DADDY'S LITTLE SLUT

CHAPTER 4

Marcus left my room a little after two in the morning. He didn’t say much—just kissed me once more, deep and slow, tasting like s*x and regret, then pulled his clothes back on in the dark. I stayed naked on the ruined sheets, his c*m still leaking slowly out of me, thighs sticky, every muscle sore in the best way.

The door clicked shut behind him. I listened to his footsteps fade down the hall, then the soft close of his own bedroom door. For a long time I just lay there, fingers tracing the bruises he’d left on my hips, pushing two fingers back inside myself to feel how full and used I still was. His c*m and my wetness mixed on my hand. I licked it clean, smiling into the dark.

I didn’t bother changing the sheets. I wanted to sleep in the mess. I wanted to wake up smelling like him.

Sleep eventually dragged me under.

Morning light pushed through the curtains around eight. My body ached in places I hadn’t felt in a long time—jaw sore from taking him so deep, ass still tender from the plug and his c**k, cunt swollen and sensitive every time I shifted. I sat up slowly. Dried c*m streaked the insides of my thighs. The toys were still scattered across the bed like evidence.

I gathered them quietly, wiped them down in the bathroom, and hid them back in the bottom of my suitcase. Then I stepped into the shower and let the hot water run over me. I didn’t scrub too hard. I left the faint marks on my neck and the fingerprints on my hips. I wanted him to see them later.

When I came downstairs Lily was already at the kitchen island in an oversized T-shirt, scrolling on her phone and eating cereal.

“Morning, slut,” she said without looking up, then grinned. “Kidding. You look wrecked. Late night?”

My heart skipped, but her tone was casual. I poured coffee and leaned against the counter, deliberately letting the short robe I’d thrown on gap open a little at the top.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I said. “Too hot.”

Marcus walked in a minute later. Freshly showered, dark jeans, plain black T-shirt that stretched across his chest. His eyes found me instantly. For half a second the air between us went tight and filthy—both of us remembering exactly how he’d looked last night with his c**k buried in my ass, muttering that it was wrong while he kept f*****g me harder.

Then he looked away and opened the fridge.

“Morning,” he said, voice normal. Controlled. “Coffee’s fresh?”

“Just made it,” I answered.

Lily chattered about wanting to go swimming after breakfast, maybe take the boat out. Marcus nodded in the right places, but every time she turned her head I caught him glancing at me—at the faint bruise peeking above the collar of my robe, at the way I stood with my thighs pressed together because I was still wet just from being in the same room as him.

When Lily went upstairs to change into her swimsuit, the kitchen fell quiet.

Marcus set his mug down and crossed the space between us in three long strides. He didn’t touch me—just stood close enough that I could feel the heat of his body.

“You okay?” he asked, low.

I looked up at him and let my robe slip open another inch so he could see the top of one bare breast and the red mark his mouth had left on it.

“I’m sore,” I whispered. “In the best f*****g way. Every time I walk I feel where you were.”

His jaw flexed. His hand twitched like he wanted to grab me.

“Lily’s going to be back down in five minutes,” he said.

“I know.” I reached out and brushed my fingers lightly over the front of his jeans, feeling him already half-hard. “Doesn’t mean I can’t think about last night while she’s talking. About how you ate my cunt like you were starving. About how you came so deep inside me I can still feel it leaking out.”

He exhaled hard through his nose, caught my wrist, and squeezed once—warning and promise at the same time—before letting go and stepping back just as Lily’s footsteps sounded on the stairs.

I smiled sweetly, tightened my robe, and turned to the sink like nothing had happened.

But the look he gave me over the rim of his coffee mug said everything.

Tonight wasn’t going to be enough.

Not even close.