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I suddenly pull out, my cock leaving her mouth with a wet, obscene pop that echoes across the deck. “Stick out your tongue,” I command, my voice barely recognizable, as I release her hair to stroke my cock.

She obeys immediately, her pink tongue extending, trembling slightly. I open my fist and place her vitamin in the center of her tongue.

Her eyes widen, understanding dawning as my cock twitches. “Fuck,” I grit, cum spurting across her tongue and coating the pill. She keeps her tongue out, dutifully accepting every drop of my cum, and waiting for permission to swallow.

“Such a good girl for Daddy,” I praise, gently easing her mouth closed. “Now, swallow.”

Sophia’s eyes not leaving mine, her throat works as she swallows her pill and my cum. Her submission is so fucking beautiful; I’m half-hard again at the sight.

I help her to her feet, gently supporting her weight, mindful of her center of gravity shifted by the pregnancy. She sways slightly, her face flushed, her chin glistening. Dipping my head, I trace the path of my release up her chin and across her lips until I’m licking it across her tongue.

She moans into my mouth as I ease her onto the chaise lounge, my hands gentle but firm, positioning her where I want her. I untie her bikini bottoms, pulling the soaked fabric away from her body and tossing it aside. Her pussy is swollen and glistening, practically begging for my attention as I settle between her thighs.

“Spread your legs,” I command roughly. “Wide. I want everyone to see how fucking wet you are from sucking my cock.”

She obeys, her thighs falling open, revealing the slick folds of her pussy and the jewel of the plug I nestled in her ass this morning before we came outside to sunbathe. She’s been wearing it for hours, her body adjusting to the invasion, preparing for what I plan to take from her tonight.

I grip the base of the plug, twisting it slightly, watching her hole clench around the intrusion. She gasps, her hands flying to her breasts, pinching her own nipples in desperation.

“Promise me,” I say, my voice dropping to a dangerous purr as I lean down, my breath hot against her core. “Promise you won’t forget anymore, and I’ll let everyone see how much you love my tongue in your cunt while I play with this cute little plug in your ass.”

“I promise.” Her hips bucking upward, seeking my mouth. “I promise, Daddy. I won’t forget. I’ll be good.”

“Say it again,” I demand, my tongue darting out to trace her outer lips, tasting her arousal, teasing her. “Beg me.”

“Please, Daddy,” she whimpers. “Please eat my pussy. I promise I’ll be good. Please let them see how good you make me feel. I promise I’ll take my vitamin. Please, Daddy, please⁠—”

Her pleading dissolves into a scream when I drop my head and feast on her, my tongue plunging deep, curling inside her, tasting the sweet nectar of her arousal. She’s so wet, so ready, her body responding instantly to me, her hips bucking against my face as I eat her with desperate, hungry strokes.

I keep one hand on the plug, twisting it, pushing it deeper, feeling her body clench around my tongue in her pussy and the plug in her ass. She’s so completely mine in this moment that my cock is hardening again, aching to be inside her, to claim every hole.

“That’s it,” I murmur against her, the vibrations making her cry out. “Let them hear you. Let them hear what Daddy does to you. Let them hear how hard you come for me.”

I focus on her clit, sucking it between my lips, flicking with my tongue, while my fingers work the plug in her ass. Her fingers tangle in my hair, and her heels dig into my back, she’s so close to unraveling for me.

“Oh God, oh God, Vance, Daddy, please⁠—”

She comes with a violence that shocks me, her body convulsing, her thighs clamping around my head, and a gush of arousal flooding my mouth as she screams my name. I lick her through it, gentling my touch, drinking down her release, until she’s trembling and spent. Kissing my way over her hip, the swell of her stomach, and through the valley of her breasts, as I make my way to her lips.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” I breathe, my cock hard and heavy against her thigh, throbbing with renewed need. “I’m fucking hard again just thinking about finally sinking into your tight virgin ass.”

I tease the plug still seated deep inside her. She whimpers, her eyes fluttering open, dark and dazed with pleasure. I gather her into my arms, lifting her easily despite her added weight, cradling her against my chest. She wraps her arms around my neck, her legs around my waist, and I can feel her heart hammering against my ribs, the aftershocks of her orgasm still rippling through her body.

“Inside,” I murmur into her hair, carrying her toward the glass doors that lead to our bedroom. “I’m going to spend the rest of the afternoon buried in your ass. And I don’t plan to share that with anyone, sweetheart. That’s just for Daddy.”

She buries her face in my neck, her breath hot against my skin, and whispers the two words that undo me completely, that bind me to her forever, that make me hers as much as she is mine.

“Please, Daddy.”

Today marks three years since I married Vance Ashford in a sterile courthouse ceremony that lasted all of eight minutes and felt like a business transaction. Three years since I signed a document that bound me to a man I thought I hated, bound by a dead man’s ridiculous conditions and my own desperate need to give my sister the education I couldn’t afford otherwise. Three years since I walked out of that building wondering what kind of prison I’d entered, never imagining it would become my sanctuary.

Stepping out onto the deck, the morning air at the lake house smells like pine and cool, damp earth, the breeze carrying the faintest hint of woodsmoke from somewhere across the lake. Staring over the water, the early light casting a golden hue across the rippling surface, I find myself rubbing my rings—the simple platinum band from our ceremony and the large, emerald-cut diamond one Vance bought the day after I came home. It’s a nervous habit I thought I’d outgrown.

“Mommy!”

I turn at the sound of Romy’s voice, bright and demanding. She’s tearing across the deck in pink pajamas, her dark curls bouncing with every step, her chubby toddler legs carrying her faster than they probably should. Vance follows behind her, his long strides unhurried, his eyes fixed on our daughter with the kind of devotion that still takes my breath away.

“Careful,” he calls out, a rare, unguarded smile—the one he saves for us—pulling at the corners of his lips.