Lahat ng Kabanata ng FOR DADDY’S EYES ONLY!: Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

Julius's fingers dug deeper into Harper's waist, his grip like iron bands bruising her already tender skin.He pulled out abruptly, his cock slick and throbbing, leaving her pussy clenching around emptiness, juices trickling down her inner thighs.Harper whimpered at the sudden loss, her body sagging against the wall, but he didn't let her recover.With a rough yank, he dragged her toward the door, his muscular arm wrapped around her middle, hauling her like she weighed nothing.The room blurred as he shoved the door open, pulling her into the shadowed hallway beyond.The air hit cooler here, carrying faint echoes of the office building's distant hum, but Harper's world narrowed to the heat of his body and the ache pulsing in her core.He slammed her against the cold wall of the corridor, the unyielding surface jarring her back and pinning her perky tits flat.Harper's breath exploded out in a gasp, nipples hardening further from the chill biting her sweat-slick skin.'Julius—fuck, he

'No,' she said coldly, pulling back further, her curvy body coiling with rejection even as her pussy ached for his touch. 'I'm not interested. Are you blind? Look at me—I'm in a vegetative state, sore as hell from you fucking me so rough last time, my walls still numb from your big cock slamming into me. I can't even feel my pussy right now, and you still want to kiss me like nothing's wrong?'He paused, breath hitching, his gaze dropping to her body, taking in the disheveled state—the tangled hair, the bite marks peeking from under the sheet, the faint tremble in her limbs. Guilt flickered in his eyes, mixed with that hungry lust that always simmered beneath.'I'm sorry for hurting you so good,' he murmured, voice rough with regret and desire, his cock twitching visibly in his slacks at the memory of their last frantic fuck.He tried again, leaning in to claim her mouth, but Harper shoved his chest, her palms flat against the hard muscle.'Get out of my house, Raymond,' she demanded,

Harper's was literally at the verge of a concussion from the heightened sensual tryst she was having, her pussy clenched around nothing as Raymond's tongue plunged deep, lapping up every drop of Julius's cum seasoned with her fresh pussy juices. The wet slurps of his mouth on her swollen folds sent jolts through her core, her perky breasts heaving with each ragged breath. Julius's fingers pumped into Raymond's ass, stretching him wide, the senator's groans vibrating against her clit, pushing her closer to the edge.But Julius yanked his fingers free with a wet pop, his thick cock still hard and glistening from Raymond's reluctant suck. His eyes locked on Harper, burning with ruthless hunger, refusing to let the moment slip from his control.He lunged forward, grabbing Harper by the ankles and dragging her off the bed. She yelped, her curvy body hitting the floor hard, the carpet rough against her sweat-slick skin.'No more watching, slut,' Julius growled, his muscular frame looming o

The brass lettering on the door read simply: The Overtons. It was discreet, elegant, and whispered wealth like Chloe imagined. Everything about the place screamed the kind of refined, untouchable success that her uncle, Chef Marcus Brown, only dreamed of achieving.Chloe Brown clutched her portfolio, the paper crinkling under her sweaty palm. It was exactly 10:47 AM. The application window for the Pastry Chef role had closed at ten sharp.She pushed open the door and stepped into a reception area that felt less like a restaurant office and more like a minimalist art gallery. Two women sat behind a sleek, granite desk. The older one, with a severe blonde bob and a tightly buttoned blouse, looked up, her expression freezing into a look of professional disapproval.“Yes?” the woman asked, her tone dry as day-old toast.“Good morning. I’m Chloe Brown. I’m here for the Pastry Chef application,” Chloe said, trying to sound as confident and put-together as the perfectly arranged orchid on t

The kitchen doors loomed like a gateway to a battlefield, heavy stainless steel vibrating with the organized chaos within in the hands of chefs wielding it.Chloe took a steadying breath and pushed through, her brand new chef’s white sitting pretty around her body. But they nothing the whites on the flour-dusted veterans already on the line.The air was choked with the scent of reduced stock and burning caramel. Pots clanged, sharp commands were barked around, and the sizzle of pans was a constant drumbeat. It was a high-pressure symphony, and Chloe loved it immediately.She spotted him almost instantly: Richard. He was near the chopping station, a lanky man in his late twenties, efficiently slicing a mountain of shallots. He looked up, catching her eye, and offered a genuinely friendly wave, a beacon of warmth in the intensity.“New girl?” he called over the noise, wiping his hands on a towel. “Chloe, right? Gordon mentioned you’d be starting. Pastry station’s over there—get set up.”