Chapter 10
Touchscreen Confessions
Maddison was curled sideways on her sofa, oversized tank top slipping down one shoulder, thigh high socks clinging to her legs. Lip gloss smudged. Hair messy. Her phone balanced on her bare thigh while she scrolled.
Ding.
Her heart gave a stupid little kick when she saw the notification.
@helmetdaddy_xo:
Been busy, kitten. Didn’t mean to ghost you. Missed your mouth.
She laughed sharply, delighted. Typical. Arrogant. Filthy. And god, she loved it.
Her thumbs flew.
@booklover69:
well well well. Daddy finally remembers me. too bad I’ve moved on. jk. I’m literally wet. say something filthy.
He didn’t hesitate.
@helmetdaddy_xo:
Go into the bathroom. Lift your dress. Show me what I missed.
Her breath hitched. Heat pooled instantly low in her stomach.
Only if you’re gonna do something with it, she typed back.
She was already moving.
Bathroom light on. Phone propped against the mirror.
The tank top hit the tiles.
Her reflection stared back: soft curves, stretch marks, thighs pressed tight together like she was about to explode.
Click.
One pic. Then another.
The last one her hand sliding between her legs, hips arching into her own touch, eyes half lidded as her lips parted.
Caption:
Missed you too, daddy.
Sent.
The reply came fast.
@helmetdaddy_xo:
I’m fucking hard. I want your thighs around my face. I want to hear you cry for it. Take another one. Two fingers. Show me.
Her knees buckled. She actually moaned, alone in the bathroom. She obeyed. Phone in one hand. The other slipped inside, slow, deep. Filmed this time. Thirty seconds of filthy, raw need. Gasps of “daddy” spilling from her lips as she came too fast, too messy.
Send.
Silence.
Then:
@helmetdaddy_xo:
If I came to your apartment right now, would you let me fuck you? No lights. Just your sounds.
Her laugh was shaky, breathless, but wicked. She typed back:
@booklover69:
I’d ride your face until you cried for me again.
The next ding nearly wrecked her.
It wasn’t just a message. It was a picture.
Lucas. Flushed, shirtless, jaw tight. The phone angled down. His fist wrapped around his cock, thick and glistening, abs flexed mid orgasm. He was close too close. A masterpiece of ruin.
Message attached:
Look what you fucking do to me. Every time you open your mouth, every time you post, I lose it. Next time I want you on your knees. Tongue out. Throat open. Eyes locked.
Maddison bit her lip hard. Her body hummed like electricity.
She switched to her front camera. Leaned close, cleavage spilling, lip gloss smeared. Voice honey dripped filth:
“I’d do it,” she whispered. “I’d ruin you. I’d take every drop and beg for more.”
Her tongue slid across her bottom lip.
“You’re mine, Helmet Daddy. You just don’t know it yet.”
Wink.
Send.
Then she collapsed back against the tiles, grinning like a sinner in church.
***
Lucas sat in the basement, screen glow slicing across his face, cock still twitching in his hand.
He should’ve been panicking.
Should’ve deleted everything.
Should’ve shut it down.
But all he could think was
Oh fuck. She’s going to destroy me. And I want her to.
His thumb hovered over the newest voice note. He’d already played it three times.
He hit it again.
“You’re mine, helmetdaddy. You just don’t know it yet.”
Her voice. Low. Sultry. Confidence.
Undeniably Maddison.
The same voice that breezed into his office with a coffee and a smirk.
The same voice that whispered “black, two sugars” every morning like she owned him.
The same voice that had just moaned for him through a screen, loud enough to shake his bones.
Lucas froze.
Heart hammering, slow and violent, like it wanted out of his chest.
It was her.
Booklover69.
The one who had filled his inbox with filthy confessions, who wrote fantasies he’d saved in a locked folder like sacred texts. His number one fan. His obsession.
And she was here.
In his tower.
Sitting across his desk like she didn’t already own him.
“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair, pacing the floor like a caged animal.
She knew.
She had to know.
That teasing smirk.
Those glances that lingered.
The way she leaned over his desk like she dared him to snap.
Was she playing him?
Or worse, hunting him?
His cock throbbed again, betrayal written all over his body.
This wasn’t the plan. He was supposed to have control. The mask. The distance.
The power.
Instead?
Maddison Parker had him spiraling, every breath a confession, every thought hers.
And he couldn’t stop.