All Chapters of Daddy's secret Obsession: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

"Oh god, you're so big," I whimpered, adjusting to the stretch. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me as I started to ride him—slow at first, then faster, bouncing on his dick with abandon. My tits jiggled with each thrust, and he reached up to pinch my nipples, sending jolts straight to my clit. "Fuck, Jessy, you're tight," he grunted, thrusting up to meet me, our bodies slapping together in a rhythm that echoed through the room. Sweat slicked our skin, the air thick with the scent of sex. I leaned down, kissing him messily, tasting myself on his lips as he pounded into me from below. One hand slid between us, his fingers rubbing my clit in tight circles, building me up again. "Harder," I demanded, and he obliged, flipping me onto all fours without pulling out. He slammed back in from behind, deep and rough, his balls slapping against me. One hand fisted my hair, pulling my head back as he fucked me relentlessly, the angle hitting my G-spot perfectly. "Yes, just like that... fuck

The days blurred into a fever of stolen hours, but nothing prepared me for the night I showed up bleeding.Day three of my period, the heavy flow day, cramps twisting low in my belly like a fist. I almost texted to cancel, but the ache between my legs wasn’t just cramps anymore; it was him. I needed him more than I needed to be clean or proper or sane.I knocked on his door in an oversized hoodie and leggings, no makeup, hair in a messy bun, clutching a hot-water bottle like a coward. He took one look at me and pulled me inside without a word.“You okay, baby?” he murmured, palms cupping my face.“I’m on my period,” I mumbled, cheeks burning. “Like… really on it. It’s gross. I shouldn’t have come, I just—”He kissed me quiet. Slow. Deep. Then pulled back just enough to grin against my lips.“Jessy, I don’t care about a little blood. I care about you hurting.”I laughed, shaky. “It’s not a little. It’s a crime scene.”His eyes went dark, that hungry spark I knew too well. “Then let’s c

Morning came too soon.I woke up on Mark’s chest, his heartbeat steady under my ear, the blanket tangled around our legs. For one long, perfect minute I just breathed him in, safe, warm, wanted. Then the cramps hit again, low and vicious, like my body was reminding me the world still existed outside this couch.I slipped out from under his arm without waking him, padded to the bathroom, and swallowed two ibuprofen dry. My phone was on the counter, screen cracked from when I’d dropped it last night. Twelve missed calls from Mom,jeffery and Elorm. A string of worried texts from Mom: In Aunty's place till Friday, baby. You okay? You’ve been so quiet. Call me....Guilt twisted, sharp and familiar. I typed a quick lie: All good, Ma. Exams week, buried in books. Love you.Then I opened Elorm’s contact and pressed call before I could overthink it.She picked up on the second ring. “Jessy? Ei, I’ve been texting you since Friday! Where you dey?”“I’m… around,” I said, voice hoarse. “List

MarkI was supposed to be waiting.I’d kept the red sheet on the bed for three days straight, washed it once, then put it right back on because it still smelled faintly of her blood and vanilla and us. Rice was simmering on the stove, plantains frying, Sobolo chilling. I’d even lit the stupid vanilla candle she likes. At 4:17 p.m. my phone lit up with the text I’d been living for:"Exams DONE baby red lace under my jeans, coming straight to you, uncle."I stared at those words until they blurred. My thumb hovered. My chest caved in like someone had punched through bone.This was the moment. Exams over. Her mother back in town. Family WhatsApp blowing up about graduation dinners. Reality was here, and reality hated us.I locked the phone. Turned it face-down. Poured a whiskey I didn’t drink. And started the silence I convinced myself was mercy.By 7 p.m. she still hadn’t shown. By 9 p.m. the food was cold. By midnight the candle had burned itself out.I told myself she was with frien

MarkThe next six weeks are a fever dream we live inside the flat.Jessy moves in the same day she tells me. One duffel bag, her laptop, a teddy bear she’s had since primary school. She never goes back to her mother’s house. I clear out half my closet without being asked. Her vanilla body-wash appears in my shower. Her prenatal vitamins sit on the kitchen counter next to my coffee beans. The red sheet stays on the bed permanently now; we decided it’s the flag of our new country.She is sick every morning. I learn the exact second the nausea hits, how to hold her hair, how to press a cold cloth to the back of her neck while she retches. I learn the sound of her crying in the bathroom because she’s terrified her body is already ruined at eighteen. I learn to fuck her slow from behind when the only position that doesn’t make her vomit is on her knees, belly hanging, my palm spread over the tiny curve that’s only just starting to show.We tell no one.We live on stolen time.I go to wor