What Happens At The End Of 'Call Him Daddy'?

"Does my son f*ck you this good? No? Then take this d*ck like the good girl you are." My father-in-law had me bent over the kitchen counter, hand clamped over my mouth to muffle my moans, while his son—my husband—called my name from upstairs... *** You think you know what you're getting into? You don't have a f*cking clue. This isn't some tasteful romance where the camera pans away. This is the raw, uncut, NC-17 version of your filthiest 3 AM fantasies—the ones you'd never admit to anyone, not even yourself. We're talking D*ddies who don't ask permission because you already gave it with those desperate eyes. Men old enough to be completely off-limits but experienced enough to make you forget your own name. They'll bend you over their desk, f*ck you silent at family dinner, and make you call them D*ddy while reminding you how young, and tight you are. Trigger warnings? Everything here is designed to trigger you. Age gaps that'll get you disowned. Rough hands leaving fingerprint bruises on your hips. Choking that blurs your vision while he calls you his perfect little slut. Public s*x in places you'll never see the same way. Getting passed around because one man isn't enough. These men don't make love—they f*ck, claim, own. They'll use every hole like it belongs to them because it does. Degrade and worship you in the same breath. Call you their dirty girl while balls deep making you scream. Now be a good girl, turn the f*cking page, and let Daddy show you what you've been missing.

“I don’t know how,” I whispered. “Can you show me? Please, daddy.” He should have said no. Instead, he said, “Lie back and open those pretty legs. Let daddy take care of that for you.” When I shattered all over his fingers he looked at me like I was the most devastating thing he’d ever seen and said, “That’s my sweet girl.” Three days later he put me on a plane to London and didn’t look back. ----- She has spent three years across an ocean trying to unlearn her Stepfather; his voice, his hands, the way he said her name like it cost him something. She almost managed it. Then he called to say he was getting married again and he needed her home. Now she’s back in Boston, sleeping under his roof, watching him plan a future with someone else, and pretending she doesn’t still want him the way she did at nineteen. He is doing the same, pretending. Controlling. Building walls and calling it protection. But three years haven’t changed what’s between them. If anything, the distance made it worse. He sent her away once to save her from him. This time, she isn’t leaving. Some things are wrong in every way that matters, and still impossible to stop. WARNING: This book contains explicit erotic content and is meant for mature audiences. It explores desire, power, and complicated relationships without holding back. Please proceed only if you’re comfortable with that.

“Daddy, please don't stop..." I begged, aching for one more thick finger stretching my dripping pussy. ** There are two mistakes a girl should never make. One: comparing your daddy’s best friend’s cock to your boyfriend’s. Two: actually fucking him. I did something worse. Daddy told me to email my résumé to his best friend because I’d been jobless for months. Drunk and reckless at 2 a.m., I sent Troy Reynolds something else instead—high-definition nudes of me spreading my soaked pussy, my tits squeezed together, tongue out, and begging for his cum. I knew it was wrong. I’d wanted him since I was seventeen. But the universe handed me the match… and Troy lit the fire. He never forgets. Now he wants me. He wants me dripping with his cum, claimed, ruined, and marked with his name on every inch of my skin. He wants me crawling to him on my knees. He fucked me. Then he hired me—not as his intern, but as his personal slut. His eager whore. His favorite fucktoy and willing little plaything. And every time he buries himself deep inside me, he makes me moan the one word that seals my fate. “Daddy.” This is a box—a wicked little treasure chest overflowing with daddy kinks. K-I-N-K-S that twist and tease in the darkest corners of desire. Inside, you’ll find forbidden daddy taboo stories dripping with raw power and aching submission, where boundaries dissolve and hungry hands claim what’s theirs. This book is not suitable for all readers. It contains highly explicit scenes—100% raw sin and sex with zero plot to hide behind. Keep your tissues close… you’re going to need them. .

Twenty-year old Harper hasn't had much luck in life so far. Her mother is a drunk and a junkie and a serial dater, her father left them when she was five years old. Harper has never had a father figure, she only has her mother's boyfriends to go by. When her relationship with Dylan comes to an end, she is left devastated, lonely and filled with a longing to have someone who can make her feel whole, loved and protected. Dylan's father, Levi has been divorced for two years, he's hurting badly and wants a woman in his bed to take away the pain and loneliness. Harper is always at his house, the kid that was dating his only son and he can't help looking at her in a way he shouldn't. He knows she is way too young for him, he's thirty-seven and knows better but he can't resist her infectious smile, the way she laughs not to mention the way she looks. Can there be happiness between two people who are nineteen years apart, what will people think, what will his only son think? He must stay away from her at all costs, it could spell trouble for him. Only, Harper can't stay away from Levi he's everything she has dreamt off. He's powerful, strong and protective. He calls her Sunflower and takes care of her. He cooks for her, drives her to college and even buys her clothes. He's gorgeous, handsome, rugged and rides a motorbike. He's dangerous in so many ways but the hand of temptation is too much to resist.

Keep your legs open, baby. That’s it… eyes on me.” One had his hand around my throat. Another had his mouth between my thighs. The third… God help me, he was the one who whispered the filth that made me forget my name. Three of them. All at once. Tearing me apart like I belonged to them. And the truth is—I did. Because I gave them my body the night I lost everything else. The night I got fired. The night my boyfriend left me for my best friend. The night I nearly ended it all. But I’d been kind to a stranger once. Gave him my umbrella in the rain. Smiled at him even when my world was falling apart. That man? He found me drunk and desperate on the edge of ruin… and offered me something darker than a second chance. To be theirs. All three of theirs. Not a girlfriend. Not a wife. A plaything. A prize. A pet. Now I wake up in silk sheets. I don’t work. I don’t pay bills. I only exist to please them. And Daddy doesn’t like when I cry. He likes when I beg.

"I asked you a question, Olivia," he murmured. "Are you going to see him?" "No," I choked out, the word broken and final. "No, Daddy. I’ll stay. I’ll stay here with you. Just please... please..." "Good girl," he growled, the praise vibrating against my skin. "You finally learned how to beg properly." ———— Chandler Sterling came back bound by a promise—nothing more. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Olivia Perez was never supposed to matter. She was off-limits, untouchable, too young—the daughter of the one man he could never betray. Once, she was just a little girl in the background. Now, she’s grown. Defiant. Reckless in a way that gets under his skin and refuses to leave. And the more he watches her, the more something inside him starts to unravel. It begins with control—stepping in, setting limits, reminding her who she belongs to. But it doesn’t stop there. Because his anger lingers too long when she’s with her boyfriend. The thoughts he’s having were never supposed to exist. On the other hand, Olivia knows something has changed. Chandler isn’t the same man she once admired from a distance. He’s colder now. Harder. Watching her like she’s something he needs to keep in line… or something he’s trying not to take. And maybe she should be afraid of that. Of him. Of the way his control feels less like protection and more like possession. But fear isn’t what she feels. Because the line they’re standing on isn’t just dangerous— it’s already breaking.