Hot daddy's best friend
"You shouldn't be here, Fiona," his deep voice rasped against her ear, his hand still pressed against the wall behind her.
"Then tell me to leave," she whispered, her lips trembling inches from his. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. And in that moment, she knew he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.
Fiona Harry has lived her whole life in a golden cage of wealth, reputation, and suffocating rules. University was supposed to be her escape, her first taste of freedom. But nothing could prepare her for the moment she came face-to-face with Professor Jalen Hart, her father's best friend. One reckless night changes everything. A drunken mistake turns into an irresistible obsession, pulling her deeper into Jalen's forbidden world. But secrets don't stay hidden forever. Between Jude, her possessive friend who knows too much, Marian, Jalen's wicked wife, and the dangerous power of desire, Fiona is about to risk not only hers and her family's reputation but her entire future.
And what happens when the truth comes out especially to Marian?
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Chapter 4
"What... how did you know my room?" I asked, hands trembling as he led himself into the room, pushing my steps back towards the wall. His hand rested on the wall behind me, pinning me in place. I had consumed my mind with thoughts on how to find him in this gigantic school. I wanted him there and he stepped in just in time, but how? It's barely been a few hours since I arrived. His hand wandered on my skin and my thoughts disappeared, melting me into pleasure.
"Do you remember this room bunny?" He asked, his deep husky voice sent chills down my spin, thugging my thigh. That name-only he calls me that, the man in my dreams. Could he be?
"No," I gasped "please" I pleaded as I leaned into the sensation that his fingers pressed close to my entrance, begging for more of his touch. My body quivered, my toes curled, I could already feel my orgasm coming so close and I hoped it wasn't a dream again as I slid my clit over his fingers faster and moaned.
"Just like that bunny, slide that cunt on my fingers, my hungry little slut," he whispered in my ears, soft and thrilling, sucking on my neck after each word.
"Yes," I moaned, arching my body to meet his pace before his large palm smacked my bare ass. Sending a spike straight to my feet.
"Ohh, fuck yes," I cried. "I'm cuming" I whispered, trying not to let my voice out.: I bit down on my lips, I couldn't hold it back anymore, I just needed to cum.
"This cunt is mine now bunny, every juice you spill is mine, and you're gonna take anything I do to you like a good girl," he murmured as his fingers pressed against my entrance.
"Yes, please," I pleaded. I wanted him in, all the way in. I've never had a man touch my teenage pussy before, but his touch made me want more. I could already feel my soul leave my body and back.
"Spread those legs wider," he ordered and I obeyed, parting my trembling legs for his pleasure.
"Good girl," he praised, gliding one finger into my entrance. "Fuck bunny, your pussy is so wet for me, you hungry little slut, One day, I'm gonna fuck this pussy so hard till you cry and beg me to make you cum, you're gonna beg me to stop and keep going" he murmured, his fingers stroking my entrance intensely.
"Please, I need more, I need you," I pleaded shamelessly, knowing I shouldn't be giving in to the feeling so easily, but I couldn't hold back.
He flipped me so fast, pressing my hard nipples against the cold wall through my light blouse and landed a hard smack on my ass. I winced and moaned. "Call me daddy," he ordered.
"Daddy," I whispered.
"Good girl," he groaned. I was enjoying every bit of it, forgetting he was my father's best friend and the boundaries that are meant to hold us back. At that moment, I just wanted more. He landed another smack on my ass and this time it was harder.
"Ohhh, yes" I cried.
"Hmmmm," he groaned. "Bouncy," he added. I pressed my ass against his hard cock, striding it faster and trying to feel it. I imagined how thick it would be and how wide it would stretch my tight walls. Juice spilled off my entrance, gliding down my thigh swiftly.
"I beg you, da...daddy... please make me cum" I pleaded. Then he pulled away, leaving my trembling legs on the spot. I was about to turn when his voice halted me.
"Stay right there, I need to admire this pretty view," he muttered. Groaning as he stepped back to sit on my bed. I stood in place, gasping as my body trembled from the pleasure he had unleashed on me mercilessly.
"Look at me bunny," he said. And I slowly turned. His Adams apple bulged as he took me in from the strands of my hair to my toes reminding me of the hunger in his eyes when he saw me naked back home, and I could tell how bad he wanted me, if only he had his way but he chose to torture me first.
"Strip, slowly..." he said again. His voice was enough for me to pour out my whole juice uncontrollably, it had a thing on me. I gazed at him as I undid my buttons and slid my pink cotton blouse down my shoulder, his glare on me was cold and authoritative. My eyes traced my fingers as I tried to give him a little show he would never forget.
I released my grip on my cloth, letting it slip through my fingers to the floor, exposing my hard plump nipples to the air. A cool breeze brushed over my nipples, making it tingle, and a moan slipped off my lips.
"That's it, bunny" he grunted as his cock jolted, causing my eyes to fly down to his length. I could tell it was huge by looking at it. "Keep going, I love how hard your nipples stare at me, you've got beautiful tiddies bunny," he praised, giving me more energy to push further.
My fingers caressed my skin, creeping down to my waist as I undid my zip slowly, letting my skirt drop seamlessly. My petite body was now exposed, completely naked for only his view aside from the black lace pant still hanging on my waist and I could tell he wanted more. He tilted his head to the back a bit, fighting back the urge to pounce on me.
His eyes kept roaming, making me feel so ashamed.
"Oh, I guess it's not to your liking..." I concluded as he stayed silent. His glare at me was unbearably uncomfortable until he bit his lips. I quickly tried to cover my boobs with my hands, looking away shyly.
"Don't you dare" he snapped right before I could pick up my clothes. "I really want to fuck between those boobs right now," he whispered.
I bite down on my lower lip, fighting back my moan. He knows just the right words to send me thrilling, I was a bit convinced I wasn't dreaming this time, it usually won't take this long, and I didn't want it to stop.
He walked closer to me again, trailing his fingers on my skin as he loosened my grip on my mound. He leaned closer to my mound, his cold tongues swirled on my hard nipples and I snapped, pressing his head harder on my nipple.
"Fuck," it slipped out, faintly. He squeezed as he sucked harder, and my warm juice rolled down my thigh. His fingers crawled back to my thighs pinching my clit so hard. My orgasm rushed close, so close that I couldn't hold back a scream.
"Ohh, yes! I'm coming, I'm coming daddy," I cried and
pow!
A loud bang resounded on the door, snapping me out of my wild dream again.
"Jalen," I screamed, out of my sleep "What? That can't... it was too..." I stuttered, and a loud laugh caught my attention.
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8.2
For three years, nineteen-year-old Ella Campbell rotted in a freezing psychiatric isolation room.
Her billionaire family didn't visit her once, only pulling her out today to force her to publicly apologize to Ashlyn, the perfect sister who had framed her.
At Ashlyn's glamorous engagement gala, Ella was treated worse than a stray dog and forced to watch her childhood sweetheart propose to her sister.
When Ella showed no jealousy, her brother Ivan dragged her onto a dark balcony and nearly choked her to death.
Her mother didn't even check if Ella was breathing, merely ordering a makeup artist to paint thick concealer over the dark purple handprints on Ella's neck so the family's stock price wouldn't drop.
Standing under the blinding stage lights in a shapeless gray dress, facing three hundred mocking Wall Street executives, Ella was supposed to be the broken, obedient psycho the Campbells needed.
"I am deeply sorry for the pain I caused."
She was supposed to end the apology there and bow to her abusers, but Ella didn't shed a single tear.
"My only regret is that I didn't insist on waiting for the police to arrive that night. I deeply regret that I didn't demand a full, legal toxicology report to prove to everyone exactly what happened."
As the ballroom erupted into suspicious whispers and her paralyzed twin brother finally saw the violent bruises hidden beneath her makeup, Ella's counterattack against the Campbell family officially began.
9.8
When Dawn Collins agrees to marry a stranger, love is the last thing on her mind.
All she wants is to protect her siblings and give them a better life. But fate leads her into the arms of Adam Manchester-a man whose heart belongs to a wife lying in a coma.
As Dawn slowly melts the ice around Adam's heart, she begins to believe that maybe, just maybe, love can bloom from sacrifice.
But on the night she's ready to claim her happiness, Adam's wife wakes up.
Now, caught between guilt, love, and heartbreak, Dawn must decide whether to fight for the man she's grown to love... or walk away from the life she risked everything to build.
Because some hearts never let go-and some love stories were never meant to have an easy ending.
9.7
Gemma expected the tearing agony of the bullet wound that had just ended her life.
Instead, her trembling fingers met the cool, smooth friction of heavy silk.
She stared into the mirror. Her face was flawless, completely devoid of the jagged scar that had marred her cheek for the last five years.
It was exactly ten years ago. The day of her engagement party to the ruthless billionaire, Brion Hubbard.
In her past life, her "best friend" Katelyn convinced her to run away with a scheming scumbag.
Katelyn claimed Brion was a heartless tyrant who would ruin her. Gemma had foolishly believed those fake tears.
That choice led to her family's bankruptcy, her brutal disfigurement, and ultimately, a fatal bomb explosion.
The only person who tried to save her was Brion, his blood-soaked body shielding hers from the blast.
She even realized too late that the strawberry cream cakes she always made for him were full of dairy.
He wasn't leaving to cheat on her. He was locking himself in a medical bay, fighting fatal allergic shock, just to accept a tiny scrap of her affection.
Gemma had been so incredibly blind. Why did she trust the venomous snakes who destroyed her, while hating the man who died for her?
Hearing Katelyn frantically knocking on the dressing room door, urging her to run away again, a towering hatred surged through Gemma's veins.
This time, she wasn't going to run.
She was going to expose the traitors, take back her family's wealth, and claim the tyrant for herself.
9.0
Carli followed an anonymous text to a dark garage, only to find her fiancé of seven years tangled with another woman in his Porsche.
She smashed his window, threw her engagement ring at his face, and walked away.
But the betrayal didn't stop there. Her own family sided with the cheater. Her father slapped her across the face so hard she bled, demanding she hand over her late aunt's trust fund.
"If you don't do exactly as you're told tonight, I will freeze every credit card in your name," her father roared.
Forced to attend the exclusive Gutierrez family gala, Carli watched her ex-fiancé parade his cheap mistress to humiliate her, while her stepsister tried to publicly ruin her.
Suddenly, a violent screech echoed as the massive crystal chandelier above them snapped from the ceiling.
In a split second of pure instinct, Vaughn shoved his mistress to safety and threw himself to the ground, completely abandoning Carli to be crushed.
Staring up at the plummeting glass, Carli felt the crushing reality that her entire life had been surrounded by monsters.
But the fatal impact never came.
A massive force yanked her into a hard chest, shielding her body entirely from the explosive shrapnel.
Carli opened her eyes to find Fletcher Gutierrez—the ruthless billionaire king of Wall Street and the masked stranger from her reckless one-night stand—bleeding heavily over her.
Feeling his warm blood on her hands, Carli knew the game had just changed.
8.9
My family's company went bankrupt, and my biological father was lying in the ICU, kept alive by machines that cost tens of thousands a day.
I thought it was just a tragic business failure, until I caught my mother in bed with my stepfather.
They had secretly transferred all our assets months ago, deliberately bankrupting the company and leaving my father to die.
To pay the hospital bills, my stepfather forced me to a private club, trying to sell me to a sleazy investor.
When I refused, he slapped me across the face, and my mother just looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"Be realistic, Jaelynn. A woman's body is a tool. Use it to get what you need."
Later, right before my father's emergency surgery, my stepfather signed a Do Not Resuscitate order and froze the medical accounts.
"If you don't get on your knees and spread your legs for him, I will tell the hospital to pull your father's plug."
Standing in the freezing rain, covered in mud and blood, I stared at the astronomical hospital bill in my hand.
My own family had plotted to murder my father and sell me to the highest bidder. The betrayal shattered every ounce of sanity I had left.
I didn't cry or beg them anymore.
Instead, I pulled out a water-stained, gold-embossed business card.
It belonged to Dolph Valentine, the most ruthless billionaire in New York and my ex-fiancé's uncle.
If they wanted to destroy my life, I was going to sell my soul to the biggest monster of them all and drag them straight to hell.
7.6
I was the Chicago Outfit's princess, and Luca and Matteo were my sworn protectors. We had mixed our blood at ten years old, promising that nothing would ever touch me.
But that oath turned to ash the night Sofia Ricci aimed a Roman candle at my chest.
The firework slammed into my shoulder, igniting my silk dress instantly. As I rolled on the concrete, screaming while the flames ate into my skin, I waited for my boys to save me.
They didn't.
Instead, I watched through the smoke as they rushed to Sofia. They wrapped their jackets—the ones meant to shield me—around the girl who had just set me on fire, comforting her because the "kickback" had scared her.
They let me burn to keep her warm.
When I woke up in the hospital with permanent scars, they brought me a letter of apology from her and defended her "accident." They even cut their palms to pay her debt, ignoring the fact that I was the one in bandages.
That was the moment Elena Vitiello died.
I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I simply packed my bags and defected to the one place they couldn't follow: the arms of Dante Moretti, the lethal Capo of New York.
By the time they realized their mistake and came crawling back to beg in the rain, I was already wearing another man's ring.
"You want forgiveness?" I asked, looking down at them.
"Burn for it."