Semua Bab Daddy's Lessons in Pleasure - Erotica Collection: Bab 111 - Bab 120

Chapter 1: The funeral was small, and tasteful, the kind of polished lie Lewis Hall’s family would stage. Alison Graves stood at the back of the chapel, black coat buttoned to her throat, watching mourners pass the closed casket. Cold satisfaction settled in her chest. He was finally gone.She’d driven eight hours from Boston uninvited. She needed to see the box lowered, needed proof the monster couldn’t crawl back.Then she saw her.Across the aisle, black sheath dress, dark hair cropped short, stood Reese Dawson. Their eyes locked. Reese’s widened in shock, then narrowed — anger, grief, recognition. She looked away first, jaw tight.The eulogy erased everything: Lewis the devoted son, brilliant consultant, taken too soon by a heart attack. No mention of rage fits, gaslighting, the way he’d isolated both women from everyone during the years he claimed them separately.Alison’s nails bit into her palms. She’d come to confirm death; hearing him sainted made her want to scream every tr

Chapter 1 Eve’s POVThe house was too quiet after the funeral, the kind of silence that presses against your eardrums and makes every heartbeat sound obscene.I sat on the edge of the king-sized bed in the dark, still wearing the black crepe dress that clung to my skin like damp sin. It smelled of funeral lilies, cheap incense, and the sour regret that had settled permanently in my throat. Michael’s side of the mattress stayed cold, the indentation of his head still visible on the pillow like a ghost refusing to leave. I stared at it until my eyes burned.If only I hadn’t been drunk that day.The fight replayed in vicious loops. Three glasses of pinot at lunch, two more when he came home early smelling faintly of her perfume. I’d screamed about the late nights, the deleted messages, the way he’d started locking his phone. He’d shouted back that I was paranoid, controlling, drunk. Then he’d stormed out into the rain-slick canyon road. Twenty minutes later two uniformed officers stood

Chapter 1 McLane’s POVThe living room was hushed except for the soft scratch of Zara’s pen and the occasional rustle of paper. She sat cross-legged on the couch in tiny cotton sleep shorts that rode high on her thighs and a thin white tank top so worn it was nearly transparent. Her dark hair spilled over one shoulder, brushing the swell of her breast as she chewed the end of the pen, eyes focused on her relocation checklist. Twenty-two, college diploma still fresh in its frame upstairs, five days until she boarded a plane to Vegas and a six-figure tech job that would rewrite her entire life.I sat in the armchair across from her, pretending to read the list while my gaze kept drifting to the way her nipples pebbled against the fabric, dark shadows under white cotton. I cleared my throat. “Passport, birth certificate, lease signed, car shipped, furniture ordered… looks solid, kiddo.” I handed the paper back. “You’re really all set.”Zara bit her lower lip, cheeks blooming pink. “The

Chapter 3 Nick’s POVThat threesome was the hottest night of my life.Watching Zara take both of us, her stepfather and her stepbrother, her lithe body trembling and glistening between us, moaning like she’d been born to be split open on family cock… I’d never come so hard. The sight of her lips stretched around McLane’s shaft while I pounded her dripping pussy from behind, the way her eyes rolled back every time we synced our thrusts, the obscene wet sounds filling the room…it burned itself into my brain. I replayed it on loop all morning at the gym, cock half-hard in my shorts, counting reps just to keep from thinking too hard about how badly I wanted more.By early afternoon I couldn’t wait any longer.I came home early from the gym, sweat-soaked tank clinging to my chest, gym bag hitting the floor the second I saw Zara alone in the living room. She was sprawled on the couch in nothing but one of my old football jerseys, too big, slipping off one shoulder, hem barely covering the

Chapter 2 Shirley’s POVI knew exactly what I was doing.Ryan was sweet. Stable. The kind of man who looked good on paper with a steady job, nice car, polite to my parents. In bed? Vanilla to the point of boredom. He’d eat me out for exactly three minutes like it was a chore, fuck me missionary for four, come with a quiet grunt, roll over, and start snoring. Every. Single. Time. No variation. No edge. No danger.But his little brother?Nineteen. Freshman-year energy. Starving in a way that made my clit throb just from the way he looked at me the second he walked through the door — like he wanted to drop to his knees, bury his face between my thighs, and never come up for air. Hung like a fucking dream, I’d clocked the thick outline in his jeans the first night. And the hunger in his eyes? It made my pussy clench every time he shifted uncomfortably at the dinner table.Catching him jerking off to my bikini photos was the hottest thing that had happened to me in years. The sight of him