Semua Bab Dirty Daddies Underground: Bab 171 - Bab 180

Harper's POVI’m still full of their release, thick on my tongue, and the stretch of Masons pushing in makes it impossible to swallow even if I wanted to. My jaw opens wider, throat flexing around the intrusion as he feeds himself past my lips, slower than before but no less deep. Behind me, Theo’s thrusts shake through my spine, each one hitting hard enough to shove me forward onto Mason’s cock until I can’t tell who’s guiding my rhythm anymore.Their bodies move in tandem.When Mason thrusts in, Theo pulls back. When Theo rocks forward, Mason slams in harder. Their rhythm turns me into a hinge between them, every part of me held open, held still, and tight. Fingers trail along the outside of my thighs, keeping me spread. Another hand curls around the collar, tugging me back just enough to keep my spine arched and my throat stretched.I don’t know who’s touching me where anymore. They keep going, changing positions, and I've lost count of how many times they switched places.One of t

Nathan's POVShe’s trembling against me, but she still holds every drop where we told her to. Her body is a mess of sweat and wax, rope-burn and everything else, but she’s still kneeling, still spread, and still obedient. I feel her clench again as I fuck deeper, her slick walls trying to pull more from me even though she knows I already came inside her once. That’s the thing about her, she doesn’t stop needing just because we don’t give it.She’s a raw nerve now, everything burns and everything’s tight, but we’re not even close to done.I glance down the length of her back. The wax still glistens along her spine, the red marks from the blade still raised, and every inch of her skin is bare, offered, and open. She’s covered in proof of what we’ve done, but there’s still so much more of her left untouched.“Her body looks empty,” I murmur, my voice low and flat, directed toward no one in particular. “We should fix that.”Theo lets out a soft huff of laughter from where he stands off to

Theo’s POVHarper’s body trembles violently beneath my fingers as I carefully unwind the intricate knots Mason placed around her wrists and thighs, each rope slipping free leaving behind deep, reddened marks on her skin. She sways slightly, still kneeling, lips parted and swollen, messy and dripping with our release. Her limbs shake, spent from hours of teasing, denial, and punishment, but I know she isn’t finished yet. None of us are.Gently, I ease her upright, wrapping an arm securely around her waist as her legs buckle slightly. She leans into me instinctively, head resting briefly against my chest, eyes half-closed, breath uneven. I lift her carefully into my arms, cradling her against my chest, feeling the sticky warmth of wax and cum across her skin. Her hair is tangled, her face streaked, and I’ve never seen her look more beautiful, more perfectly ruined.I carry her to the bed, laying down slowly, letting her rest on my chest for just a heartbeat. Then my hands grip her hips,

Harper’s POVStepping from the warmth of the shower, steam swirls lazily around us, Theo wraps a soft towel around my shoulders, pulling me gently toward him. I can’t help but smile when he presses a tender kiss to my temple, his touch warm, lingering, soothing away the pleasant ache that still echoes faintly through my limbs.“Wait here,” he murmurs softly, stepping away just long enough to disappear into the bedroom. He returns a moment later, handing me one of his large, soft shirts, the fabric worn and comfortable against my skin.Slipping it over my head, I inhale quietly, smiling as the familiar scent of Theo envelops me, warm and masculine, bringing an unexpected wave of comfort. His eyes soften as he watches me, that intense gaze darkening slightly, admiration evident in his expression.“Looks better on you than it does on me,” he murmurs gently, fingers brushing softly down my arm.Hand-in-hand, we make our way downstairs, the house quiet and peaceful. I pause slightly at the

Theo’s POVShe’s still on my lap, warm and soft and impossibly close, her weight settled over me like she belongs there. And maybe she does. Maybe she always has.I can’t stop looking at her. Not after what she said.She didn’t say “I love you,” not exactly, but the shape of it was there. In the way she looked at me when she said she already feels it. In the way her voice softened like she was telling a secret she hadn’t even admitted to herself yet. In the way she didn’t pull away when I held her tighter, or when I kissed her like I meant it. Like I always mean it with her.I keep seeing it. Playing it back. The curve of her mouth when she said it. The hesitation in her breath. That flicker of fear just before she gave herself away. She’s not reckless with her heart, not anymore. So if she gave me even the idea of those words, it’s because she meant it.And I… I want to hear it again.But I don’t push. I just hold her, still inside her, not moving, not chasing anything. Letting the w