All Chapters of DADDY'S NAUGHTY PET : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Emily's POV I thought the shower was the worst of it.  I was wrong.   The shower had been private—our secret, locked behind steam and thin plastic. Just him and me, his cock splitting me open while our parents cooked dinner downstairs. I could still feel the ghost of his cum leaking out of me hours later, sticky between my thighs every time I shifted in my chair at dinner. Mom asked why I was so quiet. I mumbled something about homework. Ethan just smirked across the table like he could taste me on his tongue. But day three?  Day three he took me out of the house. He didn’t ask.  Just knocked on my door at seven, tossed a black silk blindfold onto my bed, and said, “Put it on in the car. We’re leaving in five.” I stared at the fabric. Soft. Expensive. Probably one of his ex’s. The

 Emily's POV Night four.  Parents asleep down the hall.  Door locked, but the walls are thin.   I’d barely slept since the frat house.  My jaw still ached faintly from three cocks stretching it wide, my face still carried the faint sticky memory of cum even after I’d scrubbed it raw in the shower. Every time I closed my eyes I tasted them—different salts, different thicknesses, different groans—and then Ethan’s voice cutting through: Look at my little stepsister choking on real dick.My cunt hadn’t stopped throbbing since.  I’d changed my sheets twice in two days because I kept waking up soaked, thighs slick, clit begging for friction I wasn’t allowed to give.  The bet was killing me.  And I loved it. I was lying on my side, facing the do

 Emily's POV Day seven.  I could’ve won.   I could’ve held out, edged for one more night, clenched my thighs together and stared at the ceiling until the clock ticked past midnight and the bet was mine. I could’ve marched downstairs tomorrow morning, looked Ethan in the eye, and told him to delete the video. Walked away clean. Untouched. Victorious. But I didn’t want to win anymore. I wanted to lose. I wanted to be his—and theirs—for the whole summer. All day I’d been a mess—pussy swollen and sensitive from the night before, nipples hard every time I brushed against my shirt, thighs sticking together from how constantly wet I was. Every time I sat down I felt the faint ache where he’d fucked me raw, the ghost of his cum still dried between my legs. Mom asked if I wa

Cressida’s Confession(before you turn the page)I never thought I’d be the girl who ends up in a shitty motel room with two hard cocks and no regrets.But here I am, heart slamming, thighs already slick, writing this down because if I don’t get it out of my head I might combust.Jaxon’s been mine for eight months—possessive in the quiet way that makes my knees weak, the kind of man who fucks like he’s claiming territory every single time. Rylan? His cousin. The one who’s been crashing on our couch all summer, walking around shirtless, smirking like he knows exactly what I look like when I come. I caught him watching me more than once—eyes dark, jaw tight—and pretended I didn’t notice how wet it made me.Tonight the car died on a nowhere highway. One room. One bed. Half a bottle of tequila.And me—stupid, horny, brave—saying out loud what we’d all been circling for weeks:“We could make this fun instead of boring.”They didn’t laugh.They didn’t leave.Jaxon kissed me first, like alwa

The mattress dipped under our weight like it was already giving up. I knelt in the middle of the creaky queen bed, knees sinking into the thin comforter that smelled faintly of bleach and old smoke. Jaxon stood at the foot of the bed, legs planted wide, cock still shiny from being inside me earlier—thick, flushed dark at the head, a slow bead of pre-come welling up again. Rylan stayed on the edge to my right, one foot on the floor for balance, the other knee braced on the mattress so his hips were level with my face. Both of them towered over me, breathing hard, chests rising and falling in uneven rhythm.I reached out with both hands. My fingers wrapped around them at the same time—Jaxon’s familiar girth filling my left palm, hot and heavy, skin velvet-smooth over steel; Rylan’s length a little longer, the slight upward curve making my mouth water just looking at it. I stroked them slow, root to tip, feeling the way their veins pulsed under my thumbs, the way their hips jerked forwar