Daddy's Secret Sin

Chapter 7

No More Pretending

Victor’s penthouse was quiet in the way only money could buy — thick walls, soft lighting, and the distant glow of the city spread out beneath the floor-to-ceiling windows like a secret only the two of them were allowed to keep.

The moment the elevator doors closed behind Aria, he was on her.

There was no slow build this time. No careful words. Victor backed her against the wall of the entryway, one hand braced beside her head, the other gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks. His mouth found hers with open hunger, tongue sliding against hers like he had been starving for the taste of her all day.

Aria moaned into the kiss, fingers already working at the buttons of his shirt. She needed skin. She needed the solid heat of him against her. The sweater she wore was tugged over her head and discarded somewhere on the floor. Her bra followed. Victor’s hands cupped her bare breasts, thumbs dragging over her n*****s until they peaked hard under his touch.

“I’ve been hard since you walked out this morning,” he rasped against her throat. “Spent half my meetings thinking about how you looked riding my c**k last night.”

The crude words sent a fresh rush of heat between her legs. Aria arched into him. “Then stop talking and take me.”

Victor made a low, approving sound. He lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her through the open living space toward the master bedroom. The city lights painted silver streaks across the dark walls. He lowered her onto the massive bed and stood over her for a moment, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt with deliberate slowness while his eyes dragged over every inch of her.

“Take the rest off,” he ordered quietly.

Aria obeyed, lifting her hips to slide her jeans and underwear down her legs. She lay back completely bare beneath him, pulse racing. Victor’s gaze was heavy, almost reverent, as it moved from her flushed cheeks to the wetness already glistening between her thighs.

He finished undressing without hurry, revealing the powerful body she was quickly becoming addicted to — broad chest dusted with dark hair, strong arms, the thick c**k that stood hard and ready against his stomach. When he finally climbed onto the bed, he didn’t cover her right away. Instead he settled between her legs, pushed her thighs wider, and looked down at her exposed center like it belonged to him.

“Still so wet for me,” he murmured. Then he lowered his head and dragged his tongue through her folds in one long, slow lick.

Aria’s back arched off the bed with a broken cry. Victor didn’t tease. He ate her like a man who had every intention of making her fall apart — tongue circling her c**t, two thick fingers sliding inside her, curling against the spot that made her thighs shake. He kept her there on the edge for what felt like forever, pulling back every time her breathing turned sharp, until she was begging in broken whispers.

“Victor— please—”

Only then did he give her what she needed. His mouth sealed over her c**t and sucked hard while his fingers thrust deep. Aria came with a raw, helpless sound, hips jerking against his face as pleasure ripped through her. He worked her through it until she was trembling and oversensitive, then kissed his way up her body.

When he finally pushed inside her, it was in one long, controlled stroke that stole the air from both of them. Aria’s nails dug into his shoulders. The stretch was perfect — thick, deep, and already so familiar it made her chest ache.

Victor braced himself above her, gray eyes locked on hers as he began to move. Slow at first. Deep. Every thrust deliberate. He watched her face like he was memorizing the exact way she looked when he bottomed out inside her.

“This is ours,” he said, voice rough. “No one else gets this. Not him. Not anyone.”

The possessive words should have scared her. Instead they only made her clench tighter around him. Aria wrapped her legs higher around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Then don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

Victor f****d her with steady, powerful strokes that built until the headboard tapped lightly against the wall. One of his hands slid under her hips, tilting her so he could hit that perfect spot on every thrust. The other tangled in her hair, holding her in place so she had no choice but to look at him while he took her.

When she came the second time it was with his name on her lips and her body locking down hard around his c**k. Victor followed her over the edge with a low, guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt and pulsing deep inside her.

They stayed joined afterward, breathing hard. Victor’s forehead rested against hers. His thumb stroked gently along her cheekbone, a quiet contrast to the way he had just claimed her.

“You’re staying the night,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Aria nodded. She didn’t have the strength to pretend she wanted to leave.

Later, after they had cleaned up and he had pulled her against his chest under the soft sheets, the city lights still glowed beyond the windows. Victor’s fingers traced idle patterns along her spine. The silence between them felt heavier now — not uncomfortable, but full of everything they still weren’t saying.

“Ryan texted me again today,” Aria said quietly into the dark.

Victor’s hand stilled for a second, then resumed its slow path. “What did he want?”

“To talk. He said you’ve been acting strange since I came to the apartment.”

A low breath left him. “He’s not wrong.”

Aria tilted her head to look up at him. “Are you going to be able to keep this from him?”

Victor was quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm but absolute. “I’ll do whatever I have to. But I won’t give you up. Not for him. Not for anyone.”

The words settled deep in her chest — equal parts comfort and fear. Aria pressed her face against his throat, breathing in the clean scent of his skin. Outside, the city kept moving, indifferent to the secret unfolding high above it.

Inside the penthouse, two people who should never have touched each other lay tangled together in the dark, already too far gone to turn back.

Some nights didn’t feel like mistakes.

They felt like the only honest thing left.

And Aria was no longer sure she wanted to be honest about anything else.