Victor doesn’t carry me this time.
He grabs my wrist and drags me up the stairs, my bare feet stumbling on the carpet, c*m still leaking down my thighs from the wine cellar wreckage.
We reach the master bedroom—his bedroom—the one he shared with his late wife, the one where my fiancé was conceived.
The door slams shut behind us.
The room is huge: king bed with dark silk sheets, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the dark estate, moonlight pouring in.
Victor shoves me toward the bed.
“On your back,” he orders.
“Legs spread. Show Daddy what’s his tonight.
I scramble onto the silk, lie back, and open my thighs wide.
My p***y is swollen, red, dripping with his c*m and my juices, lips puffy and glistening.
He stands at the foot of the bed, stroking his c**k slow, eyes locked on my
