All Chapters of Daddy's Lessons in Pleasure - Erotica Collection: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

◆◆◆ Chapter 4 ◆◆◆ After that night on the couch, the dam broke.We didn’t have sex yet. Theo was adamant about waiting until I was absolutely certain, but everything short of that was fair game. He’d pull me onto his lap during game footage or mindless TV, hands slipping under my shirt to trace lazy circles over my ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts until my nipples hardened and I squirmed against the thick ridge of him beneath me. I’d interrupt his film sessions with kisses that started soft and turned desperate, fingers knotted in his hair, his grip bruising my hips leaving marks I’d later trace in the shower like hidden keepsakes.We explored each other in every room except the bedrooms.Kitchen counter: me perched on the edge, legs locked around his waist as he kissed down my neck and ground against me through our clothes until I came with a shocked, muffled cry against his shoulder. Living room floor: him flat on his back, me straddling his face while he licked me

◆◆◆ Chapter 1 ◆◆◆The security footage was undeniable.There I was, Sloane Harper, junior data analyst at WillianTech Industries, using a cloned keycard to slip into the executive server room at 11:47 PM. Downloading seventeen classified files on proprietary AI learning models worth millions, to a thumb drive. The kind of intellectual property Apex Tech would pay fifteen million dollars to steal.And standing beside me in the dimly lit conference room, watching the playback with unnerving calm, was the man I’d stolen them from.Cody Willian. CEO. Thirty-four. Billionaire. Dark hair, sharp jaw, eyes that dissected you in seconds. Silicon Valley legend.“So,” he said, voice smooth and low, “want to explain why you’re selling my company’s secrets to my competitors?”I opened my mouth, closed it. The footage froze on my face — guilty, focused, unmistakable. Lying was pointless.“You cloned Elena Morrison’s keycard two weeks ago,” he continued. “Accessed server room three last Thursday. Do

◆◆◆ Chapter 3 ◆◆◆ The tech industry’s annual gala was the event of the season. I walked in on Cody Willian’s arm, wearing the deep crimson gown he’d had delivered to my apartment that afternoon. The fabric clung like liquid silk, slit high on one thigh, back plunging low enough to make breathing feel dangerous. Every eye in the grand ballroom tracked our entrance.“They’re staring,” I murmured, pulse already fluttering.“Let them.” His hand settled possessively at the small of my back, thumb brushing bare skin just above the waistline. “You’re beautiful, and you’re with me. They should stare.” His voice dropped. “Relax, Sloane. Enjoy this.”The night felt surreal. We moved through clusters of tech giants, venture capitalists, and rival CEOs like we owned the room, which, in Cody’s case, wasn’t far from the truth. He introduced me simply as his “companion,” no elaboration, letting the ambiguity do the work. I shook hands, smiled, accepted compliments on the dress, all while hyperawar

◆◆◆ Chapter 5 ◆◆◆ We returned from the island in silence.The private jet felt smaller on the way back, the vast ocean outside the windows a reminder of everything that had been exposed. Cody didn’t try to fill the quiet with explanations or apologies. He simply worked on his laptop for a while, then closed it and stared out at the clouds, giving me space. I appreciated it, even if I wasn’t ready to admit anything else.At the airport, as the car waited to take us separate ways, he finally spoke.“You don’t have to come tonight,” he said, voice low. “The footage is already deleted. I deleted it before the first night. You’re free to walk away.”I stared at him, the words hitting like cold water. “What?”“The leverage was gone from the beginning, Sloane. I was never going to use it. These five nights, I hoped you’d choose them because you wanted to, not because you felt forced.”“You manipulative…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence, anger and confusion twisting together. “You lied.”

◆◆◆ Chapter 2 ◆◆◆The storm didn’t break. The weather radar showed nothing but angry red and purple swirling over the region; the airline sent another blanket email about indefinite delays and complimentary hotel vouchers. We were stuck another day.I spent the afternoon in the business center, laptop open, prepping slides for the Singapore conference — whenever it finally happened. I looked up once and saw her crossing the lobby in running gear: black leggings, cropped jacket, earbuds in, hair pulled high. Our eyes met across the glass partition. She gave me the smallest smile, then kept walking without breaking stride.The not-acknowledging was part of the game. We weren’t supposed to exist to each other outside those nightly hours. Yet the brief eye contact lingered like static under my skin.That night I arrived at her room at 8:58, bottle of decent red wine in hand.She opened the door in the same white hotel robe, hair already loose. “Breaking the rules,” she said, but stepped a