Chapter 3: The Day We Stopped Pretending

Sunlight poured through the loft window, warm across my bare thighs. I woke sore in the sweetest way—deep, satisfied ache between my legs from the way Daddy had stretched and filled me last night in the hot tub. My pussy still felt the ghost of him, slick and tender, every shift of my hips reminding me how completely I’d given in. I stretched, smiling into the pillow, the sheets carrying the faint scent of chlorine and his skin. No more wondering if this was wrong. Last night I crossed the line and I never want to go back.

I slipped out of bed naked and padded to the chair where his oversized flannel shirt lay crumpled from yesterday. I pulled it on, the soft fabric swallowing me, hem brushing mid-thigh, nothing underneath. The collar smelled like him—woodsmoke and clean sweat. My nipples tightened against the worn cotton as I crept downstairs.

Mark stood at the stove, shirtless, flipping eggs. Morning light carved every ridge of his back and shoulders, the same strong arms that had held me while I rode him. He turned at my footsteps, eyes darkening instantly when he saw me in his shirt. No words. He crossed the kitchen in two strides, cupped my face, and kissed me like he’d been starving. Deep, hungry, tongue sliding against mine, claiming. I moaned into his mouth, pressing up on tiptoes, feeling his bare chest hot through the flannel.

“Last night was just the beginning, babygirl,” he growled against my lips, voice rough with sleep and want. His hand slid under the shirt, fingers tracing my bare slit, already wet again. I rocked into his touch, whimpering.

Mom shuffled down the stairs then, hungover, robe hanging open, hair wild. She kissed us both on the cheek without really looking, muttering about her back and needing more wine. “I’m driving into town for groceries and a few bottles,” she announced, grabbing her keys. “You two behave. I’ll be gone all day.” The door slammed. Gravel crunched. Her car disappeared down the dirt road.

The second the sound faded, Mark spun me around, lifted me onto the cold granite counter, and shoved the flannel up to my waist. “Today you’re mine all day.” Two thick fingers plunged inside me without warning, curling hard against that spot that made stars burst behind my eyes. His thumb circled my clit in tight, relentless strokes. I came in under a minute—sharp, sudden, thighs clamping around his wrist, a broken cry tearing from my throat while his mouth swallowed the sound. Juice coated his hand. He licked it clean, eyes locked on mine. “First of many, Riley.”