SAVAGE ECSTACY I

ANGEL“You want this cock?”“Yes—feed it to my pussy.”“Say that again.”“Please, Daddy. Feed your cock to my hungry wet cunt!”I could feel him grinding against me through his pants. Hard. Hot. Thick. The ridge of him pressing against my bare, swollen folds and the rough drag of his pants fabric was making me lose my mind one slow grind at a time.“Patience, you’ll have all of my cock soon. Every inch.” Daddy said.He wasn’t giving it to me yet?A half-sob caught in my throat. “But I want your cock now,” I whined.He looked at me, his eyes devouring. “When you look like a meal, there’s still a lot of things I want to do.”His mouth wasted no time moving down. Over my ribs. Across the swell of my belly, he pressed kisses into the taut skin—open-mouthed. His lips were warm against the stretched skin, lingering over the places where our baby kicked hardest.He found the faint darker line that divided my stomach. And he traced it with his tongue, following the path from my navel dow

SAVAGE ECSTASY II

ANGEL “Day two.” “Ah! Daddy.” Out. In. Harder. The headboard cracked against the wall. “Day three!” He grunted. “Oh God—” I was fucking going to explode. Each thrust was a detonation—his cock hitting the deepest part of me, his hips slamming against mine, the force of it rocking my whole body up the mattress until my head was bumping the pillows. Out. In. Then he thrust so deep I felt him in my lungs. “And day four.” He bottomed out and stayed. Grinding. Circling his hips while buried to the root, pressing against something deep inside me that turned my vision into a white-hot scream. “Four days. You’re paying for all of them now.” “Daddy—” The word came out as a sob when he thrust deeper, and his response was immediate—his hips stuttering before finding their rhythm again, harder, sharper. “Say it again.” His teeth found my earlobe. “Don’t stop saying it.” “Daddy—Daddy—” Each repetition was rewarded with a thrust that made my spine arch and my vision blur. He was hitting

DADDY AND HIS ANGEL

ANGEL I woke to soreness. Everything stung. My thighs ached with a deep, satisfying burn. There were hickeys on my neck, my shoulders, and stubble marks on my breasts that I could feel every time I shifted against the sheets. I loved it. Every ache, every sting, every delicious reminder of what we’d done. I could still feel Vincent inside me—a phantom fullness, a pleasant emptiness that throbbed with the memory of being stretched, filled, claimed. My body was no longer just my own. It belonged to him now. Completely. Irrevocably. Morning light streamed through the curtains. Vincent was still sleeping beside me, one arm thrown possessively across my waist even in unconsciousness like he couldn’t bear to let me go, even in dreams. I turned my head to study his face. He looked younger in sleep. More peaceful. The constant tension he carried—the weight of his empire, the darkness that lurked behind his eyes—was smoothed away. In its place was something almost boyish. I reached

DADDY AND HIS ANGEL: MRS HALE

EPILOGUEANGELA year and four months later.Daddy tasted like cream and sin at seven in the morning.I kissed the head of his cock—one last, slow press of my lips—after he’d just emptied his balls into my mouth. His hand was still in my hair, his strong fingers loose now, the grip that had been guiding my head gone slack with the boneless aftermath.I swallowed. Licked my lips, and looked up at him from between his legs with what I knew was a combination of innocent eyes and swollen mouth.“Good morning, Daddy!”He stared down at me with that half-lidded look I’d become addicted to.“Get up here, Angel.”“No,” I smacked my lips, wiping them completely clean, “We have so much to do today Daddy,” I smiled.Here’s what he didn’t know. The blowjob wasn’t generosity—it was all a plan.Because I knew this man. I’d been married to him for over a year now—Mrs. Angel Hale, with his ring on my finger.His last name on every document and his cum still warm in my stomach—and I knew exactly what

THE SHAPE OF FOREVER

ANGEL Oops, once again I’d digress from the main topic. Now, without distraction, back to my family. “Who is happy to turn one!” I gathered Evren from his cradle. He blinked up at me with wide eyes framed by lashes so long they touched his cheeks—and then he smiled. I couldn’t help but smile back as his little face scrunched up into that gummy, drooly, smile that turned me into a puddle of useless maternal emotion every single time. I heard Vincent’s footsteps before I saw him. He was dressed in pants now, his chest still bare. He took Evren from my arms. I laughed when Evren immediately grabbed a fistful of chest hair and yanked. “See, payback for depriving him his mother,” I gloated. Vincent winced. “Good morning to you too. Bud,” Together we both readied the star of today’s show for his birthday. Daddy changed him—a process that involved Evren kicking both legs like a furious frog while Vincent wrestled him into the tiny suit. I did his hair—what little of it there

My Dearest Readers ❤️

To my lovely readers, I see your comments — thank you for sharing what you think. I love you all from the bottom of my dark, twisted, romance-obsessed heart. I know some of you are thinking ‘sequel, sequel, sequel’ I see you. I love you. But I need to be honest with you — I don't have plans to write one immediately or any time soon. This was always Angel's story. A story about a girl who was broken apart by one man and put back together by another. Her story ends where it should — in Daddy's arms, with his heartbeat under her ear, his ring on her finger and their son sleeping a few feet away. As for Daniel… I left that door open on purpose. Some of you are Team Vincent. You want that door between Angel and Daniel sealed shut. I respect that. Daddy earned his girl. He earned every inch of that ending. And some of you — you beautiful, crazy, morally complex readers — felt something when those grey eyes appeared. You read “Hello wife” and your heart did something it shouldn't hav