All Chapters of Dripping Wet for Only You, Daddy: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The three days between sessions nearly broke me.I obeyed Thane’s order. I didn’t touch myself. Not once. By Tuesday night I was aching so badly I could barely sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I felt the ghost of his cock stretching me open, heard the rough way he had called me filthy, tasted the salt of his skin on my tongue. I woke up wet, thighs sticky, clit throbbing against the sheets. I pressed my face into the pillow and whimpered, hips shifting restlessly, but I kept my hands away. The denial only made the longing sharper, meaner, more desperate.Wednesday morning I put on a soft skirt and nothing underneath, exactly as he had told me. The air against my bare cunt felt obscene. When I walked downstairs I could already feel slickness gathering between my thighs.Thane arrived at the usual time. Garrick had already left for the office. The house was quiet. Thane set his bag down, looked at me once, and said, “Gym. Now.”I followed him. The second the door closed he locke

He pulled out, turned the shower off, and guided me out of the glass enclosure on unsteady legs. He didn’t dry us. He walked me dripping wet into the connected bedroom, pushed me onto the large bed, and climbed over me while our skin was still slick.This time I was the aggressive one. I pulled him down, kissed him like I was drowning, and rolled us so I was on top. I reached between us, wrapped my fingers around his thick, wet cock, and sank down onto him in one smooth motion. The stretch forced another long moan out of me. I started riding him hard — bouncing, grinding, rolling my hips so the head of his cock dragged against the place that made my thighs shake.“Ohhh fuck… Daddy… you feel so good… I’ve needed this so much—”My hands braced on his chest. My wet hair clung to my shoulders and tits. Continuous desperate moans spilled out of me with every downward stroke. Thane’s hands gripped my ass, helping me slam harder onto him. The wet, filthy sound of my cunt taking his cock ov

“Say it.”I closed my eyes. The city lights blurred.“Daddy.”The word hung in the quiet office like a live wire.Richard’s breath left him in a slow, controlled exhale. His other hand slid down my spine, over the curve of my ass, and then under my skirt. He found the soaked lace of my panties and groaned under his breath.“Christ. You’re dripping. You’ve been sitting out there this wet for me while you ruined a multi-million-dollar deal?”“I’m sorry—”“Don’t.” His fingers pressed against me through the fabric, rubbing slow, deliberate circles. “You’re going to take your punishment. And you’re going to thank me for every second of it.”He hooked his fingers in the lace and dragged my panties down my thighs until they fell around my ankles. Cool air hit my exposed cunt. I was so wet it felt obscene.Richard’s palm stroked over my bare ass once, almost thoughtful. Then it came down hard.The sharp crack of skin on skin echoed through the office. I gasped, hands gripping the desk. Heat

I sank down onto him in one slow, continuous motion.The stretch forced a long, broken moan out of my throat. “Ahh—ffuuuck… Daddy…”Richard’s hands clamped on my hips, guiding me until every thick inch was buried inside me again. I could feel the wet heat of his earlier cum still inside, making everything slicker, filthier. My forehead dropped against his. Our mouths were so close that every shaky breath mixed.“Move,” he said, voice low and rough. “Ride it. Show me how badly you still need it.”I lifted my hips and dropped back down. The wet, heavy sound of my cunt taking his cock filled the quiet office. I did it again, harder. Then again. My hands braced on his shoulders as I started to bounce, rolling my hips at the bottom of every stroke so the head of his cock dragged against the spot that made my vision blur.“Ohhh—ohhh god—nnngh—”Moans spilled out of me without control. Soft at first, then louder, higher, broken by the force of each downward thrust. My blouse hung open. My

The villa was too small for how much I wanted to avoid him.White stone walls, open hallways, the constant sound of the sea below the cliffs. My mother had rented the entire place for the wedding weekend — six bedrooms, a wide terrace that looked over the water, and not nearly enough distance between any of us.I was given the room at the end of the hall. The room next to his.Nathaniel Hale. The groom’s older brother. Forty-six. Broad-shouldered, quiet, always watching. He had arrived two days before everyone else to help with arrangements, but I had seen the way his eyes followed me when I stepped out of the car in my linen dress. He didn’t smile. He just looked, slow and thorough, like he was already deciding something.I felt that look between my legs for the rest of the afternoon.By the time the welcome dinner ended, the villa was full of laughter and champagne. My mother glowed on the terrace, hanging on her almost-husband’s arm. Guests spilled between the living room and