Mafia Daddies Between My Thighs

Chapter 7: Chapter SEVEN

ANGEL

I probably should have turned around and left, but when had I ever walked away? I was a sick fucking masochist. I loved torturing myself like this—standing in the dark, watching something that belonged to me being ruined by someone else.

This wasn’t the first time I’d secretly spied on Vincenzo in sexual situations. That was exactly how I knew how massive his cock was, how thick and beautifully crafted it was for a woman’s ultimate pleasure.

Jillian’s sloppy tongue trailed along those hot, bulging veins, smooching down his length and leaving a glistening, wet trail of spit behind.

Vincenzo let out a low, heavy grunt of satisfaction, his head tilting back as his fingers tangled tightly in Jillian’s hair. The thick veins on his tattooed forearm flexed, straining against his skin.

”No teasing,” he growled. His deep voice—smooth and heavy like undiluted whiskey—jolted straight to my pussy.

My clit was still sore and sensitive from the aftermath of yesterday’s forced climax with Damien, but right now? I could feel a fresh surge of hot arousal slicking between my thighs. My nipples hardened violently against the lace of my bra, straining against the red fabric of my dress as my breasts grew heavy and achey.

I wanted to swallow Vincenzo’s cock, too.

If it were me kneeling on the floor in front of him, I wouldn’t dare tease him. I’d do my absolute best to worship that cock the way he deserved. I’d let him use my mouth like his personal fucking toy, pounding his thick length down my throat until he shot his hot, sticky cum down my willing neck. I’d swallow every single drop like the filthy little cum dumpster I craved to be for him.

For a second, the image shifted. It wasn’t Jillian being dominated by Vincenzo’s massive length—it was me.

It was my lips stretching obscenely around his cock, struggling to fit his impossible size into my small mouth. I opened wider, wider until my jaw throbbed with pain, because I was his dirty little pleasure doll. It was my saliva gleaming down his shaft, dripping off my chin as I hollowed my cheeks, sucking him deeper with a filthy, wet gagging noise. My throat stretched to accommodate him like a tight glove, feeling every thick, throbbing vein pulse against my tongue.

Jillian choked loudly, spluttering and coughing, abruptly shattering my illusion.

Of course. It was just a fantasy.

Never real. Never me.

I watched as Vincenzo’s thick fingers twisted tighter in her hair, guiding her, brutally forcing her to take him all the way to the root. Jillian’s throat bulged, tears welling in the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t dare pull back. She just whimpered around his shaft, bobbing her head faster like a desperate, starving slut.

That should be me.

Fuck knows I was a thousand times more desperate for it. My slick slit clenched and unclenched around empty air, the coffee mug growing heavy and lukewarm in my trembling palms as my breath came in short, ragged gasps.

The wet, disgusting sucking noises and the sounds of Jillian choking sent a wave of bitter, poisonous jealousy coiling straight through my gut.

She finally pulled off his shaft with a loud, lewd pop, thick strings of spit stretching between her painted lips and the glistening, dark head of Vincenzo’s fully erect penis.

”Do you like that?” she smirked up at him, a trail of saliva dribbling down her chin.

”Get back to sucking,” Vincenzo ordered roughly, spreading his heavy thighs further apart to give her full access.

Jillian ducked her head lower, nuzzling his heavy, tattooed balls.

”Fuck... suck on them,” Vincenzo growled. She obeyed instantly, parting her lips to take one heavy testicle into her mouth, sucking gently before letting it pop free with a wet slide.

Her manicured fingers stroked his shaft, smearing his own pre-cum all the way down his length.

”You love this fucking dick, don’t you?” Vincenzo demanded, and Jillian let out a soft, breathy laugh.

”I want to suck it all day and never stop,” Jillian purred, her tone dripping with filth. ”Your cock is the best thing I’ve ever owned. Let me please you—I’ll show you how much I love it.”

”More sucking, less talking,” Vincenzo hummed, pressing his palm onto the back of her head.

If only Vincenzo had looked toward the doorway—just once—he would have seen that someone else loved his fucking dick so much more. Way more than this plastic, manipulative whore ever could.

Jillian moaned around his length, lapping at his balls with broad, sloppy strokes. ”Your cock tastes the absolute best, Daddy...”

No.

The word hit my ears like a physical slap, making my entire body go rigid.

What the fuck did she just call him?

Maybe I’d misheard. I had to have misheard. Because that word belonged to me. Only me!

”Call me that again, and Daddy will pound your head into the floor so hard you won’t speak for a week. Say it!” Vincenzo growled, his voice dark, feral, and commanding.

Jillian looked up at him through her lashes, teasingly purring, ”Daddy...”

She barely got the word out before Vincenzo clamped his fist into her hair, yanking her forward and plunging his cock straight down her throat with a brutal, unforgiving thrust. His hips snapped rhythmically into her face—relentless, merciless, savage.

The wet, muffled sounds of gagging echoed through the doorway. Jillian’s nose was buried against his pelvis, her eyes watering, her cheeks flushed bright red as he used her mouth like a sheath.

My skin felt like it was on fire. Pure, unfiltered rage consumed me.

How could he do this? How could he betray me like this?!

He’d just commanded someone else to call him the one name that was strictly reserved for me. He just handed Jillian the right to call him Daddy... so where the fuck did that leave me?

With nothing.

Hot, furious tears scorched my eyes. I tried to blink them back, but they spilled over my lashes, tracking down my heated cheeks.

I took a quiet step back. Then another. I couldn’t watch this disgusting show for another second.

Then, Jillian’s eyes flicked to the side.

Her gaze stopped. Directly on me.

Our eyes locked through the narrow crack in the door.

My breath hitched in my chest. She didn’t look away, and neither did I.

One second passed. Then two.

Even while choking on Vincenzo’s massive length, I saw it clearly in her eyes: pure, triumphing malice.

She knew. She’d known I was standing there watching the entire time. She called him Daddy specifically to tear my heart out and stomp on it. To flaunt her ownership of the man I craved more than life itself.

”Take your eyes off me again and you get punished!” Vincenzo barked, thrusting hard into her mouth. Her eyes snapped back to him instantly.

But not before she threw one final, mocking look at me—and fucking winked.

She moaned and choked around him, taking him deeper, her nails digging into his thick thighs as she sucked like a starving animal.

The last thing I saw before I backed away was Jillian pulling off his length to spit directly onto his cock, the thick glob of her saliva sliding down his veined shaft.

I turned on my heel, but not before Vincenzo’s deep, dark voice echoed down the hall: ”Wanna swallow my cum, baby girl? Beg for it. Tell me you want my cum down your throat!”

I stumbled toward the grand staircase on trembling, weak legs, my fingers clenching around the cool porcelain of the coffee mug.

I couldn’t take this. I refused to tolerate it. Jillian was not going to steal my Daddy from me.

My chest heaved as I fought for air, my lungs burning, my blood boiling with a hatred so dense it felt like poison coursing through my veins.

I was furious at Vincenzo.

I was his baby girl. His little princess.

Not Jillian.

Me. Me. Me. Only me.

Had he forgotten everything?!

Did he forget how he used to hold me all night long when I screamed from nightmares about my parents’ blood on the floor? How he’d gently brush my hair back, rock me in his strong arms, and promise that as long as he was alive, nothing would ever hurt me again?

He was the sole reason I grew my hair long in the first place—because he loved running his big, tattooed hands through it to soothe my fears.

So why the fuck did he forget? Why was I suddenly invisible to him?!

I stared down into the dark liquid of the coffee mug, my reflection staring back—dilated pupils, messy hair, the face of a girl who had completely lost her fucking mind. My brain began calculating rapidly.

What would it take to get back into Vincenzo’s arms? To make him look at me with that fierce, terrifying protectiveness again?

I would do anything. I meant it. Anything.

I stopped right at the very edge of the top stair.

One second, I was standing upright... and the next, I deliberately let my ankle twist, allowing my weight to plunge forward.

The mug flew from my grip, shattering into a hundred sharp, ceramic shards as hot black coffee splashed across my red dress.

My body hit the wooden steps hard, tumbling down in a chaotic, violent mess of limbs. Pain exploded through my shoulder, my hips, my ribs—radiating across my entire body like a grenade going off.

I screamed at the top of my lungs. A sharp, blood-curdling screech of pure agony.

My vision swam, tears blinding me as my bruised body finally crumpled to a halt at the landing below. Pain throbbed in every nerve ending.

I laid there, barely able to breathe, and began to count in my head.

One...

Come to me, Daddy.

Two...

Your little girl needs you.

Three...

Camera rolling. Set...

And... Action.

”ANGEL!”

Vincenzo’s roared yell echoed through the mansion.

His voice was laced with violent terror. I could smell his fear from miles away, and a sudden, sick surge of satisfaction pooled deep in my lower stomach.

Heavy, frantic footsteps thundered down the hall.

A pair of massive, warm arms scooped my broken body up against a broad chest. His familiar, expensive cologne flooded my nose, and suddenly... the stinging bruises, the aching ribs, the severe burns from the coffee...

Every single bit of pain was worth it.

Cut.

Fade out.