Make Me Moan, Daddy

REINA

I tossed and turned, but sleep wouldn't come. Not with everything that had happened earlier. Every time I shut my eyes, I saw him Domenico.

My father-in-law. The man I should've been running from, not aching for.

The taste of him still lingered on my tongue.

I lay there in the dim light from the nightstand lamp, beside the man who was supposed to be my husband. His arm was draped over his face, snoring like nothing was wrong, like I wasn't the dirtiest wife alive.

I turned my head, studying the outline of his face in the moonlight seeping through the curtains. Nothing stirred in me when I looked at him. Not anger. Not love. Just numbness.

The only fire in my veins came from his father.

I couldn't breathe next to him. Not after what I had done. Not after what I wanted to do again.

So I slipped out of bed, the sheets brushing off my legs like they were judging me too. My bare feet hit the cold floor, and I moved through the villa on autopilot. My thin silk nightgown clung to me with every step, damp with sweat and need. I didn't even know where I was going. My body did.

It took me outside.

The moment I stepped into the open air, the world changed. The moon was high, casting silver light over the marble and the pool, and there-moving through the water like a god from a myth-was him.

Domenico Gravano.

My dangerously sexy father-in-law.

Swimming slow, deliberate laps, his body slicing through the water with lethal grace. Every ripple shimmered off his back, off those broad, scarred shoulders. The muscles in his back rolled with each stroke, water streaming down every inch of his torso like it worshiped him. His tattoos peeked out of the surface before vanishing again.

My breath caught in my throat.

He was a painting, a weapon, a man I could never resist and didn't want to.

He noticed me almost immediately. Of course he did.

He stopped mid-lap and turned his head, wet hair slicked back, eyes gleaming like molten silver.

"Couldn't sleep?" His voice was hoarse and low. Dangerously possessive.

I shivered. "No. Just needed air."

He drifted closer to the edge. "Come here."

It wasn't a suggestion. I swallowed hard and obeyed.

I walked slowly to the edge of the pool, knees weak, and sat down, dipping my feet into the water. It was colder than I expected, and yet I felt like I was burning from the inside out.

He swam toward me, stopping right between my legs. He rose slightly out of the water, droplets sliding down his chest like sweat. He didn't touch me. Not yet. He just stared.

Then he gripped my ankles.

His fingers wrapped around me with that familiar dominance, unchallenged, commanding. Slowly, deliberately, he spread my legs wider. My sleep gown rode up my thighs, exposing the thin lace of my panties.

"You wearing those pretty little things again?" His voice was darker now, lower.

I nodded, barely breathing.

He moved closer. "You wet already?"

"Maybe," I whispered, my throat tight.

He chuckled and tilted his head. "Did my son fuck you tonight?"

I blinked. "No."

"Did he even touch you?"

"No."

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "So you just lay there next to him, wet and aching, thinking about me?"

I nodded again. My voice had deserted me.

Fuck, what is this man doing to me? This should be illegal. It should be illegal for a man to be this hot, this fucking sexy.

"You're fucking shameless," he muttered. "Look at you. Soaked through your panties, staring down at me like a hungry little slut. Did you think I wouldn't notice you creeping out here like a naughty girl sneaking off to her daddy?"

"You told me to come," I whispered, voice trembling.

Because in my head, it was like I heard him calling to me.

"You always do what I say, hmm?" he smirked, as if he knew just what he had been doing to my head.

"Only when I want to."

He smirked, moving between my legs until his chest brushed my knees.

"You wanted this," he growled. "You knew exactly what would happen the second you stepped outside."

I didn't deny it.

He reached under the water, fingers hooking into the sides of my panties. I sucked in a sharp breath.

"Take them off," he ordered.

I hesitated for half a second, heart pounding.

"I won't ask again," he warned, tugging once and with a single brutal rip, the lace tore in half. He tossed the wet scrap onto the tiles.

"Fucking hell..." he murmured, dragging his hands up my inner thighs. "You're soaked. Did just watching me swim do this to you?"

"You looked... beautiful," I admitted breathlessly.

His eyes narrowed. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to be beautiful to you, Reina. I want to be the man who ruins you."

"Daddy..." I trailed off, just hearing him say he'd ruin me made my pussy start throbbing shamelessly again.

His fingers found my slit. My entire body jolted at the first touch. He didn't ease in, he teased me, barely grazing my folds, then moving to circle my clit.

"You fantasize about me when you're next to him, don't you?" he whispered.

"Yes." I muttered, gasping for breath.

Daddy's touch was doing something dangerous to me again.

"Tell me what you see."

"I see your mouth between my legs," I breathed. "I see you bending me over your desk and calling me your little whore. I see your cum leaking out of me. I see you fucking me just right, daddy."

He groaned, burying his face in my thigh, biting down hard enough to make me cry out.

"I should fuck you right here," he growled. "Right in the open. Make you scream my name while the whole fucking household hears. And maybe your husband too. I think I want him to see just how good I'm making his slutty little wife feel."

"Do it," I whispered. "Please, daddy."

"You don't beg like a wife," he muttered, kissing up my thigh. "You beg like a whore."

"Then treat me like one." I cried out, writhing with forbidden pleasure. "Treat me like your whore, daddy."

With a growl, he slipped two fingers inside me. I cried out, grabbing the edge of the pool as he began fucking me with them, slow at first, then faster. His palm slapped the water as he used it for leverage, eyes locked on mine the entire time.

"I can feel your cunt squeezing already," he murmured. "So desperate to cum for Daddy."

"More," I gasped. "Don't stop, daddy."

He added a third finger, curling them just right, and I nearly screamed.

"God... mmfuckingfuck... Daddy! Oh fuck!"

"There it is," he growled. "That filthy little mouth calling for Daddy. Bet you love cumming for me more than anyone else."

I nodded frantically. "Yes-only you. Only ever you, daddy."

"Cum for me then," he said darkly, rubbing my clit again. "Let me feel how bad you need me."

I shattered, thighs clenching around his waist, my back arching so hard it felt like I might break. I bit down on my lip to muffle the scream, but he didn't stop.

He kept his fingers moving, even as I trembled, as I cried out and rode wave after wave of pleasure. He pulled me forward, kissing me hard, tongue sliding into my mouth like he wanted to taste my orgasm.

When he pulled away, his hand was still inside me. His other hand gripped my throat.

"Next time," he whispered, voice low and furious, "you're not getting off easy. I'm going to bend you over and fuck you until you cry."

I shivered.

He dragged his wet fingers up, smearing my slick across my stomach.

"I'm not sharing you anymore. Not with my son. Not with anyone."

"Then take me," I said, breathless.

He grinned, teeth flashing. "Oh, I will. Again and again."

He stepped back into the water, dragging his hand down my leg before turning and swimming a slow lap like nothing had happened. I sat there, panties torn, thighs wet with my own desire, heart thundering in my chest.

I had no idea how long I stayed there, watching him disappear into the shadows of the water again. But one thing was clear-whatever I thought this was, it was far too late to stop.

Because I wasn't just craving him now.

I belonged to him.