All Chapters of Dear Ex, Your Father Fxxked Me Better: Filthy Shorts: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

37 Chapters

THE DIVORCE PAPERS I

STORY FOUR: THE DIVORCE PAPERS PART ONE CONTENT WARNING: BLINDFOLD SEX The candlelight flickered across the crisp white tablecloth of Le Bernardin, casting soft golden shadows over the delicate porcelain and crystal stemware. It was supposed to be a celebration—my 26th birthday. I had dressed for the occasion in a sleek black silk slip dress that skimmed my curves, my dark auburn hair falling in loose waves down my back, red lips painted with the confidence I no longer felt. Marcus Kavanagh sat across from me, his jaw tight, eyes cold. He didn’t touch the wine. He didn’t smile. “I’m done, Daphne,” he said flatly, cutting through the soft murmur of the restaurant sharply. “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore.” I froze, fork halfway to my mouth. The words hung between us, heavy and unreal. “What?” My voice came out small and cracked. Marcus leaned back in his chair, expensive watch glinting under the lights. “You heard me. Four years of this… whatever the fuck t

THE DIVORCE PAPERS II

PART TWO The parking lot behind the club was dimly lit, the bass from inside muted to a distant throb. My heels clicked sharply against the asphalt as I approached the sleek black SUV parked in the far corner. My heart hammered in my chest, a volatile cocktail of rage at Marcus, shame at my own wetness, and something darker, something that made my thighs clench with every step. Kenzo was already waiting, leaning against the driver’s side with his arms crossed over his broad, powerfully muscled chest, suit jacket unbuttoned. The moment he saw me, his intense steel-gray eyes raked over my body like he owned it. At forty-eight, he looked devastatingly handsome—thick blonde hair perfectly styled, a chiseled, masculine jawline, high cheekbones, and an aura of raw, magnetic power that made him irresistibly attractive. Without a word, he opened the passenger door and gestured inside. “Get in.” I slid into the plush leather seat, the short crimson dress riding up so high my bare ass cheek

THE DIVORCE PAPERS III

PART THREE: THE MORNING AFTER The next morning, sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the Kavanagh estate. I stirred in the massive bed, my body deliciously sore in all the right places, my thighs aching, pussy still tender and throbbing from the relentless pounding Kenzo had given me through the night. I slipped on his oversized white dress shirt, the hem barely skimming the tops of my thighs, the fabric carrying his clean, masculine scent mixed with the faint musk of sex. No panties. I liked the way the cool air teased my swollen folds as I moved. I padded downstairs quietly, bare feet silent on the stairs, heading straight for the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. Kenzo was in the master bathroom, the distant sound of the shower running faintly audible. Marcus was already in the kitchen, his back turned to me. He stood at the counter in nothing but gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, one hand massaging the stiff muscles of his neck while he downed a glass of hon

PASSION IN THE PRISON I

STORY FIVE: PASSION IN THE PRISON PART ONE: PASSION IN HIS OFFICE The sound of skin slapping skin and high-pitched moans hit me the second I pushed open the apartment door. There he was—my boyfriend of two years—bent over the blonde girl from his office, cock buried deep inside her from behind while the woman gripped the back of the couch and screamed his name like she was getting paid for it. His pale ass flexed with every thrust, balls swinging heavily as he pounded into the stranger. Rage exploded in my chest like gasoline on fire. “You fucking piece of shit!” I screamed. My boyfriend’s head snapped up, eyes wide with panic. His dick slipped out of the blonde with a wet pop, still rock-hard and glistening with her juices, bouncing as he stumbled backward. “Mila—baby, wait—!” But I was already moving. Hot-blooded fury propelled me forward. I grabbed the nearest thing—a heavy glass vase—and hurled it at him. He dodged, dick flopping wildly side to side as he ran around the li

PASSION IN THE PRISON II

PART TWO: PASSION ON HIS COUCH CONTENT WARNING: HANDCUFF DURING SEX, HUMILIATION KINK I knew two things the moment I left the Warden’s office that night: either Ryker Crowe would call me back within 24 hours, or he would pretend none of it had ever happened. Twenty-four hours came and went in silence. No summons. No message. Nothing. I lay on my thin bunk staring at the ceiling, telling myself it was better this way. He was the Warden. I was just another inmate serving time for a crime I didn’t commit. What happened in that office was a one-time lapse in judgment. A filthy, delicious mistake. But at 1:17 a.m. the following night, the cell door buzzed open again. A female officer stood in the doorway, flashlight beam cutting through the dark. “Inmate 4782. Warden wants you. Now.” Anxiety clawed up my throat like barbed wire. My heart slammed against my ribs as I stood, wrists already cuffed in front of me by the officer. The walk through the silent corridors felt endless. Every s

PASSION IN THE PRISON III

PART THREE: PASSION IN THE PRISON CELL Five days had crawled by since that moonlit night in the Warden’s office. Five long days of stolen glances during headcount, of my body aching with unmet need every time I remembered the thick stretch of Ryker’s pierced cock and the filthy way he’d used me. I wanted more. Craved it like air. Every night I touched myself quietly under the thin blanket, biting my lip raw so my bunkmate wouldn’t hear, but my fingers were nowhere near enough. That evening, after the group wash-up, the women had shuffled back to their cells, orange uniforms damp and clinging. Lights-out came and went. I lay on the lower bunk, staring at the metal frame above me, heart restless. Suddenly, the cell door buzzed. A voice called my bunkmate’s name. The woman grumbled, got up, and left. She didn’t return. I closed my eyes again, assuming the guard had come for me too. Then the heavy cell door opened once more. Strong, expensive cologne hit me first—dark, woody, unmis

PASSION IN THE PRISON IV

PART FOUR: PASSION IN THE PRISON INFIRMARY Another five days dragged past in a haze of secret glances and aching need. My body still remembered every thick inch of Ryker from our risky night in the cell. I craved him constantly, my pussy wet at the mere thought of his pierced cock stretching me open. That morning I was called for the routine general medical test in the prison infirmary. The sterile room smelled of antiseptic and old leather. A bored doctor ran the usual checks—blood pressure, temperature, basic questions—while a nurse hovered nearby. I sat on the edge of the examination bed in my orange uniform, legs dangling. Just as the doctor finished scribbling notes and told me I could go, the door swung open. A stern male guard stepped in. “Everyone out. Infirmary is closing for maintenance. Now.” The doctor and nurse exchanged confused looks but obeyed quickly, gathering their things and filing out. I stood to follow. “Not you,” the guard said flatly, pointing at me. “Sta

HIS FATHER’S PREY I

STORY SIX: HIS FATHER’S PREYCONTENT WARNING: PRIMAL PLAY (KIDNAPPER AND CAPTIVE)PART ONEThe dim light of my therapist’s office felt heavier than usual that afternoon. I sat across from Dr. Raphael Voss, my hands clenched in my lap as tears streamed down my face. Five years of marriage, and three cold suggestions from my husband that I “just get rid of it” each time I’d accidentally gotten pregnant again. And now the messages on his phone—filthy, explicit texts to my own sister. Including proof that they had two kids together after I had done three abortions per his demands.I had run straight to the only person I trusted with my pain: my husband’s father.Raphael Voss was fifty-three, but he looked like sin carved into flesh—unbelievably tall, broad-shouldered, with silver threading through thick, ink-black hair, a jaw sharp enough to cut glass, and piercing eyes the color of a midnight storm. He was devastatingly handsome, possessing a raw, hyper-masculine gravity that made it imp

HIS FATHER’S PREY II

PART TWOThe scream died in my throat as Raphael lunged.He was on me before I could scramble away, one massive hand clamping over my mouth while the other fisted my hair, yanking my head back hard enough to expose the frantic flutter of my pulse at my throat. The knife clattered to the floor beside us—he didn’t need it now. Not for this.“Shhh, little prey,” he growled against my ear, his voice thick with dark, rough hunger. “You ran so beautifully. Got my cock so fucking hard watching that tight ass bounce while you tried to escape me.”I thrashed wildly, my smaller body bucking against his solid, steel-hard frame. My nails raked down his forearms, drawing thin red lines, but he only laughed low and dirty, grinding his massive, pulsing erection against the curve of my ass through our clothes. I could feel how unbelievably thick he was—long, heavy, already leaking pre-cum that soaked through the front of his black pants.He spun me around and slammed me back against the wall, pinning

HIS FATHER’S PREY III

PART THREEMy ripped blouse hung open like a torn flag of surrender, my full, heavy breasts bouncing freely with every desperate stride as I bolted from the bedroom.Nipples tight and aching from the cool night air and the lingering sting of Raphael’s teeth, I ran like my life depended on it. My bare feet slapped against cold floorboards, cum still leaking down my inner thighs in thick, obscene trails.“Ten… Nine… Eight… Seven…”His voice echoed behind me, like an impossibly rich, velvet-rough purr, counting down with patience. I didn’t wait for six. I exploded through the back door of the abandoned house, bursting into the pitch-black night.Only dense woods and forest surrounded us. Tall trees loomed like silent sentinels under a sliver of moon, the ground uneven and littered with roots and fallen leaves. My heart hammered so hard I could feel it in my throat, in my clit, in the soaked, swollen folds of my pussy that still fluttered from the brutal fucking he’d just given me.I ran

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