Dinner dragged on like sweet, unbearable torture. Every second I sat across from Mr. Rossi—Daddy—my body burned. My pussy was a slick, throbbing disaster, the lace thong completely ruined and clinging obscenely to my swollen folds. I could feel my juices slowly trickling down my inner thighs, threatening to leave a wet spot on the elegant chair.

My nipples strained painfully against the thin emerald fabric of my dress, hypersensitive with every slight shift. I smiled and nodded at Nicolos’s stories, but my eyes kept drifting to his father. Those dark, commanding eyes that had watched me choke on his enormous cock just minutes ago. The taste of him still...