REINA

I froze.

For a moment, I thought I'd imagined it. That my dirty, perverted mind had warped his words and made them filthier than they were. But no. His voice, rough and low, cut through the heat in the room again.

"Crawl the fuck to me and take this big cock in your mouth like a good girl."

My breath hitched.

There he stood. Domenico Gravano. Towering. Commanding. And in his hand was the thick, veiny cock I'd only ever seen in my fantasies, now real and stiff and dripping right in front of me.

His fingers wrapped around it, fisting the length slowly like he was already imagining how my mouth would feel around it. My heart thumped so hard I could feel it between my legs.

I couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't move.

But God, I wanted to. Every part of me ached to obey him. To drop to my knees like the good girl he demanded. To finally taste the cock I'd dreamed about every night in silence.

The same cock I watched shift beneath tailored trousers during family dinners. The same one I imagined fucking me in every room of this goddamn villa.

"Now," he barked. "Or I'll bend you over and fuck your throat raw."

That did it.

I sank to my knees.

The marble floor was cold beneath me, but my body was on fire. I crawled naked, trembling, wet as sin. Each movement forward made my hard nipples drag across the floor, leaving me whimpering from the friction. His eyes dark and feral never left me.

When I finally reached him, I paused, tilting my head up like a starving girl begging for permission.

His hand slid into my hair, fingers curling tight. "Open."

I did.

And then... I tasted him.

The moment his cock slid into my mouth, my world narrowed. Nothing else existed but him. Daddy's scent, his skin, the way his precum coated my tongue like the first sip of a forbidden drug. He was hot and heavy and thick, and I had to stretch my lips wide to take him.

"Good girl," he groaned, hips flexing forward. "Fuck, that's it."

My pussy clenched at those words.

I sucked harder, letting my tongue swirl around the head like I'd seen in porn, drool slipping from the corners of my mouth as I tried to please him, tried to prove I was worth it. I'd never done this before. But nothing had ever felt so right. His moans, low and masculine, made my clit throb.

He liked it. He fucking loved it.

Daddy liked what I was doing with my mouth.

Fuck! That made me even more hornier for him. For daddy.

"You've thought about this, haven't you?" he said through gritted teeth, his grip tightening in my hair as I bobbed my head. Sucking daddy even more harder. "Dreamt about sucking Daddy's cock?"

"Mmmph!"

I whimpered around him, my eyes fluttering up to meet his.

"Thought so," he growled, pulling out just long enough to slap the head of his cock on my tongue. "Nasty little girl. So sweet... and so fucking filthy."

He pushed back in, deeper this time. I choked a little, but he didn't stop. And I never want daddy to stop either.

His hand was on the back of my head now, guiding me, forcing me to take more. My jaw ached, my throat burned, but I didn't care. I moaned, loving the stretch, the invasion, the sheer wrongness of it all.

And he moaned back.

"Christ, your mouth," he hissed, dragging his cock out slowly and watching the strand of spit connect us. "You were made for this."

Fuck!

Daddy was praising me, making my pussy drip even more.

He bent slightly, his hand sliding down my back, then lower, palming my ass before caressing up to my breasts. He squeezed one breast in his hand, then both, tweaking my nipples between thick fingers while I sucked him. His other hand cradled my jaw, then stroked my cheek with an oddly tender touch as he fucked my mouth.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I moaned around him, my throat tightening around his cock as I moaned for daddy.

I was soaked. My thighs were sticky, my whole body a bundle of nerves about to snap. I wanted him to touch me there. To fuck me. To ruin me completely.

But I didn't stop. I kept sucking. Kept moaning. Kept letting him use my mouth like it belonged to him.

He twitched. His breath hitched.

And then he came.

A thick, hot burst flooded my mouth. I gasped, but his hand held me firm.

"Swallow it," he ordered, panting. "All of it."

I did. Every single drop. Didn't want to waste daddy's gift for me or daddy might get mad.

My body trembled as I obeyed, the salty taste lingering on my tongue like something so sinful yet so beautiful. And when he pulled away, his cock still slick and twitching, he smacked it gently against my lips.

"Lick it clean."

I didn't hesitate. I licked him slowly, lovingly, like I never wanted the moment to end. Like I could memorize him with my tongue. He let me. He stood there, chest rising and falling, watching me as if he was seeing me for the first time, not just as his son's wife, but something else entirely.

Something he wanted.

When I was done, I sat back on my heels, waiting. Expecting him to say something. To touch me again. To maybe... praise me.

But instead, he tucked himself back into his pants, zipped up, and stepped away like nothing had happened.

He didn't speak.

Didn't look at me.

Didn't even fucking blink.

Just turned on his heel and walked out of the room like I was no one.

I stayed there. Naked. On the floor. My knees bruised, my mouth swollen, my pussy aching. His cum still warm in my belly.

I didn't know whether to cry or come again.

Because that moment my first time was the most intense, erotic, soul-shattering experience of my life.

And he left me like trash.

Like I was nothing but a dirty little whore he never wanted to waste a single minute with again.

REINA

It had been over an hour since it happened.

Since I got on my knees and sucked my father-in-law's cock like my life depended on it.

An hour since I had done something so forbidden.

And yet I was still trembling. Still wet. Still shamefully, achingly needy.

I lay on my back in bed, staring up at the ceiling, the sheets twisted around my legs. The villa was quiet now, too quiet, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath, waiting for me to either fall apart or do something stupid all over again.

And maybe I was already doing something stupid.

Because I couldn't stop thinking about him. About the way Domenico looked at me like he owned me. Like I was nothing more than a mouth for him to fuck and leave behind. And God help me... I liked it. I liked it so fucking much it made my thighs clench and my nipples painfully hard under my silk crop top.

He hadn't said a word after. Hadn't looked back. Just walked out, leaving me on the floor like discarded trash.

And still... my pussy pulsed at the memory. My whole body still aching for his touch.

I should have felt humiliated. I did, at first. For a few minutes after he left, I sat on the floor crying, angry at myself for being so weak to pleasure, so hungry, so desperate. For wanting him. For loving the way he tasted. For the way I swallowed it all down like it was salvation. For the way he made me feel good.

But now?

Now, I couldn't stop touching myself.

The shame was still there, curling around my ribs like barbed wire but it wasn't strong enough to stop my fingers from sliding down my stomach and slipping between my thighs.

"Mmmph." I moaned softly as I found how soaked I still was.

"Fuck," I whispered into the quiet.

It wasn't the first time I'd fantasized about him. But it was the first time I had something real to cling to. Not just vague imaginings of what his cock looked like, but the actual memory of it thick and veiny, heavy on my tongue, twitching as he moaned good girl like I was his dirty little toy.

I spread my legs wider, the cool air licking at my wetness as I let my fingers circle my clit. Slowly. Teasingly. My other hand cupped my breast, fingers pinching my nipple as I pictured Domenico standing over me again, ordering me to crawl. Barking that deep, ruthless "Now," like I had no choice.

I didn't want a choice.

The fantasy warped, deepened and now I was bent over the couch, and he was behind me, growling filth into my ear as he pounded into me. His hand fisted in my hair. His ring-clad fingers digging into my hips. My husband's name on his lips just to remind me how wrong it was.

Just how filthy what we were doing was.

"Your pussy was wasted on him," I imagined him saying. "You were mine the moment you stepped your legs into my house."

I gasped as I rubbed faster, my body arching.

My mind fed me more, his mouth on my neck, biting, bruising, claiming. His cock stretching me wide while his voice stayed cold, cruel, intoxicating.

Then the image shifted again.

This time we were on my marital bed. This bed. My husband's scent still clinging to the pillows, his shirts in the closet.

Domenico fucking me right here where his son sleeps every night.

I moaned louder now, my hips rising to meet my own touch. I rubbed harder, faster, fingers slick and needy. The thought of being caught only turned me on more even more. The danger. The depravity. The fact that it was his son I was married to, but he was the one making me feel alive.

And then I imagined it.

My husband walking in. Opening the door.

Finding his wife sprawled naked across his bed, his father's cock buried deep in her pussy, her moans like music.

He would scream. He would break. And still I wouldn't stop. Because I loved it so fucking much.

That image alone sent me over the edge.

My orgasm slammed into me so hard I arched off the bed, my mouth open in a silent cry, my toes curling. My thighs shook, my entire body clenching as the forbidden pleasure tore through me.

"Fuck... Daddy..." I whimpered breathlessly.

The aftershocks left me weak and wet and shivering.

It was the hardest I'd ever come in my life.

And it was because of him.

Domenico Gravano.

My sexy as sin father-in-law.

I lay there for a moment, limbs splayed, sweat cooling on my skin. My fingers were still between my legs, wet with proof of what I'd just done to myself, something I always did when I thought of him.

Something my husband could never do. Something he could never make me feel.

I eventually dragged myself up and stumbled to the bathroom. I cleaned up quickly, brushing my hair, rinsing my mouth, removing my crop top and short. Putting on my nightwear and smoothing my nightgown back over my flushed skin like it could hide the sin burning just beneath the surface.

I was just crawling back into bed when I heard the door open.

My heart skipped.

Not because I was afraid of being caught.

But because the timing was almost too perfect.

My husband walked in, looking exhausted. His eyes were dull, his movements robotic. He barely glanced at me before kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his jacket.

I watched him like a stranger. Felt nothing. No flutter. No ache. No anticipation. Just numbness.

He sat on the edge of the bed and sighed, then leaned over and gave me the same kiss he always gave me. The one on my forehead. Gentle. Lifeless. Obligatory.

And then he collapsed beside me and passed out, just like that.

No questions.

No passion.

No teasing.

No idea.

I turned onto my side, staring at him. This man. The man I was married to.

The man who had no clue his father's cum had been in my mouth just an hour before.

I should've felt sick.

Instead, I smiled.

Because for the first time in years, I'd felt everything.

Because Domenico made me feel desired. Dominated. Ruined.

Because while my husband slept beside me like a fucking meatbag, the ghost of his father's moans still echoed in my ears. Making my pussy drip with pleasure.

And I knew without a doubt... I would do it again. And again if Daddy let me.

DOMENICO

I couldn't sleep.

I didn't even try.

The moment I stepped into my building and slammed the door shut behind me, I already knew there'd be no peace tonight. I didn't bother with the lights. Just dropped my coat, loosened my tie, and stalked toward the bar like a man possessed.

My hand shook as I poured the scotch. Not because of nerves but because of her.

Reina.

The image had burned into my brain like a permanent fucking brand.

On her knees. Her lips stretched around my cock, her moans humming down my shaft. Her wide, wet eyes locked on mine like I was God.

And maybe I was for that moment.

Because she worshipped me.

And I let her.

I came in her mouth. Told her to swallow. Watched her lick it clean like the obedient little whore she turned out to be.

And fuck me, I hadn't stopped thinking about it since.

I downed the glass in one shot.

I didn't hate it.

I should've hated it. She was my son's wife. The woman I was supposed to see as family, off-limits. I should've felt guilt, disgust, something other than the goddamn throbbing in my pants.

But I didn't.

All I felt was need.

My cock was hard as a pipe again. Just remembering how she looked up at me with flushed cheeks and tears in her lashes had me aching like a teenager. Her lips were swollen. Her mouth was so fucking perfect. And when I called her a good girl?

She whimpered like she was coming.

"Fuck you, Domenico."

I growled under my breath, tossing the empty glass at the wall. It shattered, but I didn't flinch.

I needed to get her out of my head.

Needed to get off.

So I made a call.

Eva. One of the usuals. Pretty, tight, trained. She'd never disappointed me before.

"Reina, what are you doing to me?" I groaned out immediately I dropped the call.

A few minutes later, there was a sound of car driving into the villa.

Eva arrived quickly, as she always did, dressed like she was expecting to be bent over the moment she walked in. I didn't even say hello just pointed to the floor beside the couch.

"Knees."

Her smile stretched. "Rough night, Mr. Gravano?"

I didn't answer. I wasn't in the mood for conversation.

But the moment she unzipped my pants and wrapped her lips around me, I knew it was useless.

She wasn't her.

Eva's mouth was too wet, too eager. Her movements too rehearsed. There was no trembling. No hesitation. No sinful innocence to corrupt.

No Reina.

"Stop," I snapped, pushing her away.

She looked up in confusion. "Did I-"

"Out."

She blinked. "But-"

"Get out, Eva. Now."

I threw some bills at her. She took them, pouted, and left.

The second the door clicked shut, I dragged a hand over my face and stormed into my office. I powered on my laptop, ignoring the files, the red-flagged emails from the warehouse bust, the unfinished hit order from earlier. None of it mattered.

Not when I was this hard over her.

Over Reina.

My sexy as sin daughter-in-law.

I opened a hidden folder buried beneath layers of encryption. Labeled something innocent. HousePlans_22. But I knew what it really held.

Photos of Reina.

Some from the estate's security cams. Some stolen from family albums. Some I'd taken myself, discreetly, obsessively zoomed-in shots of her by the pool, bent over a chair, laughing with her hair down. Ones where her skirts rode too high, her shirt clung too tight, her towel slipped too low.

But the one I opened now?

That was my favorite.

It was grainy. Low-lit. A shot from the hallway camera last month. Reina in nothing but a towel, fresh out of the shower, biting her lip as she paused at the bedroom door.

Don't even think about how I got my hand on it. I had had few cameras secretly installed in there before I changed my mind and removed it just after two days of installing them.

My cock throbbed instantly.

Just thinking about how I had watched her bathing naked in the bathroom, while playing with her pussy, moaning my name softly so her husband wouldn't hear.

I dropped into the chair, unzipped my pants, and fisted myself hard. The sound of skin against skin filled the room as I stared at her photo like it could come to life.

I imagined walking behind her that night. Pulling the towel away. Pushing her against the wall and shoving my cock between her thighs. Her gasps. Her struggle. Then surrender.

"Fuck," I muttered, speeding up.

I was so lost in the fantasy I didn't hear the car at first.

But the engine was unmistakable.

My son's car.

Pulling into his part of the villa.

And just like that something in me snapped.

Jealousy.

Rage.

Possession.

Hatred.

My hand tightened around my cock.

He was going home to her. To the mouth that I had claimed just hours ago. To the body I'd tasted for the first time and knew I'd never be able to forget.

Was he going to fuck her tonight?

Would she let him?

Would she be thinking about me the entire time?

The thought burned like acid and made me harder all at once. My hips bucked. I stroked faster. The jealousy twisted into hunger. What if she moaned my name in her head while his cock was inside her?

What if she wished it was me?

"Yeah," I growled, jerking faster, imagining her legs spread for him, but her eyes closed-seeing me.

"Fuck, princess! Fuck, I'm going to come for you. Daddy is gonna cum for you. Right in your mouth." I growled, stroking my cock a little too harder, staring hungrily at her picture of my computer.

I came hard, spilling over my hand, chest rising and falling in short, uneven breaths.

But there was no peace after.

No satisfaction.

Only obsession.

I stood, paced the office. Tried to open work documents. Tried to read intel reports. But every line blurred into nothing.

I couldn't focus.

All I could see was Reina.

All I could feel was the ghost of her mouth wrapped around me.

And all I could think was-I wanted her again. And again and again until I could memorize every line and curves of her body.

Not like before. Not quick. Not desperate. Not on her knees in her husband's villa.

This time?

I wanted her in my bed.

Naked.

Willing.

Moaning my name over and over until the whole fucking house knew she belonged to me.

"You just wait, Reina. I'm going to make you regret ever teasing a man like me."