Chapter 40 #3
“No, you’re not. You get off on this shit, don’t you?
I bet you’re fucking dripping like the little whore you are.
” Without waiting for a response, he tugs my bra down, exposing my bare breasts to the camera and holding them up in offering before taking my right nipple between his fingers, pinching it like he’s trying to prove he owns them.
The mix of pain and pleasure causes me to cry out, back arching into his touch as nonsensical pleas spills from my lips. Through hazy eyes, I scan the chat.
JimsCuntDestroyer: Harder, I want her tits to be red raw.
CometoDaddy: Babygirl has been naughty, time to make her sorry.
Watching the chat and tips scroll by almost distracts me from Matt’s punishing grip, but then he lets go, and all the blood rushes back to my sensitive nipples, drawing a guttural moan from me before he shoves two gloved fingers past my lips, muffling my shocked gasp as he uses his other hand to spank my covered pussy.
“I think it’s past time you showed us exactly what we’re paying for.” His muffled words are for my ears only. Then his hands are gone, and with a parting order not to move, he stands and sheds his jeans and boxers, thankfully listening to reason and keeping his shirt on.
Jesus. The sight of him naked—or even half naked—will never not affect me.
His shirt clings to his chest, outlining the muscle beneath in a way that makes my mouth go dry. The black-and-grey realism tattoos scattered along his arms blur under the lights, indistinct unless you know them by heart.
I do.
I’ve watched him add them one by one over the years—skulls and flowers spilling down his arms, snakes threaded through runes, and a spiderweb that still makes me shudder if I let my eyes linger too long.
His body tells the story of hours spent in the gym, discipline carved into every line and watching his hard cock as he crosses the room has my empty pussy clenching in sharp, needy anticipation.
“Now, where to start,” he muses, looking way too comfortable being naked in front of the camera.
“Should I teach her how to use that slutty mouth or stretch her cunt out first?”
He glances at the chat, a dark laugh rumbling from his chest before his gaze locks on me again. There’s heat there, and challenge, and something possessive enough to make my pulse trip as he circles my bed.
Then he crooks a finger. “Come here.”
The words aren’t loud, but they carry. A command dressed as an invitation.
My body obeys before my mind catches up. I crawl across my bed, knowing the camera will pick up on every sway of my hips as I make my way to him. Kneeling at the edge of the bed in front of him, my pulse is pounding as I wait to see what the chat voted for.
“See?” he croons. “That wasn’t so hard. Now, be a good girl and lie down on your back. I want that pretty face hanging over the side of the bed looking up at me.”
The praise hits harder than it should. The camera fades from awareness, the rest of the world slipping away until it’s just us—his voice, my heartbeat, and the unspoken promise hanging between us, sharp enough to burn.
“Good fucking girl, see how easy that was? Now open wide for Daddy.”
My jaw parts before I can even think about it, caught too deep in his spell to do anything but obey.
Following his orders hushes the constant noise in my head; for once, everything stills.
The moment I give myself over to him, the chaos fades, replaced by a kind of blissful silence I didn’t know I craved.
I can’t take my eyes off him. Seeing him tower above me, hard cock curving up towards his stomach, it’s a sight to behold. The next thing I know, he’s shoving two fingers inside my mouth, as he grips my throat. A gargled moan tries to slip out past his fingers.
“Horny little thing. You’ll take anything I give you, won’t you?” he muses, looking down at me. I don’t need to see him unmasked to know he’s smirking right now as he makes me gag around his fingers.
“Think you can take more for me, baby?” Before I can answer, he uses his fingers to hold my mouth open, steps forward, and slips his dick inside my mouth, and any hope of forming words is long gone.
All I can do is moan as he brutally fucks my throat like it’s my pussy and uses his grip on my throat to squeeze himself.
“Fuckkk, that feels good. Yes, just like that. Get Daddy’s cock nice and wet, that's my good little slut.” His groans fill the air, heightening my arousal by the second. As his thrusts pick up speed, so does the praise spilling from his mouth.
“You’re so fucking perfect, sweetheart. Look at how well you take me.
This is what you needed, isn’t it? Daddy’s big, thick cock to fuck the bratiness right out of your system.
Be my good girl, swallow me down. Mhm, that’s it.
” Unable to resist any longer, I reach down to circle my clit.
Dipping two fingers inside my pussy, my eyes roll back at how wet I am.
There’s probably a damp mark beneath my hips, but I don’t care. All that matters is making Matt lose control. I want him destroyed, stripped of that careful composure he hides behind. I want to push him past the edge, to watch the moment his restraint shatters and the real him breaks through.
“You want my cum, don’t you? A greedy little whore like you always wants more,” he spits out between clenched teeth. “Too bad. I have plans for my cum, and it doesn't involve your mouth.”
With one last, ragged groan, he pulls back. His gaze sharpens behind the mask when it lands on my hand. A low growl slips out as he catches my wrist, draws it to his mouth, and holds my eyes while he licks my damp fingers clean.
Holy. Shit.
“You know, I was going to eat your cunt to get you ready for my cock. But if you can't keep your hands off your slutty pussy, you must be desperate. Practically gagging for it, aren't you? In that case, turn around. Face down, ass up, like a good whore.” His orders come fast and furious, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s truly pissed.
But one look at his weeping cock, and the way his hands are twitching at his side tells me all I need to know. He’s just too needy to wait a second longer, and who am I to judge when I feel the same?
Following his directions, I tilt my head so I can see the camera and the sight of us, the taboo of letting my stepbrother fuck me on camera… it gets me hotter than it should do. The steady chime of tips and messages flashes across the screen, feeding the rush beneath my skin.
“Well, are you going to look all night or are you going to fuck me?” I challenge, shifting my knees further apart, knowing exactly what kind of view that's offering him. The tiniest slice of lavender fabric pulled tight between my ass cheeks, dripping core inches from being exposed.
“Fucking impatient little slut,” he mutters, but there’s no heat behind his words.
If anything, his tone is fond as he takes hold of my ass, spreading my cheeks open, thumb hooking my underwear to the side.
A shocked whimper leaves me as he spits on my asshole, only to turn into a moan as I feel his thumb there.
Working his way inside, while notching the head of his cock at my entrance.
“Look at the camera, sweetheart. Show your fans how cockdrunk you are,” he demands as he thrusts inside me, doing as he asks, a gasp leaves me at the sight of us.
I look positively wrecked, like a needy little slut being put in her place by the big bad masked man behind her.
It’s goddamn erotic. I’d pay a small fortune to have this moment framed on my walls.
“Please, Daddy. I need more,” I groan, reaching underneath me to squeeze my tits, trying desperately to relieve some of the ache building there.
With a curse, he takes his thumb out of my ass in favour of fisting my hair, dragging my upper body off the bed until my back is flush with his covered chest.
“These are my perfect tits, my tight little cunt and ass. No one else touches them, not even you. Got it?” His gritted out words are followed up by him using his clean hand to spank my pussy and pulling on my hair until all I can do is moan and grind back against him.
“Words, baby. Use them,” he growls, breath hot against my ear.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. They’re all yours, I’m just a needy little brat.
Please, I need—” My words are cut off by him using his grip on my hair to shove my face down into the mattress.
With one hand braced beside my head, his cock pummels in and out of me, merciless as he fucks me into the mattress like it’s his calling in life.
Every time he pulls out, until just his thick head is notched at my entrance, makes me want to scream, knowing that in the next instant I’m going to be brutally filled. But I don’t.
I take it all, every single one of his punishing thrusts like a good girl. I urge him on with the slow grind of my hips, my whimpers and pleas for more, even as I think more might just kill me.
“Good girl,” he grunts. “Take it. Take my cock like a good little slut. Show me, show them how well you can take a fat cock.”
“Daddy, I’m gonna—”
“That’s it. Come all over my cock, soak me. Mark me as yours,” he grits. “Fucking hell, you’re like a vice around me. That’s my good fucking girl.”
With a sob, I do just that, body arching of the bed, pussy clamping down around him as my legs shake and my head goes fuzzy with my climax.
“Is this what you wanted?” I pant, turning so I can see the camera again. The chat is going insane, my tip jar higher than I’ve ever seen it.
“God yes,” he groans. “Such a perfectly slutty pussy. I can’t get enough. I might just have to tie you to this bed and never let you leave.”
Holy shit. The threats could just be dirty talk, but it feels too real, too raw to be anything but a promise. A promise I want him to keep.
“Tell me I can keep you.” His voice is a low, broken whimper, meant for me alone.
I reach for his hand, still bracing his weight beside my head, and thread my fingers through his.
The cool metal of his ring bites against my skin, sharp and familiar, sends a shiver through me.
He never took it off, even as he was cursing my name and moving to Turin, and that truth ignites something feral beneath my ribs.
I squeeze his hand, holding on, aching for him even as he’s still inside me, every inch of me trembling. My body betrays me, alight with want, even as my heart breaks beneath him, raw and exposed. I’m falling apart, and yet I’d hold this moment forever if I could.
“Keep me, use me. Show me who owns me, Daddy,” I rasp, hyperaware of the cameras on us.
With a curse, the pace of his hips becomes bruising, like he’s trying to split me open and meld us together permanently.
I take it while moaning, telling him how much I love it, how I want more, how he’s the best I’ve ever had.
“Pussy so good, I never want this to end.”
“Please Daddy, I want your cum. I want it so bad, I need it. Need it deep inside me, so deep it can’t spill out. Please.” My begging sets him off, and with a curse, he comes deep inside my body, taking me right over that edge with him.
As the warmth of his cum deep inside me mixes with the feeling of his sweaty shirt against my back sinks in, I think to myself I could stay here forever.
He shifts slightly, sliding off me, and I feel the cool emptiness where he was, my body still shaking with my comedown. Before I can move, he’s at the tripod, hands deftly shutting down the camera. The soft click of it powering off makes the room feel suddenly private, almost sacred.
I roll onto my back, trying to catch my breath, a small, satisfied ache settling low in me. My body wants to move, to shift, to follow him, but before I can, his voice cuts through softly, but firmly.
“Stay still.”
I glance up, and he’s already gone, disappearing into the other room. My pulse hammers in my ears as I wait, muscles tense and wanting, my skin still alive from him. Moments later, he returns, a damp towel in his hand.
He kneels beside me, eyes dark and unreadable, the kind of look that makes my chest tighten and my pulse stutter.
Without a word, he leans down, pressing the cool cloth to my skin, tracing over me with deliberate care.
Every touch is slow, intimate, claiming, even after everything that just happened.
I shiver, part from lingering desire, part from the quiet intensity of him, the way he takes care of me without asking, without needing permission. My fingers find his, lacing through them, holding on like I never want to let go.
Then he leans closer, his breath hot against my ear, “You’re my past, my present, my fucking forever. I’m done letting them keep us apart. Done standing aside when I should be fighting. We are endgame, baby. We always have been.”
Something inside me shifts. The weight I’ve carried for months, the doubt, the fear, the distance, it all melts away in the heat of his certainty. For the first time, I feel it—unshakable, unbreakable, ours.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, heart pounding, eyes brimming, and I know, in a way I’ve never known before, that nothing—not the past, not anyone else, not even the world itself—could ever pull us apart again.