Todos los capítulos de All Yours, Daddy: Short Steamy Stories: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

I went back the next night. And the night after that. And the one after that. By the end of the week I wasn’t even pretending anymore. I’d text Jake some excuse—girls’ night, overtime, period cramps, then drive straight to his father’s house with nothing under my dress. Richard never asked if I was sure. He just opened the door, looked me up and down, and told me where he wanted me. Tonight was different. Jake was out of town for a work thing until Sunday. Richard told me to pack a bag. I did so. I walked into that house Friday evening knowing I wasn’t leaving until Monday morning, knowing I was going to spend the entire weekend getting used like the secret little whore I’d become. He didn’t even let me put the bag down. The second the door shut he had me bent over the arm of the living-room couch, dress shoved up, panties ripped to the side. He spat on his cock and shoved in dry enough that it burned in the best way. No warm-up. Just the full thick length of him punching th

Five days had passed since Marcus pressed the sleek black keycard into her palm, and Elena still felt the weight of it every time she walked into Hale Tech. It sat in the inner pocket of her bag like a secret she wasn’t supposed to carry. She never touched it at her desk. She only checked that it was still there when she was alone in the elevator or the bathroom, fingers brushing the plastic edges as if to confirm the night on his desk hadn’t been a fever dream. He had kept things carefully professional since then. Short emails. Brisk nods in the hallway. Nothing that would raise eyebrows. During the Tuesday all-hands he sat at the head of the long conference table and barely looked at her, but once—just once—his gaze had dropped to the open collar of her blouse and lingered a beat too long. Elena had pressed her thighs together under the table and spent the rest of the meeting trying not to shift in her seat. By Thursday the waiting had started to fray her. She stayed late on p

The message came at 8:03 p.m. on a Tuesday, right as Elena was packing up to leave. *Stay.* That was all. No time. No explanation. Just the single word on the black phone’s screen. She sat back down at her desk and opened a random spreadsheet so the remaining stragglers would assume she was still working. Twenty minutes later the floor was empty. The cleaning crew hadn’t started their rounds yet. Elena closed her laptop, slipped the phone into her bag, and walked the long way around to the restricted elevators so no one lingering near the main bank would see her. The keycard worked. The car rose in silence. When the doors opened, the executive hallway was dark except for the light under Marcus’s door. She stepped inside and locked it without being told. He was already behind the desk, jacket off, tie loosened, scrolling through something on his monitor. He looked up when the deadbolt clicked, and the expression that crossed his face was pure, unfiltered want. “Come here.

The next message didn’t come for nine days. Elena counted them without meaning to. Nine mornings of walking into Hale Tech and forcing her eyes to stay on her screen whenever Marcus passed the open-plan area. Nine afternoons of short, professional emails that never once slipped. Nine evenings of checking the black phone in the bathroom stall or the parking garage and finding nothing. By the fifth day the silence had started to feel deliberate. By the eighth she had begun to wonder if the hotel room had been a line he already regretted crossing. On the ninth evening she stayed late again, the way she always did when the waiting grew sharp. The floor emptied around her. She was shutting down her laptop when the phone finally vibrated. *Calder. 517. Key at the desk under Kane. Separate. Thirty minutes.* Elena deleted the message, packed her bag with careful hands, and left through the main lobby like any other employee working late. She took the long route, doubling back once,