DADDY'S LITTLE SLUT

CHAPTER 17

We cleaned up as much as we could with the cheap napkins in the room. It didn’t help much. My dress still stuck to the thick streaks of c*m on my inner thighs. Every step made more of it slide down toward my knees. Lily fixed her hair in the mirror, reapplied her lipstick like nothing had happened, and gave me a quick, wicked little smile before unlocking the door.

We stepped back into the hallway, then into the pounding music and bodies of the main club. The neon lights felt too bright. My legs were shaky. I could feel both men’s loads still leaking out of me with every movement, warm and filthy, soaking into the short black dress.

Lily checked her phone. “Dad’s outside. He’s been texting. We should go before he comes in looking for us.”

We pushed through the crowd toward the exit. The cool night air hit my flushed skin the second we stepped outside. Marcus’s truck was parked a little ways down the street, engine running, headlights off. He was watching the door.

Lily climbed into the front passenger seat, still buzzing from the night. I slid into the back, carefully, thighs pressed together so the mess between them wouldn’t drip onto the leather too obviously. The second the door shut, the thick smell of s*x clung to me in the closed space of the truck.

Marcus looked at us in the rearview mirror. His eyes lingered on me a second longer than on Lily.

“Have fun?” he asked, voice calm. Controlled.

Lily laughed, already buckling her seatbelt. “So much fun. The music was insane. We danced forever. Vanessa even disappeared for a while—thought I lost her.”

I met Marcus’s eyes in the mirror and didn’t look away.

He pulled into traffic without another word. The truck was quiet except for the low hum of the engine and Lily’s occasional comments about the club, the drinks, some guy who’d bought her a shot. I sat in the back with my legs tightly crossed, feeling the slow, heavy trickle of c*m still sliding out of my used cunt and down toward the seat. My dress was damp. My c**t throbbed. Every bump in the road made me more aware of how thoroughly I’d been f****d.

Marcus’s hands stayed steady on the wheel, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. He knew. Or he suspected. The way I’d walked, the flush on my cheeks, the careful way I was sitting—none of it was lost on him.

Halfway home Lily’s head started to nod. The alcohol and the late hour finally catching up. By the time we turned onto the long road toward the lake house she was half-asleep against the window.

Marcus’s voice was low enough that only I could hear it.

“You’re quiet.”

I swallowed. “Just tired.”

“You smell like sex.”

My stomach dropped. I didn’t answer.

He glanced at me again in the mirror. “I told you I’d check when you got in this car. Whether that cunt was still empty… or if you let someone else fill it.”

Lily shifted in her sleep but didn’t wake.

I slowly uncrossed my legs in the dark back seat. The wet sound of my thighs separating was soft but unmistakable. Fresh c*m had already soaked through the dress onto the leather.

Marcus’s jaw flexed. He didn’t say anything else for the rest of the drive. He just kept his eyes on the road, breathing a little harder, the air between us growing thicker and darker with every mile.

When we finally pulled up to the house, Lily stirred and mumbled something about going straight to bed. She stumbled out of the truck and up the porch steps without looking back.

Marcus turned off the engine. The sudden silence was heavy.

He didn’t get out.

Instead he looked at me in the rearview mirror one more time, eyes almost black in the dark.

“Get in the front,” he said quietly. “Now.”

I climbed over the center console on shaky legs and dropped into the passenger seat. The second I sat, more c*m leaked out of me onto the leather. Marcus reached over, grabbed the hem of my short dress, and yanked it up to my waist without a word.

He stared at the mess between my legs—swollen, red, glistening with thick white streaks that were still dripping out of me.

“Two of them,” he said, voice flat and dangerous. “At least.”

I didn’t deny it.

His hand slid between my thighs, two fingers pushing into my overloaded cunt, scooping out the evidence. He brought them up between us, shiny and dripping, and looked me dead in the eye.

“You really are a filthy little slut, aren’t you?”

I nodded, breath already shaking.

“Yes, Daddy.”

The word hung in the dark truck like a match waiting to be struck.