All Chapters of Daddy's filthy little pet : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Rae’s POV I wasn’t supposed to say it out loud. But I did.Sitting on the edge of Zara’s bed, clutching a throw pillow like it could swallow my shame.“I still haven’t lost it,” I muttered, eyes fixed on the floor.Zara’s head snapped around. “Wait. Still?! I thought you and Caleb-?”“Yeah, that’s the problem.” I groaned. “We tried. And by tried, I mean... he couldn’t even get it in.”Zara’s jaw dropped. “You’re joking.”“I wish I was.”I sank deeper into the pillow, face burning. “It was awkward. He kept apologizing, saying he was nervous. And I…I just couldn’t stop overthinking. Then his mom called, and that was the end of it.”Zara blinked. Then covered her mouth like she was about to explode.And she did. Into laughter.“Oh my God, Rae. You poor, innocent cupcake.”“Don’t laugh! I’m so traumatized.”“I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at boys,” she said, flopping beside me. “You deserve better than some soft-spoken college baby who doesn’t know the difference between a G-spot

Rae's POV He kissed me until I couldn’t breathe.Until my thighs squeezed around his hips and my fingers clutched his shoulders like I was holding on for dear life.He pulled back only slightly - his lips brushing mine, breaths mingling.Then he said it. Voice low, dark, raw.“I’m not usually gentle, kitten.”My heart stuttered.“I like it rough. I like begging. I like making good girls cry.”He ran his thumb across my lower lip.“But tonight… because it’s your first-”He kissed me again. Slower this time. Softer. Sweeter. But the tension in his body told me just how much he was holding back.“Tonight, I’ll be a little gentle,” he whispered. “But just a little.”His lips dropped to my neck again, kissing, licking, sucking slowly as his hand slid down between my thighs.I gasped as his fingers brushed against the soaked fabric of my panties.“You’re already dripping for me,” he growled, voice vibrating against my throat.“So fucking wet… and I haven’t even tasted you yet.”My back arc

Rae's POV I woke up for the 2nd time feeling like my entire body had been rewritten.I lay there in Zara’s bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every second. I left there earlier and headed to Zara’s place. His hands. His mouth.The way he whispered praise like it was holy. The tongue piercing.The kiss on my forehead after I came so hard I forgot my name.I pressed my legs together.And still - my body tingled.“Rae?” Zara’s voice broke through the haze. “You alive?”I turned my head slowly.She stood at the door with two mugs of coffee and the world’s most annoying smirk.“Well,” she drawled. “Do I get the post-sin breakdown or what?”I groaned. “I’m too sore to sit up.”She squealed, jumping onto the bed like a 5-year-old.“No way. Was he hot? Like hot hot?”I blinked. “He had a tongue piercing.”Zara dropped her mug on the nightstand like she’d just heard God speak.“You’re joking.”“Nope.”“On his tongue?!”“And tattoos. Everywhere.”Zara clutched her chest. “Oh, you definite

Rae’s POVThe kitchen tile was cold against my bare knees, but the heat pouring off him made everything else disappear.Killian towered over me, one hand still tangled loosely in my hair, the other lazily tracing my swollen bottom lip with his thumb. His sweatpants were slung so low I could see the sharp cut of his V, the dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband. The outline of him,thick, heavy, already straining made my mouth water before I’d even touched him.He tilted my chin higher, blue eyes burning.“Show me what that pretty mouth can do, kitten.”I licked my lips on purpose, slow and deliberate, letting him see the shine of it. His jaw flexed.“Someone’s feeling brave tonight,” he murmured, voice rough.I smiled up at him, small, wicked, nothing like the shy girl who walked into Room 47. “Seven whole days, Daddy,” I whispered. “I’ve got a lot to prove.”His fingers tightened in my hair, just enough to make my scalp tingle.I leaned forward and nuzzled my cheek a

Rae’s POV The water was perfect hot enough to melt every last knot in my muscles, lavender curling up in the steam, bubbles thick enough to hide the bruises blooming on my hips. Killian knelt beside the porcelain, forearms flexing every time he dipped the soft washcloth. He started at my shoulders, slow circles that made me sigh and sink deeper. The cloth trailed down my arms, over my wrists, between each finger like he was memorizing me. When he reached my neck he leaned in, brushed his lips against the shell of my ear, and kissed the spot just below it soft, lingering, tasting my skin. “You smell like me now,” he murmured, voice low and satisfied. I shivered despite the heat. He moved to my collarbones, tracing them with the cloth, then lower. When he reached my breasts he paused, eyes flicking to mine asking without words. I nodded, barely breathing. The cloth glided over one nipple, then the other, gentle but deliberate. My back arched on instinct. He dropped t