Aria's POV
The morning air felt heavy, thick enough to choke me as I walked into the dining room. The table was already set, sunlight spilling across the plates. Richard sat at the head like he owned the world, his face unreadable but his eyes locked onto me the second I entered. Caleb sat opposite, shoulders relaxed, smirk tugging at his lips like he'd been waiting for me.
I tried to act normal, sliding into my chair, but the heat between them was unbearable. Their gazes burned holes into my skin, like they were both silently claiming me. My nipples hardened instantly beneath the thin camisole I'd worn, the peaks brushing against the fabric with every shaky breath I took.
Richard cleared his throat, his gaze dark. "Eat," he ordered softly.
I reached for the fork, but the moment I lifted it, a hand slid beneath the table. Richard's. His palm rested on my thigh, hot and commanding. My heart stuttered.
I froze.
His fingers squeezed, just enough to make my fork clatter against the plate. I swallowed hard, heat pooling between my thighs. His thumb began stroking slowly, lazily circling higher, brushing the edge of my shorts.
I bit my lip, trying to stay still. But Caleb's smirk only widened. He leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his palm, his eyes glittering with mock amusement. He knew exactly what was happening. And worse, he liked watching me squirm.
I pressed my legs together, clit throbbing painfully, my panties already damp. The silence stretched, my breathing shallow, the table suddenly too small to contain this twisted war.
Finally, I shoved back my chair. "Excuse me," I muttered, my voice trembling as I stood and left. My face burned under their stares, but I didn't dare look back.
---
By afternoon, I thought I'd escaped the madness. I'd been pacing in my room, scrolling through my phone, trying to calm the ache still pulsing low in my belly. That's when I heard a soft honk outside.
I peeked through the curtain. Caleb's car.
He leaned against the driver's door, arms folded, eyes locked on my window. My chest tightened. I should've ignored him. But my feet moved on their own.
The moment I slid into the passenger seat, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. He yanked me across the console until I straddled him, my knees pressed against the leather.
"Caleb—"
"Shut the fuck up," he growled, crashing his mouth onto mine. His kiss was brutal, claiming, his tongue plunging deep like he was trying to erase every trace of Richard from me.
Before I could breathe, his hand was between my thighs. He shoved my shorts aside, and two fingers buried themselves inside me.
"Ah—God!" I cried out, clinging to his shoulders. My pussy clenched tight around him, my slick coating his knuckles instantly.
"Look at you," he snarled against my lips, thrusting harder, faster, his thumb grinding mercilessly against my swollen clit. "Dripping for me. Don't you dare pretend you don't want this."
"Caleb, please—"
"Say it." He bit down on my lip, forcing my gaze to his. "Say you're mine."
"I—I'm yours," I whimpered, grinding down against his hand, my body betraying me completely.
"Louder."
"I'm yours, Caleb!"
The orgasm ripped through me violently, my legs trembling, windows fogging with every ragged gasp. My pussy gushed around his fingers, soaking him, soaking his jeans. He smirked, licking my release off his knuckles as if to brand me with his victory.
"You're already mine," he whispered, his voice a dangerous promise. "Even if you pretend otherwise."
---
That night, the house was quiet. Too quiet. I crept into the kitchen for water, trying to steady the storm inside me. My nipples were still tender, my clit raw and aching.
But before I could reach for a glass, I felt him. Richard.
He pressed against my back, chest solid, his breath warm against my neck.
"Couldn't sleep?" he murmured, his hand already sliding down my waist.
"Richard—"
"Shh." He bent me forward against the counter, my palms slapping the cold marble. My chest arched, nipples brushing the surface until they ached.
"You like sneaking around, don't you?" he whispered, his cock pressing against my ass. "You like being my filthy little secret."
My panties were tugged aside roughly. He slid his cock through my slick folds, teasing, making me whimper and tremble.
"Say it," he demanded, just the tip pushing into me.
"I—I like it," I gasped, shame curling in my gut.
His hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back as he slammed deeper. "Louder."
"I like it! I like being your secret!" I cried, my voice breaking.
His thrusts were relentless, slapping against my ass, filling me completely. His hand slid under me, fingers pinching my clit while he fucked me mercilessly. My legs buckled, my body shattering as an orgasm tore through me, squirting over his cock, soaking the counter.
"You're mine, Aria," he growled against my ear, biting down hard. "No matter what you do with him—you'll always crawl back to Daddy."
When it was over, I lay sprawled across the counter, ruined, dripping, my chest heaving.