Lahat ng Kabanata ng Daddy's secret Obsession: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

JESSYThe car skidded to a halt inches from the cliff's edge, dust clouding the air like a veil over our near-death. My heart hammered, adrenaline surging through every vein, making my skin tingle and my breath come in ragged gasps. Mark's face was etched with raw emotion—jaw clenched, eyes fierce—as he turned to me, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Jessy, I love you." The words hung between us like a lifeline, a confession ripped from the depths of his soul amid the screech of tires and the echo of gunshots fading into the night.I stared at him, my chest heaving, the world narrowing to just us in this stolen moment. The chase had been terrifying—those headlights closing in, the bullets whizzing past—but now, with the engine ticking cool and the canyon sprawling below like a dark abyss, all I felt was an overwhelming need. For him. For the man who'd protected me, haunted my dreams, and now owned my heart. Uncle Mark, step-uncle, whatever label society slapped on it—it didn't ma

JESSYThe motel sign flickered like a dying heartbeat— "No Vacancy" one second, then buzzing back to life with a dim glow that barely cut through the fog rolling in from the desert. Mark pulled the car into the shadows behind the building, killing the engine with a grunt. My body was still buzzing from the chase, every nerve endings alive, my pussy aching from the rough pounding in the back seat earlier. His cum was dried on my skin, a sticky reminder under my hastily pulled-on clothes, and every shift in the seat made me wince and want more at the same time. God, how had we gotten here? Running from mobsters, fucking like animals in stolen moments—my step-uncle turning me into his personal slut. But I craved it, the danger sharpening the desire like a blade."Stay put," Mark ordered, his voice low and rough, eyes scanning the parking lot for threats. He slipped out, gun tucked in his waistband, and vanished into the office. I sat there, heart pounding, fingers tracing the bruises o

MARK The study in my hilltop mansion felt like a sanctuary after the chaos we'd endured—bullet-riddled escapes, border runs, and nights where Jessy's screams of pleasure drowned out the sirens in my head. We'd made it back home, somehow. Park and his syndicate had crumbled under their own weight, internal betrayals and a tip to the feds sealing their fate. No more shadows lurking, no more guns drawn in the dead of night. Jessy was safe, back in her world of college classes and part-time gigs, but the pull between us hadn't faded. If anything, it had intensified, a forbidden flame that burned hotter with every stolen glance, every whispered "Daddy" in the dark. I leaned back in my leather chair, the city lights twinkling below like distant stars, my mind drifting to her. Jessy—my step-niece, the girl who'd turned my controlled life into a whirlwind of desire. Just yesterday, she'd snuck over after her mom went to bed, her body pressed against mine in this very room. "Fuck me

But my phone buzzed again insistent this time cutting through the hum of the café like a secret I couldn't ignore. I glanced down heart skipping as Mark's name flashed on the screen. *Miss you already. Come home. Need to feel that tight pussy around my cock.* The words hit me like a jolt heat pooling between my legs even as Elorm watched me with those sharp eyes of hers the ones that missed nothing. "Earth to Jessy" she said snapping her fingers with a laugh. "Who's got you smiling like that? The mystery guy?" I shoved the phone in my pocket face flushing as I forced a casual shrug. "Just... work stuff. Part-time gig reminder." She rolled her eyes sipping her latte the foam clinging to her upper lip like a mustache. "Uh-huh. Sure. But seriously girl back to what I asked. No one's messed with your v-card right? I mean you're glowing but in that 'I-haven't-slept' way. Spill the tea." I sat there quietly for some seconds the steam from my fresh coffee curling up between us like a

JESSYElorm's question hung in the air like smoke from a forbidden cigarette, curling around us in the bustling café. "I hope no man has messed with your v-card, right?" she asked again, her eyes sparkling with that mix of concern and gossip-hungry curiosity that only best friends could pull off. The fountain outside bubbled cheerfully, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside me, and the scent of fresh espresso mingled with the vanilla from her latte, grounding me just enough to form words.I sat there quietly for some seconds, the steam from my coffee rising like the heat flushing my cheeks. Ordering it had been a stall tactic, a way to buy time while my mind raced. V-card. Virginity. The term felt so juvenile now, so utterly detached from the woman Mark had awakened in me. How could I tell her that my "v-card" wasn't just gone—it was obliterated, claimed in a frenzy of sweat and screams by the one man I should never have wanted? My step-uncle, the forbidden fruit who'd turne