Page 1 of Daddy's Orders


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Prologue

Have I gone mad?

My name is Emily Marone, and I’m caught in a dangerous web of desire and deceit.

A long tattooed finger slid inside my pussy.

Agonizing pleasure radiated from my clit to the rest of my body.

His lips, slightly rough, sucked my nipples firmly, sending both pleasure and pain through my body. A stark contrast to the softness I'd imagined my first time would feel like.

Here I was in an unnervingly precarious situation, sharing the intimate confines of a bedroom aboard a luxurious private jet, hurtling through the skies towards the secretive allure of a private island.

I asked him to take my virginity. The question was why?

This man was my father's nemesis, and now, here I was, a pawn in their longstanding feud.

This was more than a physical conquest; it was a psychological battle against my father, and ultimately me.

The sensation of his touch was new and frighteningly intense.

Waves of nervous excitement mixed with a deep-seated fear rippled through me.

I knew what was happening physically, but the emotional turmoil was harder to grasp. I was inexperienced, a virgin caught in a game far bigger than a fleeting encounter.

His thumb brushed tentatively over my clit as he probed gently.

He was older, perhaps around my father's age.

I had to promptly push that thought out of my mind because... well..eww.

Regardless, Logan was teaching me a lesson about age – that with maturity came experience.

"Fuck, you’re wet; I need to taste you," he whispered.

He lowered himself until his face was right between my legs.

His tongue explored cautiously, clearly aware of my inexperience. My hands braced against the bed frame, my legs shaking not just with new sensations, but also with a deep fear of the unknown.

I ran my fingers through his hair, a futile attempt to find some control in this situation.

"Take me," I murmured.

He groaned like an animal ready to devour his prey.

He pulled his head back, and the loss of contact made me let out a desperate whimpering sound. His pause made me glance down. My innocence was evident in my reaction, a mix of confusion and curiosity.

His thumb continued to move slowly, almost reassuringly.

"Don’t worry baby girl. I'm going to make you come. You’re going to come so hard you'll scream. This I promise you. And when we’re done here, I’m going to take you to my island and have my way with you again and again.”

I was silent, my mind racing. This wasn't just about me; it was a message to my father.

And based on how good he was at foreplay, he was probably right about the screaming part. I didn’t trust myself to be quiet - and the fact we were smack dab situated on a plane with cabin crew - that would be a problem to say the least.

"I can’t wait to drink your juices," he whispered, sliding two fingers into me this time, while his lips found another sensitive spot.

His fingers skillfully massaged my G-spot, triggering an intense reaction. Every part of me seemed to ignite with exhilarating pleasure.

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