บททั้งหมดของ All… For My Daddies! : บทที่ 221 - บทที่ 230

Fiona. That night, the convent was wrapped in its usual hush—only the old pipes creaking and the wind rattling the stained-glass windows. My cell felt smaller than ever.
 The sheets were twisted around my legs like restraints, and every time I closed my eyes I saw Father Dean’s face inches from mine, felt the phantom weight of his thumb pressing my lip, heard that low, filthy promise:
 Eight o’clock.. Habit. Nothing underneath. The clock on my nightstand crawled toward 7:45.
 Fifteen minutes.
 Fifteen minutes until I either damned myself forever or chickened out and spent the rest of my life wondering. I sat up, heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat.
 My palms were slick with sweat.
 I couldn’t do it.
 I couldn’t not do it.
 The ache between my legs had turned vicious—sharp, constant pulses that made me squeeze my thighs together just to keep from whimpering out loud. Then—footsteps in the corridor.
Soft, hurried.
 I flew out of bed, still in my thin cott

Fiona. I gasped for air, face a mess of tears, spit, and cum, but Dean wasn’t done—he yanked me up by the hair, spun me, and shoved me face-down over his lap, ass high in the air, knees barely touching the floor.
 My mouth hovered inches from his cock, still glistening from Elias’s release, thick and demanding. “My turn,” he snarled, fist tightening in my hair as he guided me down.
 I opened wide, lips stretching around the swollen head, tasting the mix of salt and sin as he pushed deep in one smooth thrust. Behind me, Elias dropped to his knees without a word, hands spreading my cheeks wide, breath hot against my soaked skin.
 His tongue dove straight into my pussy, lapping rough and hungry, nose buried in my folds as he devoured me like a starving man.
 Two fingers plunged into my cunt alongside his tongue, curling hard, pumping fast, the wet sounds obscene and echoing. “Fuck—Elias—” I cried around Dean’s cock, the vibration making him groan and thrust deeper, hitting the b

Fiona. They weren’t going to give me a single second to breathe, to think, to come back to myself. The moment my body stopped shaking from the last orgasm, the moment my lungs tried to drag in one desperate gulp of air, they moved like predators who had planned every beat of this hunt. Elias released my thighs only long enough to stand, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes black with hunger. Dean stepped forward at the same instant, cock jutting angry and slick, veins pulsing like they had a heartbeat of their own. They swapped places without a word, as if they’d choreographed this in some dark corner of their minds long before I ever walked through the door. Dean loomed over my head now, hair hanging loose from its usual severe style, a few strands sticking to his sweat-damp forehead. He fisted my hair hard, yanking my neck further back over the table’s edge until my throat was a straight, open channel for whatever he wanted to give me. At the same time, Elia

Fiona. I felt Elias’s hands tighten around my waist like iron bands, pulling me harder against his sweat-slick chest until not even a breath could slip between us. His groans turned feral, deep rumbles that vibrated through my spine while his hips snapped upward with brutal speed, slamming his thick cock into my dripping pussy again and again. Each thrust lifted my knees off the table, my body jolting forward, tits dragging across the wood, nipples scraping raw. His grip on my hips was punishing, fingers digging crescents into my flesh, holding me exactly where he wanted so I couldn’t escape the relentless pounding. “Fuck… fuck… Jesus…” Elias roared into my shoulder, teeth sinking into my skin as he drove in one final, savage thrust. Heat exploded inside me—his cum flooding my cunt in thick, pulsing waves, so much it leaked out around his shaft, running down my thighs in warm rivulets. He stayed buried deep, grinding slow, milking every last drop while his chest heaved ag

Hailey. I’ve been craving my sister’s husband since the day she brought him home.
 The second Nathan stepped through the door—tall, broad-shouldered, that lazy half-smile and those green eyes that looked straight through clothes—I felt it.
 A hard, sudden pulse between my legs, like my pussy recognized him before my brain did.
 It clenched so violently I had to cross my legs right there on the couch, pretending I was just getting comfortable while Emily introduced us.
 I swear he felt it too—the way his gaze lingered a fraction too long, the way his voice dropped when he said my name. For a year that craving has only grown teeth.
Every family dinner, every holiday, every accidental brush of his arm against mine in the hallway.
 My nipples harden the moment he walks into a room.
 My panties are soaked before he even speaks.
I’ve spent nights riding the thickest dildo I own, eyes squeezed shut, whispering his name while imagining it’s his cock stretching me, ruining me, filling