Semua Bab Dirty Daddies Underground: Bab 161 - Bab 170

Harper's POVHe mutters something under his breath and walks out of the room laughing, Mason still chuckling as he follows.Theo leans in, brushing his lips across my temple. “He’s not wrong.”“I’ll be good,” I whisper, catching his hand as I turn to follow the others. “Until dessert.”His laugh is low, soft against my ear. “Dangerous girl.”I don’t deny it.They walk out to get ready. As soon as the door closes behind the last of them, I bolt.My heart is still racing from the look Theo gave me, from the quiet pride in Mason’s eyes, from the way Nathan—Mr. Composed—had to look away when I started crying. They did this for me. All of them. No hesitation. No strings. And that does something to me. Something bold. Something wicked.By the time I get to my room, I already know what I’m wearing.I dig out the black PVC lingerie set, the one I bought but never dared to wear. It fits like a second skin, all gloss and wicked shine. The top pushes everything up and in, the bottoms hugging my

Nathan’s POVThe clink of silverware on ceramic fades into the background, dulled by the soft hum of conversation and low jazz curling through the restaurant like smoke. The lighting is dim, golden, the kind that slips over skin like a lover’s touch, softening everything, hiding too much.Harper, seated across from me, looks like sin bottled up in silk and smugness. She’s lounging like she owns the whole damn place, one leg crossed over the other beneath the table, her lips curved in a smile that’s too serene to be trusted. She lifts her glass, takes a small sip of wine, and sets it back down with the kind of deliberate grace that tells me she’s up to something, again.I narrow my eyes, watching her closer, watching the way her fingers toy with the stem of her glass, the way she keeps shifting in her seat like she can’t get comfortable.“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice low.She lifts her eyes to mine, innocence painted in every blink. “Nothing.”I snort softly and lean in, elbows

Theo's POVBefore she can speak, before she can try to push again, I hear the familiar sound of boots against polished floor. Mason and Nathan step out from the hallway that leads to the back of the restaurant, both of them composed, both pretending they weren’t the ones walking away from her minutes ago.“Are you two ready to go?” Mason asks, voice casual, but I see the way his eyes flick to her, curious and cautious.Harper sighs, loud and dramatic, her head falling back just slightly. “I don’t know,” she says, drawing out the words. “I really wanted another orgasm.”I don’t even look at her. I just answer for us both. “We’re ready.”Nathan doesn’t miss a beat. “Good. She’s going home with you. We’ll meet you there later. We have something to sort first.”I catch the edge in his voice, the lingering restraint. She pushed him hard tonight, and he’s still nursing the bruise to his pride. Mason gives her one last glance before they both turn and walk off, not waiting for a reply.Harpe

Harper's POVThen breath grazes my cheek, warm and steady. A kiss brushes the corner of my mouth, soft but claiming. Behind me, someone kneels. I feel their hand wrap around the rope pulled taut at the small of my back. The grip is steady, grounding. And then the cold flash of a piercing presses against the inside of my thigh, followed by the sharp push of someone’s cock sliding deep inside of me.My whole body arches and a whimper leaks out around the gag. It’s Theo. It has to be. The piercing confirms it, but so does the way his hands grip my thighs, spreading them wider, forcing me into the exact position he wants. He holds me open and still, his thrusts hitting hard and fast without hesitation.I feel the gag loosen, and then it’s gone.But I don’t shut my mouth.I tilt my head instead and let my tongue slide forward, a silent challenge in the shape of a tease. Someone grabs my chin, their fingers digging in just enough to remind me that whatever I think I’m offering, they’ll take

Harper's POVThe loss of Mason inside me leaves a hollow that aches almost worse than the denial. My walls flutter around nothing, grasping at empty air, still slick and pulsing, still desperate to be filled. The ropes burn faintly as I shift, I'm damp and trembling from how long they’ve kept me spread and aching. My body feels wrecked already, but I’m still reaching for something I know I won’t be allowed to have.Fingers trail between my thighs, dipping briefly into the mess they’ve made, gathering slickness and spreading it across the tender skin where I’m still open and waiting. I can’t tell who it is, but the way the hand grips my hip a moment later tells me I won’t be empty for long.The weight returns behind me, solid and steady, and then I feel the blunt pressure of another cock sliding into me. It stretches me open again, slower this time, not because of mercy but because the one behind me wants me to feel every inch as it claims what everyone has left unfinished. It’s deeper