All Chapters of Forbidden Daddy Desires: Steamy MM : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

His lips were on my neck. It wasn’t a kiss. It was a demonstration. A lesson in pure, unadulterated sensation. His mouth was hot, open, and he was sucking on the sensitive skin just below my ear, his tongue tracing a slow, deliberate circle. My mind went blank. My body took over. My head fell back against the wall with a soft thud, a silent offering. “Feel that?” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive rumble against my skin. “That’s how you describe a shiver. Not ‘a chill ran down his spine.’ That’s lazy writing. This… this is real.” He bit down, a sharp, stinging nip that made me cry out, my hips jerking forward involuntarily. The pain was a spark, and the pleasure was the gasoline that followed, an inferno that threatened to consume me whole. “That’s a gasp,” he continued, his voice a low, triumphant growl. “It’s not just a sound. It’s a physical reaction. A sharp intake of breath. A sudden contraction of the diaphragm. Your body is trying to process the stimulus. The pain. The

I read the words over and over, my thumb hovering over the screen until it went dark. My cock, which had been aching and semi-hard since I’d stumbled out of his room, was now rock solid again, a thick, demanding pressure against my thigh. A shiver of pure, undiluted lust—so intense it was almost painful—ran through me. This was it. The next lesson. The next twenty-four hours were a special kind of torture. I went through my day in a daze, my body a live wire of nervous energy. In my morning lecture, I could still smell him, a phantom scent of musk and dominance. I could still feel the hard line of his body against mine, the stinging bite of his teeth on my neck. My professor’s voice was a dull, meaningless drone. All I could think about was 9 PM. What was he going to do to me? The text was explicit. The part where the main character gets on his knees. My stomach clenched with a mixture of terror and a sick, dark excitement. I knew what that meant. Or at least, I thought I did. I’d r

The first crack in my perfect, stupid world appeared at 2:17 AM. It wasn’t a sound. It was a buzz. A low, insistent vibration against the nightstand, right next to my head. Jake was dead asleep beside me, snoring like a fucking chainsaw, one heavy arm thrown over my waist, pinning me to the mattress. He was a dead weight, a ball and chain I’d willingly clamped to my ankle. I was wide awake, a knot of dread tightening in my gut for no reason at all, a cold slither of premonition. Then it buzzed again. A text. I told myself to leave it. To roll over, to bury my face in the pillow and pretend it didn’t exist. Privacy and all that. But the dread was a snake, and my curiosity was a bastard. I wriggled out from under Jake’s sweaty arm, my movements slow and careful in the dark room. The air was thick with the smell of his sleep-warm body and the faint, stale scent of the beer he’d been drinking earlier. I picked up his phone. The screen was still lit, a single notification glaring up at me

I stared at the message, my mind reeling. Ten minutes. I looked at myself in the mirror again, at the wild, desperate look in my eyes. I was already pulling on my jeans, my hands fumbling with the button. There was no decision to be made. The game was on. The ten-minute drive to Oakhaven Drive was the longest of my life. Every red light was an eternity. Every car that drove past me was a potential witness to my own self-destruction. My cock was a hard, aching line against my thigh, a traitorous testament to the sick, dark thrill of it all. I was going to the lion’s den. And I was wearing the sheep’s clothing, but underneath, I was a wolf, hungry for blood. His house was exactly what I expected. Immaculate. A two-story craftsman with a perfectly manicured lawn and a front door that looked like it belonged on a bank vault. It screamed ‘money’ and ‘control’ and ‘no fucking around.’ It was the kind of house that swallowed you whole. I parked on the street, my hands gripping the steering

His hand was still on my throat, a firm, possessive brand that stole my breath and made my head swim. His body was a hard, unyielding wall of muscle pinning me against the door, and I could feel his cock, thick and hard and insistent, pressing against my own through the thin fabric of our jeans. The scent of him was overwhelming, a heady mix of clean soap, leather, and raw, male arousal that made my own cock throb with a desperate, needy pulse. This was really happening. This was insane. “You’re a mess,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive rumble against my skin. His lips were so close to my ear, I could feel the vibration of his words. “A desperate, horny little mess. You wanted my attention? You have it. All of it.” He ground his hips against mine, a slow, filthy grind that sent a jolt of pure, undiluted pleasure straight to my balls. I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped my lips, a low, broken sound of pure, unadulterated need. It was pathetic. It was honest. “Yeah, you like