Todos os capítulos de CUM-STURBATION: 20 DADDIES—FORBIDDEN TO THE LAST DROP : Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

Vaughan stood in the doorway, his face pale. He looked at me like I was a ghost. His hand was still on the door handle, his knuckles white. "Angel, what are you doing?" he asked. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble. "What's the meaning of this?" I didn't move. I kept my face blank, my back straight. I held my purse like a shield. "I don't understand you, Mr. Vaughan. I’m here for my session. And I seriously don't understand what you mean by 'What are you doing?' Am I not in the right location?" "What did you do?" he hissed, stepping closer. "What did you do, Angel?" "What do you mean, what did I do?" I tilted my head, acting innocent. "I booked a three-day session with you. The payment went through this morning. Check your accounts. I could be wrong." Vaughan’s jaw tightened. He pulled out his phone, his thumbs flying across the screen. I watched his eyes widen as he saw the balance. It was a massive amount of money. Yes… it's crazy how I paid 80 thousand dollars for this. I

The hallway was silent, but the air still felt heavy from the studio session. I followed the scent of his cologne and that led straight to his master bedroom. He had sneaked off his studio to this place? I didn't knock. I pushed the door open and stepped into the dim light of his private space. The sound of the shower was a steady roar coming from the bathroom. On the floor, his clothes were a messy pile—the shirt, the pants, all discarded in a rush. I smiled, the fabric of my own open shirt fluttering against my bare skin. I walked to the bathroom door. It was slightly ajar. Steam was already curling into the air, carrying the smell of soap. I stepped inside, my feet silent on the cold tile. Vaughan was behind the glass, his side to me, partially backing me. The water was running cold; I could tell by the way his skin was pebbled and the way he was shivering slightly, but the heat between his legs was clearly burning him alive. His head was bowed against the tile, and his hand w

The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the house in that heavy, expensive silence that only the wealthy can afford. We were gathered in the dining room, the chandelier overhead casting a gold glow on the porcelain plates. It was the picture of a perfect family dinner. My mother sat at one end, looking radiant and refreshed, as if she hadn’t probably spent the afternoon being ruined by her husband's nephew. Vaughan sat at the head, his face a mask of ice. though I could see the slight tremor in his hand as he reached for his wine glass. The smell of roasted chicken and rosemary filled the air, but I couldn't taste a thing. All I could taste was him. "So, Angel," my mother started, her voice bright and melodic as she cut into her meat. "How did your day go? You were so mysterious about this appointment this morning. Did everything go well?" I took a slow, sip of my water, watching Vaughan over the rim of my glass. He was staring straight ahead, his jaw so tight I thought it m

"Angel..." he choked out. "How did you know that?"I stepped closer, my chest nearly touching his. "Because I do. You think you’re the only one in this house who knows how to record a secret? You think you're the only one who can watch from the shadows?"I knew his habits. I remembered how the last few days before I left, I missed all my panties. I had to buy a new dozen for school while shopping.He took every one I removed for those two days!I knew he was taking my things then, but I also knew it may have been a way he wanted to keep me with him even if I left, so I didn't say a word. So, when I came back, I set a trap. I left my lace panties right where he could find them. And he did. He took them every single time.A few nights ago, I had followed him. I watched through the crack of the office door. I saw him open that safe. I saw him pull out my underwear and press them to his face, breathing in my scent like it was air and he was drowning. I saw him stroke his massive cock unti

We stepped into the studio, the air still humming from the session in the study. The bright white lights were already on, blinding and hot. Vaughan didn't go for the bed first. He went for the tripod."Pictures first, Ms. Angel," he said. His voice was back to that professional, cold tone, but his eyes were dark with hunger. "I need to document this. All of it."He began to bark orders. He didn't ask; he commanded. He told me to strike poses that were vulgar and raw. He made me spread myself for the lens, showing every inch of my heat under the harsh glare. He made me use my own fingers to open my folds, captured in high-definition. I was dripping."Wider," he growled. "I want the camera to see exactly how wet you are for me."Vaughan stepped out of his own clothes. I watched him as he moved naked, and he set up three cameras on different tripods. One was directly in front of the bed, one was at the side, and one was low, aimed right at the center. Across the room, a massive flat scre