All Chapters of Lust For Me, Daddy's Good Girl : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Violet His fingers thrust deep again, curling perfectly inside me, and I let out another broken moan, louder this time. Every slow drag of his fingers made my hips jerk up, chasing more of his touch. My body was trembling beneath him. My walls fluttered helplessly around him, already tight, already soaked, the wet sound of my arousal echoing in the room. He knew exactly what he was doing. His palm pressed down on my lower stomach, pinning me in place, while his fingers moved in a slow, punishing rhythm, perfectly angled to keep me teetering on the edge without letting me come. “H-Hades—” I moaned, barely able to speak. My head fell back into the pillow, my body thrashing lightly under his control, my hands still pinned above my head by one of his. I couldn’t move. I could only take it. “Look at you,” he murmured, voice rough. “You look so pretty getting fucked by my fingers.” “H-Hades…Daddy” I panted, my voice barely a whisper, my hips straining against his hold. “Please—”

Hades I didn’t touch her right away. I stepped back and admired the view, her bare ass red and glowing, her thighs slick, her pussy wet. She was trembling, legs barely holding her up. I ran a hand slowly down her back She moaned. “Want to know what I see right now?” I murmured, leaning close again. “A desperate little thing who says no, but whose body says more.” She shook her head, trying to protest, but her hips pushed back into me, her wetness practically dripping down her thighs. “I think you want to come just from being punished.” “N-no…” she whispered, but even she didn’t sound convinced. “You’re dripping. Your pussy’s clenching, and I haven’t even filled you yet. I could spank you again, until you come all over this counter, you know.” My hand returned to her ass, caressing it. I spread her open with both hands, exposing everything. Her folds were flushed and needy, twitching under the cool air. I leaned down, dragging my tongue from her clit to her entrance. She sob

Violet There was no other explanation. The only reason he would buy me jeans and not a dress was to make sure I kept wearing his shirt.How the hell did he even think that far ahead?It was like every single move he made, whether intentional or not, always spun itself into some advantage for him. Maybe he didn’t mean to tear my dress last night, but the second it happened, he’d used it like a playing card in a game I didn’t know I was part of.If I was right, and I was rarely wrong about people, okay, maybe I was wrong about Matthew, but I was right about this. This wasn’t the kind of man you messed with.He was the kind who turned every situation in his favor without lifting a finger.I tried, for the hundredth time, to read his expression, but his face was frustratingly calm.He gave a lazy shrug, as if reading my mind.“You think too much,” he said, completely unbothered. “I remembered I tore your dress, so I told my secretary to grab jeans. I have plenty of shirts lying around,

Violet I looked at his shirt she was wearing, how it hung just past her thighs, loose and oversized.I honestly felt nothing.It was strange. If this were yesterday, if I were still that version of myself, I probably would’ve thrown something, shouted, and even cried.After all, a girl was wearing the shirt of someone I really loved. And that was Nora. The woman who’d spent the last year slowly making my life hell. Who wormed her way into every corner of Matthew’s attention. The girl who smiled sweetly in front of others and twisted the knife when no one was looking. But even standing here, staring up at her in his home, in his bedroom doorway, wearing his shirt, I didn’t feel rage. I didn’t feel betrayal. I didn’t feel much of anything.And how could I?What right did I have to be angry about someone else wearing my ex boyfriend’s shirt, when I was still wearing another man’s?Hades’ shirt clung loosely to my skin beneath the jeans he gave me. I could still feel him in the fabric, h

Violet I stood before the enormous school gates, eyes lifted to the towering building beyond. Students in uniforms moved past me, their heads turning, whispering as they walked by. I didn’t blame them. I probably looked like a lost street performer with a dog. My hair was a mess, I didn't have the time to brush it this morning. The baggy shirt I wore hung too long on my arms. And Tiger, my beautiful, oversized dog, sat beside me with his tongue out, mimicking my every movement like a child copying their mother. I licked the strawberry ice cream in my hand and tilted my head. Tiger tilted his head and mimicked the motion. I smiled down at him and patted his head gently. “I’m sorry, Tiger,” I muttered. “You’ve got a weird-looking master taking care of you.” Tiger barked once, excited as always. I chuckled and crouched beside him, nuzzling into his fluffy fur. “You’re such a good dog,” I whispered. “Yes, you are.” Tiger barked louder. The whispers around me grew louder. “Who