the little conversation they had occasionally, Roseslba could tell that peace resided there in Florence and Lina was basking in it. Rosealba felt a pang of jealousy in her heart—she wished Rome could provide Lina that kind of comfort—to keep Lina with her in Rome fo

Drystan eyes hovered around her body, his eyes burning with hunger like it was his first glance at her. He smacked his lips together, that act sending a shudder across Rosealba’s spine. Drystan bit on his lower lips, stretching a hand further. Rosealba’s brows knitted and she stared at Drystan in perplexity. “Your pants.” He spelled out his voice raspy. Rosealbe swallowed, straightening her posture. She reached a hand to the line of her pants, pulling it down slowly and steadily without raising the dress. Drystan's eyes followed every movement of her hand, his jaws thickening at her actions. Rosealba pulled her black pants from her legs, slow and steadily loving how teasing her action made him and how eager he looked to get a hold of her pants.When she was done she moved closer, dropping the pants on his palm. Drystan’s jaws tightened. A second did not intervene—Dryatan raised the pant to his nose, taking a long dragged exhale from it. Rosealba's pussy clamped at the soothi

Roselaba hesitated at the door of her flower shop, her fingers trembling against the cool metal handle. The familiar scent of roses, lilies, and jasmine seeped through the cracks, wrapping around her like an embrace long forgotten. It had been weeks since she last stepped outside freely, weeks of hiding in Drystan’s mansion, fearing that her landlord would hunt her down and have her imprisoned for a fire she had nothing to do with.She exhaled slowly. He can’t find me here. We are not even in the same town. But the fear still clung to her, whispering doubts in the back of her mind.Her hands tightened around the handle.She missed this. The weight of her apron around her waist, the earthy scent of soil and petals, the soft rustling of flowers when the wind slipped through the cracks of the windows. This place had been more than just a shop to her—it had been a part of her soul, a piece of her identity that had nothing to do with pain, betrayal, or survival. Here, she had once felt saf

As Drystan stepped into his mansion, an unfathomable feeling of excitement clutched his chest and the excitement of arriving home followed. Home? The name resounded in his ear, familiar yet utterly strange. He had never looked forward to coming home—he had never seen this mansion as home. To him, It was a tall vast building that sheltered his head and represented replicas of buildings he had, in and across the world. But today, there was a feeling of longing to arrive in this house that he paid lesser attention to and he feared to accept that Rosealba was the home. In her, the home resided. As Drystan stepped out of the elevator with Rocco behind him. The familiar figure stood tall, her blouse tugged into her black skirt. “My lord.” She bowed, happy to finally be back. Drystan stared at her for some seconds. “How was your stay?” His question was a cover a debut to his hard exterior. Lately, compassion has been a part of him and he hated that he cared about people and their affair