All Chapters of Sins Of The Flesh: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Mia’s POV. A week had dragged by since Sarah’s promised return date. Her “couple of days” had stretched into seven more days of delays—more paperwork, flight rescheduling, something about final approvals. Each update from her had been a bittersweet relief, giving Jax and me more time to drown in each other. We’d grown reckless. The entire house reeked of sex. We barely bothered hiding the evidence anymore. Our clothes left scattered, sheets permanently stained, my body constantly marked and leaking him. This afternoon, the risk felt worth it. We were in the living room, the same couch where everything had started a month ago. I was bent over the armrest, completely naked, while Jax pounded into me from behind with brutal, unrelenting force. “Fuck... Jax... harder!” I screamed, not caring how loud I was. My tits bounced wildly with every savage thrust. His thick dick stretched my soaked pussy to its limit, the wet, filthy squelching of his previous loads being churned inside me echo

Chloe's POV. The rain fell in heavy sheets against the stained-glass windows of the old church, as if the sky itself were mourning. I stood beside the polished mahogany casket, my black dress clinging to my petite frame from the damp chill that had seeped through my coat. At twenty-one, I looked smaller than ever—fragile, lost, my wide green eyes rimmed red from days of silent crying. My father, Marcus, had been my whole world. Now he was gone, taken by a sudden heart attack that left me reeling in an empty house filled with echoes.The service ended in a blur of condolences. Old family friends patted my shoulder, murmuring platitudes. But one man lingered at the edge of the crowd, tall and imposing even in his tailored black suit. Damien Blackwood. My father’s best friend since college, the godfather I'd never officially had, the man who’d always called me “princess” with that deep, rumbling voice that made my stomach flutter even as a teenager.He approached me slowly, his sharp ja

Chloe's POV. The drive to the lawyer’s office felt like stepping back into reality after the warm cocoon of Damien’s penthouse. I sat in the passenger seat of his sleek black Mercedes, his oversized sweater still draped over me like a security blanket, the hem brushing my bare thighs. My black funeral dress from yesterday was folded neatly back in his penthouse, Damien had insisted I didn’t need to wear mourning clothes again today. His hand rested on my thigh the entire ride, his thumb stroking slow circles that kept me flushed and aware of every shift in my seat. I was still slick from the bath, from his fingers teasing me without letting me come. Every time I pressed my thighs together, he’d squeeze gently and murmur, “Patience, little one. Good girls wait for Daddy’s permission.” The law firm was stuffy and formal, all dark wood and hushed voices. Mr. Hargrove, Dad’s longtime attorney, greeted us with sympathetic nods. His eyes flicked between me and Damien with mild curiosit

Chloe's POV. I woke up the next morning wrapped in Damien’s arms again, but this time the penthouse felt different. It felt more permanent now. My clothes hung neatly in his closet. My favorite mug sat on the kitchen counter beside his. Mr. Whiskers had been tucked into the armchair in the corner of the bedroom like a silent witness to my surrender. The grief still ached in my chest, but it was softer now, buffered by the constant weight of Damien’s presence.“Daddy?” I whispered, testing the word in the quiet morning light. It felt natural, right, dangerous.He stirred behind me, his morning hardness pressing insistently against my bare ass. “Morning, princess,” he rumbled, his voice thick with sleep and hunger. His large hand slid up my stomach under the shirt I wore to cup one of my breasts, his thumb lazily circling my nipple until it tightened. “How’s my good little girl feeling today?”“Safe,” I admitted, arching into his touch. “But… needy again.”A low chuckle vibrated again

Chloe's POV. I lay there boneless in Damien’s arms, my body still trembling with aftershocks from the endless orgasms he’d pulled from me. The silk dress was long gone, tossed somewhere on the floor, and the cool air of the penthouse kissed my overheated skin. His cum from earlier had been washed away in the frenzy, but the faint sticky reminder of his earlier marking lingered in my mind. My pussy throbbed, swollen, slick, and utterly spent yet somehow still aching for more.“Daddy…” I whispered hoarsely, nuzzling my face into the crook of his neck. His chest was solid and warm beneath my cheek, his heartbeat steady and strong. One of his large hands stroked slow, soothing lines up and down my bare back, while the other cupped my ass possessively, a thick finger resting just at the crease where my thigh met my soaked center.“Shh, princess. Breathe for me,” he murmured, his voice deep and rumbling in the quiet room. He pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, then my temple, then lower