The next night, the rain showed no signs of stopping. It poured down in steady sheets, isolating the mansion further from the outside world. Elena had spent the entire day trying to act normal—helping her mother with small chores, catching up on emails, and avoiding being alone with Marcus. But the tension followed her everywhere. Every time she passed him in the hallway or felt his eyes on her across the dinner table, her body remembered the kitchen.
Victoria had gone to bed early again, complaining of a headache from the storm. That left Elena and Marcus alone once more.
She found him in the living room this time, standing by the tall windows watching the rain. He wore a simple gray t-shirt and black sweatpants. The moment she entered, he turned, and the look in his eyes made her stomach flip.
“You’ve been avoiding me today,” he said quietly. It wasn’t an accusation—just a statement.
Elena hugged herself. “I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know what’s happening between us.”
Marcus crossed the room slowly, stopping just a foot away. “I do. And I think you do too.” He reached out and gently tilted her chin up. “Come here, baby girl.”
She stepped into his arms. The hug started innocent enough—his strong arms wrapping around her, holding her close. But as seconds passed, his hands began to roam. One stroked her back, the other slid lower, cupping her ass through her thin shorts and pulling her firmly against him. His cock was already half-hard, pressing thick and heavy against her belly.
“You feel that?” he murmured into her hair. “That’s what you do to me. Every time you call me Daddy. Every time you look at me like you need something only I can give you.”
Elena whimpered softly, her hands fisting in his shirt. “We shouldn’t…”
“But you want it.” His voice grew darker. “Tell the truth, Elena. Your pussy has been wet for me since you got home, hasn’t it?”
She nodded against his chest, ashamed and impossibly aroused.
Marcus walked her backward until her back met the wall beside the fireplace. The rain lashed the windows as he pinned her there with his body. One large hand slid down her stomach and into her shorts, cupping her mound over her panties. He groaned at how soaked the fabric already was.
“Fuck, baby girl. You’re dripping.”
He pushed her panties aside and dragged two thick fingers slowly through her slick folds. Elena gasped, legs trembling. He teased her entrance, circling her clit with maddening patience, coating his fingers in her arousal.
“Look at me,” he commanded softly.
She obeyed. His eyes were dark with lust as he finally pushed one thick finger inside her. Then a second. They stretched her perfectly, curling to stroke that sensitive spot on her front wall.
“Oh god…” she moaned, hips bucking against his hand.
Marcus leaned in, lips brushing her ear. “This tight little cunt is Daddy’s now. Do you understand? No more boys who don’t know how to touch you. This pussy belongs to me.”
He began pumping his fingers slowly, deliberately, his palm grinding against her swollen clit with every thrust. The wet, obscene sounds filled the quiet room. Elena clung to his shoulders, biting her lip to stay quiet.
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, the words sending a fresh gush of wetness over his hand.
“That’s my good girl.” He added a third finger, stretching her more, fucking her deeper. His other hand slipped under her shirt to cup one full breast, thumbing her hard nipple. “So fucking tight. So needy. You’re going to come for Daddy like this, aren’t you?”
Elena nodded frantically. The pleasure built fast and overwhelming. His fingers were relentless—thick, skilled, and completely in control. He kissed her neck, sucking lightly, marking her while his hand worked between her legs.
“Come,” he growled. “Come all over Daddy’s fingers. Let me feel this pussy squeeze for me.”
The orgasm hit her like a wave. Elena cried out into his shoulder, her walls clenching rhythmically around his invading fingers as intense pleasure ripped through her. Marcus held her through it, murmuring praise and filthy claims the entire time.
When she finally sagged against him, he slowly withdrew his fingers and brought them to her lips.
“Taste how wet you got for Daddy.”
She opened her mouth obediently, sucking his fingers clean while looking up at him with dazed eyes. The act felt incredibly dirty and intimate.
Marcus kissed her forehead, then her lips—soft at first, then deeper. His still-hard cock pressed insistently against her.
But he pulled back.
“Not tonight,” he said, voice strained with the effort. “Not all the way. Not yet. Go upstairs, baby girl. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Elena nodded, legs shaky as she adjusted her clothes. She paused at the doorway, looking back at him. Marcus stood there, fingers still glistening, watching her with raw hunger.
She went to bed knowing the line had been crossed.
And she already wanted him to cross it further.