All Chapters of PLEASE DADDY: A Sinner's Diary : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

UNCLE’S RULES VICTOR LESNAR (ML) - 40YRSSOPHIA DERVIC (FL) - 18YRSSOPHIA’S POV I turned eighteen three months ago, but it feels like I’ve been trapped in limbo forever.After the accident—Mom and Dad gone in one cruel twist of fate—I had nowhere to go. Uncle Victor stepped in without hesitation. Mom’s older brother, the one I’d only met at holidays, the quiet giant who sent birthday cards with crisp hundred-dollar bills inside. He flew me out to his ranch in Montana the week after the funeral, and I’ve been here ever since.The ranch is isolated—acres of rolling hills, a barn that smells of hay and leather, and a big log house that echoes when it’s empty. Which it usually is. Victor works long days with the horses and the land, coming in only at dusk, sweat-slicked and silent.He’s forty now, broader and harder than the photos I remember. Six-foot-four, shoulders like barn beams, dark hair threaded with early silver, jaw shadowed even when he shaves. Tattoos from his Marine days

MY FATHER'S BEST FRIEND HARPER HAYES (FL) - 21YRSROMAN BLACKWOOD (ML) - 43YRSHARPER’S POV I stand in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, smoothing down the short black pencil skirt that clings to my hips like a second skin. It’s professional enough for the office, but the way it stops mid-thigh and rides up with every step makes it feel deliciously risky. I pair it with a crisp white blouse, leaving the top two buttons undone so a hint of black lace bra peeks through. My long blonde hair cascades in loose waves over my shoulders, and I swipe on red lipstick that makes my full lips pop against my pale skin. At twenty-one, I know exactly how I look—curvy, confident, irresistible. And today, every bit of it is for him.Roman Blackwood. My dad’s best friend since college, business partner for the last fifteen years, and the man who’s haunted my fantasies since I hit puberty. He’s forty-three now, divorced, all sharp edges and controlled power. Tall, with broad shoulders th

SUMMER TUTOR 2CHLOE’S POV The next afternoon drags like molasses. I spend the morning pretending to read on the back porch, but my eyes keep drifting to the guest house path. Every rustle of leaves makes my pulse jump, imagining Elias walking over early. He doesn’t. He’s disciplined like that—always on time, never early, never late.At exactly three o’clock, the sliding door opens and he steps into the kitchen carrying his notebook and a fresh mug of coffee. Today he’s in a light gray button-down, sleeves rolled to the elbows, and dark jeans that hug his narrow hips. His hair is still damp from a shower, curling slightly at the ends. He smells clean, like soap and something woodsy.“Ready?” he asks, setting his things on the island.I nod, already seated with my laptop open. I’ve changed since yesterday—into a pale blue sundress that skims my thighs when I sit, thin straps and no bra because the heat is unbearable. My hair is up in a loose knot, a few strands framing my face.We di

ROGUE'S CLAIM LILA’S POV The forest is darker than I imagined, the kind of dark that swallows sound and light. My backpack digs into my shoulders, heavy with the few clothes and cash I grabbed before slipping out my bedroom window three nights ago. Eighteen years under my parents’ strict rules, church every Sunday, no boys, no parties, curfew at nine even in senior year, and I finally snapped. I hitchhiked as far as the money allowed, then started walking, drawn to these woods by some stupid romantic notion of freedom.Now, freedom feels like terror.Branches snag my jeans, the roots trip me in the moonlight filtering through the canopy. My phone died yesterday, no signal anyway. I’m lost, hungry, and the howls I’ve been hearing for hours are getting closer.I freeze at a low growl ahead. Yellow eyes gleam between trees, too many. Wolves. Real ones, bigger than any I’ve seen in zoos, circling me slowly.My heart slams against my ribs. I back up, my hands out. “Nice puppies… stay…”

ROGUE'S CLAIM 3LILA’S POV The mating heat hits like a wildfire in the middle of the third night.I wake up gasping, my body slick with sweat, every inch of my skin burning. The small cabin feels too hot, and too small. My thighs are soaked, my clit throbbing so hard it hurts. Draven’s scent is everywhere—on the furs, on me, in me. It drives the ache deeper, until I’m writhing, my hands pressing between my legs for relief that never comes.Draven is already awake, sitting by the dying fire, his eyes glowing gold in the dark. His chest rises and falls fast, his muscles tense, his cock hard and jutting against his stomach. He’s been watching me, fighting it.“Lila,” he growls, his voice raw. “It’s here.”I roll toward him, my dress tangled around my waist, my breasts bare and heaving. “Make it stop. Please.”He crawls over me, body heat rolling off him in waves. His mouth crashes onto mine, desperate, and devouring. His tongue strokes deep, tasting my need. I moan into him, my nails