Lahat ng Kabanata ng FOR DADDY’S EYES ONLY!: Kabanata 221 - Kabanata 230

Sweat slicked their skin, the room thick with the scent of sex and ink. Nia bounced faster, tits jiggling, ass cheeks flexing as she impaled herself repeatedly. Vardo's free hand roamed her back, dipping to spread her cheeks, a finger circling her tight asshole, pressing just inside. The dual sensation shattered her—pussy flooding his dick, asshole clenching around the intrusion. 'Come for me,' he ordered, thumb now flicking her clit relentlessly. She shattered, orgasm ripping through her, walls milking his shaft in rhythmic pulses, juices squirting down his balls.Vardo followed seconds later, syncing with her cries. 'Mine—fuck, all mine,' he groaned, dick swelling, then erupting deep inside. Hot cum flooded her pussy, rope after thick rope painting her cervix, overflowing to drip onto the maps below. They rode the waves together, bodies locked, breaths mingling in whispers: 'No one finds out.' 'I'd kill for this.' 'Betray them both.' The words hung heavy, sealing their pact in ecsta

Nia stared at her laptop screen in the dim glow of her office, the cursor blinking accusingly over the half-formed speech. It was past midnight, the White House a labyrinth of hushed echoes and distant footsteps from night-shift staff. Vince's directive had come earlier that day, urgent and laced with frustration: counter Vardo's push for escalated arms shipments to the Middle East allies. 'Make it firm, Nia. No more half-measures. Family or not, his aggression risks everything we've built.' His words echoed in her mind, stirring the familiar ache of divided loyalties.She typed furiously, weaving rhetoric about diplomatic restraint, economic sanctions over military might, painting Vardo's stance as reckless brinkmanship that could ignite regional fires. But each sentence felt like a betrayal. Vardo's body on that jet—his tongue claiming her, fingers stretching her ass—still haunted her, It reminded her of the hold he had. Yet Vince's hand on hers, the what-ifs of gentleness, pulled a

Nia’s phone buzzed incessantly on the nightstand, pulling her from a fitful sleep. The clock read 2:17 AM, the D.C. skyline a blur of lights beyond her apartment window. She fumbled for the device, squinting at the unknown number. The message was terse: Whistleblower has docs on Harlan Arms. Meet at the old warehouse on 14th and M, 3 AM. Come alone. -V. Her stomach twisted. Vardo. The hideout he’d mentioned before, a forgotten relic from his early dealings, now a bolt-hole for crises.She dressed quickly—black jeans, a fitted sweater, practical boots—heart pounding as she slipped out into the night. The city hummed with oblivious energy, taxis slicing through rain-slicked streets, but Nia felt the noose tightening. The whistleblower’s threat had leaked into intelligence channels that afternoon: an anonymous tip to the FBI about Vardo’s off-books arms exports to unstable regimes, tied to backroom deals that skirted sanctions. If it blew open, Vince’s administration would crumble under

The Oval Office felt smaller that afternoon, sunlight slanting through the bulletproof windows as Vince Harlan leaned against the Resolute Desk, his tie loosened after a grueling briefing on the escalating whistleblower crisis. Nia stood across from him, stack of revised speech notes in hand, her mind still replaying the warehouse encounter—the toys stretching her, Vardo's commands echoing. She forced focus, outlining the counter-narrative for the press leak.Vince's eyes softened, lingering on her face longer than policy warranted. 'Nia, you've been my rock through this mess. The way you mediate, the fire in your words... it's more than professional.' He stepped closer, the scent of his cologne—clean, woodsy—cutting through the room's staleness. 'Dinner tonight? Just us. No agendas, no brothers interrupting.'Her breath caught. Vince, the man she'd idolized from afar, asking her out personally. The crush she'd buried under duty surged up, warm and insistent. 'I'd like that,' she murm

'Fuck the time,' he growled, breaking away to shove her against the wall. The concrete bit into her back, rough and unyielding, mirroring his intent. Her skirt hiked up as he gripped her thighs, lifting her effortlessly. Legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his ass. His dick strained against his trousers, grinding into her pussy through the thin barrier of her panties.Nia clawed at his shirt, nails raking his chest as she freed buttons. Muscle rippled under her touch—hard planes from relentless training. 'Vardo—someone could come down here.' The risk fueled her, pussy clenching at the danger.'Let them.' He dropped her feet to the floor, spinning her to face the wall. Hands pinned her wrists above her head with one massive grip, the other hiking her skirt fully, panties ripped down her thighs. Cool air kissed her exposed ass, cheeks parting slightly as she arched back.His belt buckle clinked, zipper rasping. Dick sprang free, thick and veined, head already leaking pre-c