Mag-log inSkylar’s POV~ The movie started, the opening credits rolling, but neither of us looked at the screen. "I'm keeping you safe," he growled, his hand finally moving from the back of the couch to my shoulder. He didn't squeeze. He just rested it there, his thumb tracing the bare skin of my arm where the tank top slipped. "Whether you like it or not." "I like it," I breathed, shifting my weight so my hip pressed harder against him. "I like feeling your... protection." Damian let out a harsh breath through his nose. He reached for the remote with his free hand, turning the volume up too loud, probably to drown out the sound of his own heartbeat, or mine. "Watch the movie, Skylar," he ordered, his fingers tightening on my shoulder. "Stop... looking at me like that." "Like what?" "Like you want me to forget I'm your step-father." I bit my lip, my eyes dropping to his mouth. Four years. Four years of this.* I remembered the first time he’d looked at me like this.
Skylar’s POV~ The rain had been falling all morning in a gray drizzle that made the massive windows of the Blackwood estate look like fish tanks. I sat at the kitchen island, pushing a piece of toast around my plate. I wasn’t in school today. Damian, my stepdad had made a phone call to the dean an hour ago, his voice was all low, authoritative rumbles and just like that, my classes were cancelled. “She’s not feeling the weather, Harold. Keep her spot. Yes. Thank you.” That was it. I was his to deal with. It was the fourth year since Mom had packed a single suitcase and fled to God-knows-where. A "sudden trip," she’d called it. A "break for her mental health." She never came back. She sent postcards from Switzerland, then France, then somewhere in the Caribbean, but she never stepped foot in this house again. And for four years, it had just been me and Damian. I looked up as he walked into the room. He was wearing a charcoal wool sweater today, the sleeves were
Hugh’s POV~ "Yeah, Dad," Cole smirked, leaning down to capture Elara’s lips in a bruising kiss, his hand sliding down to her breast, pinching the nipple through the torn fabric of her dress. "We're going to take it all." I started to move again, fucking her ass with deep, slow strokes, while Cole kissed her, while he touched her, while he claimed the parts of her I wasn't using. "Mine," I hissed, my hand tightening in her hair. "Mine," Cole groaned against her lips. "Yours," she sobbed, arching between us, taking us both, surrendering to the dark, twisted love of the two men who owned her. "That's it," I growled, my thrusts becoming faster, harder, the pleasure building to a breaking point. "Take us, Elara. Take your Daddy and your Brother. Fill you up. Stretch you out. Make you ours." "Yes!" she screamed, her body shattering between us. "Yours! I'm yours!" "As you wish," I groaned, my hips snapping forward one last time, my release pumping deep into her ass, while C
Hugh’s POV~ "Look at that," I groaned, using the fingers of my left hand to spread her cheek wide, watching my own spit glisten on her skin. "Daddy's wetting you up, little bird. Getting you ready for a cock that's too big for you." I pressed two fingers against that tight hole. The resistance was fierce. "Push out for me, Elara," I commanded, my voice dropping to a silken, deadly whisper. "Or I'll make it hurt." I pushed. The muscles in her ass gave way, and I sank my fingers into the scorching, tight heat of her ass. "Fuck,*" she screamed, her back arching, her hands clawing at the sheets. "Shut up," I growled, working my fingers in a circle, forcing the muscle to relax, to yield to me. "Take it. Take Daddy's fingers up your ass like a good little slut." I added a third finger, the stretch burning, the sound of my spit and her slickness filling the room with a lewd, squelching noise that made my cock throb painfully in my trousers. "You're so tight," I groaned,
Hugh’s POV~ I had her pinned against the mattress, my weight pressing her deep into the silk, the four-poster bed creaking under us. Her chest was heaving, those full, perfect tits we’re straining against the torn fabric of her dress, rising and falling like she’d just run a mile. "You said you hated me," I whispered, my voice was a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated in the heavy air between us. "But your hips... your hips are grinding up against me like a bitch in heat, Elara." I saw shame flash in her eyes, the dark flush creeping up her neck, staining her cheeks. "Daddy, please," she sobbed, her hands coming up to push at my chest again. I caught her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head with a grip that brooked no argument. Then, I brought my other hand up. I didn't grab her neck to hurt her. Not yet. I placed my palm flat against her throat, feeling the frantic pulse of her carotid artery hammering against my skin. "You feel that?" I asked, my th
Hugh’s POV~ I followed her up the stairs, my loafers were silent on the plush carpet, but my heart heavily thudding in my chest like a drum. I let her think she had a head start. I heard her door click shut, the lock engaging with a flimsy snick. It was almost cute. A mouse trying to lock out the wolf. I stood outside her door for a long moment, adjusting the cufflinks at my wrists. The gold doorknob was cool against my skin. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the master key. Click. The bolt slid back with a heavy thud. Then I pushed the door open. She was standing by the window, her back to me, still in that red dress. I knew she had changed out of it. I didn’t want to think about it that Cole had gotten to touch her first before me. She spun around, her eyes were wide, reflecting the silver light. "Hugh… Daddy, what are you doing?" she breathed, backing up until the backs of her thighs hit the edge of the four-poster bed. "I said I wanted to be alone." "I
Elena’s POV~The next morning, I moved like a criminal.It was 6:45 AM. The house was dead silent, but I knew better. I needed to leave the house for school before daddy woke up. I had been trying so hard to avoid him. I shoved my feet into my sneakers, grabbed my bag, and crept down the hall. My
Elena’s POV~The pink box was heavy. I was carrying it down the hallway. Toward his room. Like he told me to. Because he TOLD me to. And I did it. Like a good girl. Like an idiot.My arms were shaking. Not from the weight of the box but from the fact that I could hear him behind me. His bare feet o
Elena’s POV~I stopped breathing. My hand was still buried inside me, slick and aching, trapped between my legs and his iron grip. I couldn't pull it out. I didn't want to.He pulled slowly. Agonizingly slowly..My juices made a wet, sucking noise as he dragged my fingers out of my pussy.He held m
To my filthy girlies… this isn’t a love story. It’s a confession. Every story in this book is about women who were ‘good girls’ until they met a man who didn’t want good. He wanted wrecked. If you like it slow, go read a romance book. If you like it raw, if you like the sound of a spank echoing of







