the world is beautiful and i am happy.

When Hannah, the manager’s assistant texted that they’re going through every floor with polite introductions, everyone in your office started shifting like debutants about to be picked up for marriage. Instinctively dragged into their buzz, you stuffed the rest of the cupcake into your mouth and quickly swiped any crumbs off your blouse. 

You were curious. Just that. Wondering how old and grumpy the stuffy representative would be. Or maybe they’d be a cutthroat, cold shark who clearly searches for weaknesses to weed out. Whoever they were, it could be telling of what awaited your workplace.

What you didn’t expect - what nobody expected - was a whole group to walk in with the current director. 

Four men. Each so much different from the other, they could as well come from not only different departments, but completely different businesses. 

At the front, a tall, dark blonde with neatly trimmed beard, dressed impeccably like a billionaire CEO might, with glasses atop his nose. Right next to him an even broader man, with thick beard and longer hair, who treated his suit casually - two buttons of his shirt undone, no tie. 

The other two Alphas were a step behind them, though didn’t appear to be any less sure of their power. One looking more like an old money advertisement model, with his neatly combed hair and clean shaven face; looking bored out of his mind. The other a cheeky blonde in biker leathers, with an easy, flirty smile. 

So different. Yet something about them spoke of unity. 

Your curious mind wanted to assess and find threads stitching them together. The answer came to you rather fast. So obvious, it was annoying you didn’t think of it on the spot. 

They were a pack. 

They mingled near the entrance at first, greeting the first few people, so you had quite a distance to take in all the details. But the longer you watched them, the more convinced you were they were Alphas. All four of them! 

It was rare. If a pack even had an Alpha, there was one, two at most. These four were like a new discovery in your tame world. Either their pack was a really big one, with ten people at least, or they were so intense no Beta or Omega lasted with them. 

The air in the office grew hotter. You felt drops of perspiration form at the back of your neck. Slowly, you breathed out through your mouth, attempting to slow the pace of your heart. 

You didn’t usually get nervous much, but maybe the prospect of standing in front of four Alphas at once was a little overwhelming for your Omega instincts. Eyes glued to them, you followed every move they made forward. Your heart rate increased as they shortened the distance.

They weren’t even that close to you when suddenly the blonde one turned his head, his eyes falling directly on you. 

That’s when you felt it fully. The prickle of a needle right through your heart, then a strong pull urging you to rush forward. Straight into his arms. 

He straightened, if that was even possible, becoming taller and bigger. Next to him, the other three Alphas followed suit, each gaze landing on you. Drilling through you. 

“No,” you muttered under your breath, “no, no, no, no.” 

You couldn’t see how the rest of the office acted. If they even noticed what was going on. The director seemed to cluelessly follow the other Alphas as they changed their route and strode towards you. 

You were smart, you knew what was happening. Even though you never expected it in your life. For years you convinced yourself you would never actually want it to happen!

As wonderful the tales and movie plots made it look, reality wasn’t as easy. It could be lovely, if someone gave themselves a chance to simply form connections and fall in love without waiting for the magic click. Because that click was a rarity, even if so many hoped for it.

Packs formed from friends; pairs deciding to bond together for the sole reason of satisfying that primal instinct to have a pack. Family was the first form of a pack one got to grow up in, then it all depended on connections made and risks taken. 

What people dreamt of, however, was the natural matebond. 

That moment when you feel the undeniable pull toward certain people and once it locks into place there’s no power to leave it. Not without hurting yourself and your mates in the process. 

Honestly, it was quite scary, if you looked at it critically. 

What if that matebond snapped into place for a group of really awful people? What if one of them was an Alpha and your Omega instincts would go haywire, overriding your senses and changing you from an independent woman into a helpless, dumb doll?

You tried not to exaggerate, but you knew a few Omegas who joined a pack with an Alpha in the structure and the change was visible. They didn’t seem to mind, beaming like lunatics as they talked about cooking meals and getting pregnant, but it rang alarm bells for you. 

Maybe you spent too many years being on your own. There was an attempt to start a pack with your former partner, a calm Beta, Nick, but your relationship simply dissolved. Without hate and regrets. From what you knew, he was now happily mated into a small pack of three Betas and two Alphas. 

You were happy on your own. 

With an attachment to your family pack, you learned to sate that need for pack time with regular visits and hugs. Otherwise, you found joy in your life. Not just contentment, though you knew many silently judged you for it, pitying you for what they thought was lying to yourself. Many considered a woman your age as way past the time to become a part of a pack, so you should take whatever was offered. 

At nearly forty, you didn’t care for their opinion. Nor did you entertain foolish dreams of one day bumping into a matebond and having your life flipped upside down. 

So when it happened, you felt dread as hundreds of awful outcomes came to your mind. 

You had to brave through it, you thought. Spine of steel, polite smile, and a reasonable refusal. 

These four were businessmen, they dealt with data and risk analysis on a daily basis. Surely, it wouldn’t be hard to convince them there was nothing to explore with you, despite some inner instinct calling out to follow it. 

“Gentlemen.” You greeted them when the director introduced you. 

Right after introducing you, he took a step back, which was enough indication that others realized what was happening. Maybe they didn’t know it for sure, but could suspect it. And stare in wonder, since not everyone got a chance to see matebonds in real life. 

“I’m sure you will trust in our current employees and appreciate the work they already do.” You opted for redirecting any thoughts they might have towards the actual reason for their visit.

After all, they came here to oversee their new business. Not for you. It would be for the best to keep it at that. Best for you and your comfortable, independent life. Best for them and whatever grandiose life they led. 

“Steve.” The blonde one trusted his hand for you to take. “You call me Steve.”

“Mister Rogers.” You deliberately used the last name with which the director introduced him to you. 

Though your voice quivered as his fingers enclosed around yours, a wave of warmth and excitement skipping through the nerve endings in your body.

“We got a stubborn one,” the one introduced as Ari Levinson grinned. 

“I am driven when it comes to work. Some could call it stubborn, I guess,” you smiled politely. 

Don’t fall for the inviting smile and so many muscles to explore!, you reprimanded yourself inwardly. 

“Why bother playing it professional when all your coworkers are already ogling us like a spectacle, suspecting we’re matebonds that just found each other?” Ransom tilted his head slightly. 

You watched him take a step to the side, coming a little closer from your left. A minor move, all within the boundaries of respectable space. At a first glance. But your senses sharpened, attuned to them more than you ever did your surroundings. 

That’s when you realized Ari was already flanking your right. Judging by the smooth, stealthy moves of the youngest one, Johnny, he was about to circle around Ransom and come nearer your back. Though still seemingly leaving you space.

With Steve in front of you, a warm wall of muscle and calm determination, you recognized their tricky attempt to have you caught between them. 

Their intent didn’t appear malicious, rather driven by instinct. Perhaps they sensed your plan to cut them out and flee from the clutches of the uninvited bond. Or, maybe, it was their own need to get to you as close as possible. 

“Office workers love gossip.” You shrugged. “And I am a professional. Which is why we should postpone the conversation regarding this unexpected development.” 

You swiped your gaze over each of them before settling on the Alpha in front of you. Not knowing how their dynamic worked, if it was balanced between all four, or if one took a marginal lead, you simply chose the one right in front of you.

“Continue with your agenda of the day, as I will with my work. I finish at four. There’s a nice place nearby called Buttery. We can meet there and talk about this inconvenience over food.” 

“Inconvenience.” Steve repeated the word, his blue eyes darkening slightly. 

But he didn’t argue with you right away. Didn’t snarl. It struck you suddenly that you didn’t fear him being angry with you for disregarding the matebond, but felt heavy for potentially disappointing him.

Which was, in your eyes, another proof that this whole matebond needed to be snuffed before it developed further. 

“Alright.” He nodded, eyes not once leaving your face. “We’ll be there.”

It was hard to look away from him, but you forced yourself to drop your gaze and quickly retreated back and right into the small office you had in the right corner of the floor. Locking yourself within the glass walls didn’t help much, as it didn’t make the yearning in your chest go away. 

You rubbed at your chest, willing away the pitiful patter of your heart, as well the sudden cold that seemed to brush over your skin without the Alphas overwhelming presence.

Grabbing your personal calendar, you sat down at your desk and started scribbling down potential solutions to the sudden problem, preparing yourself for that dinner meeting as if it was a business negotiation. 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ 

“She’s like a deer in headlights and you just let her run away.” Ransom frowned, glaring at the door behind which you disappeared. 

It irked him that you removed yourself from their space so quickly. Annoyed him even more that he still felt someone’s eyes on his own ass. As if he’d be interested in anyone when he was bonded. 

Beside him, Steve was composed, but the vibration of his barely contained need to rush after you and claim you were pulsing in waves.

“She’s an Omega who just got matebonded to four Alphas. At once.” Steve pointed out, not the least bothered by his packmate’s displeasure. “We can’t fully rip her out of her comfort zone, even if it gives her time to strategize on putting up defences.”

“She’s gonna fight it, isn’t she?” Ari’s mouth curved in a smile. 

He kind of liked the idea of having to work for you to melt into them, to come up with ways to sweep you off your feet. There were some that came to mind right away when he watched you saunter in those tight pants and flowy blouse.

“Most likely.” Steve gave him a knowing look. “And we’re going to push back.”

“How hard?” Ransom perked up at that. 

He wasn’t very patient. In some areas, he could delay, but bonding was a sensitive sphere for him. The need to cut himself off from his family as much as he could and build a pack of his own, one where he wasn’t treated like the worst pest and burden, was boiling in his veins. 

Ari squeezed his shoulder in a short comfort. 

“Depending on how far she tries to run with her denial.” Steve turned to them, face set with that determination he had a few seconds from deciding on a masterplan. 

“Which is why you’re going to get all her private information, Johnny. Address, if she drives a car, social media. Don’t overstep with the family. Ran, deal with that Buttery place. We don’t need loud chaos and snooping when approaching the topic.”

“Ari, contact the designer. Have the corner guest bedroom ready for an Omega. Two weeks tops.” 

“You’re going to deal with the boss?” Ari asked him in return. 

“Not yet.” Steve shook his head. “We don’t know her career plans. Maybe she really likes it here, then there’s no point in taking that away from her. If that’s the case, we’ll take it to the HR and PR on how to approach the fact a mid level worker is matebonded to the owners of the company.” 

He had a suspicion you’d claim to love your work, even if that wasn’t true, only to avoid changing anything more in your life. Or to avoid discovering you might want to do something else entirely, which they could make happen. 

It was a new territory. For all of the Alphas. 

When the bond snapped into place as each of them met, they had no need to fight it. Each for their own reasons. 

Ransom might’ve been the most distrustful at first, but he leaned on the gains, which let him open up to fully form deep bonds with each of them. Johnny never fought it in any way. Ari took everything in stride, as well. Steve… he could never step away from responsibility. 

It all started when he dropped his fork and slipped under the table to retrieve it. To your surprise, he found more interest in the shortness of your dress, and being crouched between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your pink cotton panties. 

Lloyd couldn’t control himself, he needed to touch you. 

Also, today's lesson was on staying quiet and subtle: “college kids will fuck anywhere, you need to learn to keep those pretty lips shut and not be so obvious.” 

These lessons started at the beginning of the summer after one night of too much wine. To your stepfather’s best friend, you confessed your sexual inexperience and the itching worry of being unlike the rest of your peers. 

He simply brushed over your core, and you choked on a gasp before your lovely stepfather left to refill the pitcher of water. Lloyd took that opportunity to pry your thighs apart and sloppily mouth over your clothed cunt, groaning heavily against you. 

The older man sucked on your clit, flicking the bundle with his tongue and soaking the cotton in salvia before tearing off your panties and returning to his seat. That was just in time for Ari to rush back with the full pitcher. 

For however long, he’s been working you with his fingers. A numbing combination of teasing and overstimulation tearing you apart like petals from a delicate flower. Your delicate flower. 

Surging forward for another piece of bread, you shove it into your mouth. The dull ache in your jaw goes ignored because this was the only way to shut up—Lloyd didn’t give you a break or even a breathier. 

The older brunet scoots closer, it’s barely noticeable and it gets him a better angle on your cunt. He tries to slip a third finger alongside the rest, prodding at your already-full hole, but you’re too tight and too small for his thick digits. Lloyd settles for sliding in deep and rubbing your sore clit with his palm, curling his long fingers against that little rough patch inside you with ease. 

He slows down as he tells a story of his recent travels, or his recent date—god, you don’t know. You can barely think with his thick digits scissoring you open, tracing up your slit to your clit to rub it in hard circles. He pulls back a few inches, then swings forward with a swift slap on your warmth, making your knee slam into the table. 

Your stepfather looks over with wide eyes, “Woah, slow down, honey. You might choke.” He chuckles, refilling your glass of water, “drink something before your mouth dries out.” 

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nod. 

Lloyd has a sick smirk on his face as he lightly spanks your pussy, it isn’t as hard as the first time but it sends the same shocks through your body. 

Ari runs a hand through his long brown hair, “Sweetie, have you told Lloyd about being accepted to your dream college?”  

A squeaky reply is all the men get, your stomach tensing all over again as Lloyd teasingly fucks you with his pinky. The cool metal of his ring presses against your heat, and you want nothing more than to rock against his hand, begging him to just force a third finger into you. 

“Oh really!” He feigns surprise, his moustache twitching as he grins, “well, aren’t you a smart cookie—soon enough, you’ll be even richer than me.”

Ari smiles brightly, “I’m very proud of her, she’s such a good girl. After her year off and with her mother absent so often, you’d think she’d act up or have an attitude, but no. This little one is an angel, never even curses.”

Lloyd knows that, he also knows that you turn into a flustered mess when you attempt dirty talk. The most he ever got from you was a weak, “want y-your mouth on me—down there please, daddy.” 

“Silly girl, you’ve got crumbs on your face, c’mere.” 

Your eyes widen when Ari leans over the table, gently pinching your chin to wipe around your lips. A loud thumping fills your head in the same rhythm as your heart, it clouds your senses as fear courses through your veins. One glance over the edge, and Ari would see his best friend knuckle deep in your pussy, slowly working his ring finger alongside his pinky. 

With stiff bones, you clench your thighs and trap Lloyd’s hand when he tries to pick up the pace—you knew he had a thing for secrecy and the thrill, but it was like he wanted you to come again right now, to get caught. 

After what seemed like hours, Ari finally retreats. When he sits back down, he knocks over a spoon and it loudly clatters to the floor. 

“Aw, shit—” Ari huffs and looks around. “I think it went under the table.” 

“I’ll get it!” You slap a hand over your mouth, and embarrassment blooms as their clear blue eyes land on you, “sorry, um, I’ll get it for you.” 

“It’s okay, I’m not so old that I can’t bend down anymore.” Your stepfather laughs, wiping his hands and pushing out of his chair. 

All oxygen is yanked from your lungs as you try to swat away Lloyd’s hand, but he took advantage of your flustered state and pried your thighs open again. Ruthlessly fingering your weepy cunt, stretching you open as you desperately try to cross your legs. 

You watch horrified as your stepfather disappears under the table, and your shaky hands clutch your dress, hoping to conceal at least a pinch of your modesty. 

Nothing happens. 

“A-Ari?”

It’s quiet for a few moments before a breath fans across your wet core. “I still can’t believe you couldn’t hold back from someone this once. Like really, my stepdaughter?”

A warm hand slides up your thigh, forcing your legs further apart, this time wide enough to fit a tall, muscular 6’7” man. 

Next to you, Lloyd shrugs. “What can I say? When she said how worried she was about being inexperienced, I had to offer my expertise.” 

Realization hits you like ice water, shocking you to the core. You’re limp as they easily manhandle you, making you lean against the back of the chair and slide closer to the edge. You feel like a doll as Ari tugs off your socks, slowly kissing up your calf to your knee, then switching to the other leg for the same treatment. His beard is rough against your skin, tickling you when he trails to your inner thighs. 

You almost forgot Lloyd was keeping you plugged up with his skilled fingers. 

Ari’s hair falls in front of his forehead as he looks up, licking his lips as if he’s leering at a full course meal, “I guess that means I should finally join too. Need to know what all the fuss is about.” Ari mutters, massaging the flesh inches from your soppy cunt, “What’s this lesson?”

Lloyd resumes his thrusts, disgusting wet noises making it all too obvious how much you were enjoying this—crossing the forbidden bridge, betraying your mother and diving headfirst into something you don’t even know. Tears start to well in your eyes, from pleasure and shame. 

“Aw, sweetheart, did you think your stepdaddy didn’t know anything?” Lloyd pouts at you, his hand tracing up and down your slit, from your clit to your creamy hole, “He knows everything. He knows that you rode my thigh, sucked my cock by the pool—oh, and he knows that you want to try anal this summer.”

You’re mortified as Ari chuckles, “I didn’t think you had it in you, baby. Always thought you were my sweet, innocent little girl—now I know you’re just a clueless slut who likes older men.”

The other brunet brings his hand to your face, showing you the strings of arousal webbed between his knuckles. “What a pretty crying face,” He watches the tears trail down your cheeks, and he restrains himself from licking them, “I’m sorry, pumpkin. I had to tell him, that’s what best friends do.” His eyes shine wickedly, “You're his little girl, he has the right to know what I’m doing to his stepdaughter.”

Ari leans close, the tip of his tongue following the traces of your last orgasm until he’s close enough to only smell you, nothing else. “Can you tell me what Lloyd is teaching you today, honey?”

Excitement drips out of you and down your puckered hole, creating a mess under your ass. You’re caught between humiliation and striking anticipation, but most of all, you’re confused—what do you do? What are you supposed to do in this situation?

“I asked you a question, baby. Unless Lloyd already fucked you stupid with just his fingers. Did he stretch your untouched cunt so good that you can’t even speak anymore?”

You helplessly nod, bottom lip wobbling as you slowly grind against the air, “Was s-supposed to keep quiet, not be obvious.”

Ari pins you down again, “Well, you need more practice on that. Almost bent you over the table after watching you come.” He spreads your sticky folds to examine your most sensitive spot. “Bad girl, you aren’t supposed to like this. Aren’t virgins supposed to be pure, not lifting their dresses for men twice their age.”

Lloyd laughs, “your little girl isn’t a virgin anymore, daddy.”

Your stepfather stiffens, head snapping up to shoot daggers to his friend’s face. “You fucked her?” 

“Not me, some guy she met when she went to New York.” 

Ari’s glare lands on you, and you can feel it in your soul. The burning sensation of his dark, heated blue eyes sears through your skin, and erupts an uncontrollable blaze of humiliation and guilt. 

“Oops, did I forget to mention that?” Lloyd hums thoughtfully, the ghost of a mischievous smirk on his lips. “My bad, it must’ve slipped my mind.”

“Yeah, I bet it did.” Your stepfather’s tone is sharper than a knife. 

The beginnings of an apology are on the tip of your tongue—but Lloyd shoves his fingers in your mouth, making you gag and taste yourself. A pitiful whimper floats into the open air, fluttering to the same spot your “I’m sorry, Ari” would have. 

“She’s so cute when she wants to come, or when it’s too much. You should really hear her beg.” Lloyd reminisces of you moaning into his ear the other day when you were bouncing on his thigh in the gym. After watching him work out, he said you deserved another lesson for keeping quiet to your stepfather. 

Looking back, you felt proud of yourself, but now you feel tricked. Ari knew the whole time and you were the fool. And, he just got struck with the revelation that you aren’t a virgin. 

There was no telling what would come next. 

“Too bad she failed today’s lesson. I used to hook up with girls all over campus during my days. In the library, washroom, closets, even hallways if we couldn’t find somewhere.”

“I know, one of them was my ex.”

“Pfft, she was a four at best.” Lloyd turns his attention to you, dipping his hand back between your legs, now soaked with your spit, “But this pumpkin, she’ll be a real hit.” He smirks, “ain’t that right? You’ll show all the guys what we’re going to teach you?” 

You cry out when he swats your cunt, wet slaps fill the dining room as he repeats the action again and again. A burn emits after each spank on your poor clit, right in place of his fingers. The moment he stops, Ari takes his place, spitting on your petals and giving you his fair share of slaps, harder and rougher. A clear form of punishment. 

“She’s fuckin’ soaked,” He marvels at the cream and his mouth waters, “You like getting your pussy slapped, honey? Since you like it so much, maybe I should stop. Rightfully punish you for letting some guy pop your cherry without my permission.” He hisses, nostrils flaring, “Lloyd told me you’ve squirted from this, soaked your bed sheets while I was sleeping next door.” 

The moustached man sucks his fingers, cleaning your juices with desire. “I guess you should thank me, Ari. Since all of a sudden, you grew a pair of balls.” 

The implication was true yet you had no clue about it. How much Ari has wanted you, longed for your body under his—for you to be his. So, he did what any other person in his position would have done, his utterly sinful and taboo situation. He forced himself to keep a distance from his young and beautiful stepdaughter because this was wrong, but it felt so right. 

Ari laughs humourlessly, easily pushing your chair back so he can pop up from under the table. Now, on his knees between your legs, inhaling your intoxicating scent as his friend spreads your weepy petals, exposing your most sensitive spot to your stepdad. 

“Think I can slide in there too?”

Lloyd snorts, “You can try, but this little thing could barely take two of mine.”

“What do you say, baby? Are you going to let your stepdad stretch your pussy too?” His lashes brush his cheekbones with every slow blink, the underlying hint of anger still present. 

You offer nothing but a shaky yes, desperate to make it up to him, to be his good girl like you’ve always been since you met him. It was only a year ago, but moving from your father’s house to Ari’s mansion was a dramatic change. Not only did you have an immediate crush on him, but you were welcomed into a world of riches, luxurious yachts and vacations. 

Your attachment to Ari grew quickly. From your workaholic father, to your absent mother, you never had anyone to rely on. While your mother was on business trips or spending her new husband’s money, your pure, sheltered little heart leapt at the chance of having someone to trust. 

He has always been so kind to you, a true gentleman when it came to treating you with honour and respect, he was also who you went to for advice. All advice except sexually—although, he did know about your first kiss. 

He’s been aware of your lessons with his best friend, even encouraged them perhaps, but he’s upset about your New York trip. 

You suddenly wish he was the one to take your virginity instead of that blue-eyed, blond boxer, regardless of how handsome and charming he was. You wanted Ari, you wanted him so badly. 

Your wide gaze follows his thick and long digits circle your hole and collect your juices before slipping in. He’s bigger than Lloyd and feels entirely different. As he reaches deeper, he stretches you wider, and your arousal gushes out around him. 

He’s nearly drooling at the sight of you struggling to take only two, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, baby. You’ve been keeping it from me—you gave it to someone else, and that isn’t very nice.” His thumb lands on your clit, rubbing hard on the sensitive nub. 

You moan loudly, and your hands scramble, your touch is placed on something and that something happens to be Lloyd’s hard cock. He’s as warm and heavy in your hand as the first time, that familiarity makes your stomach tighten and your walls clench around Ari. 

“Remember what I told you, baby?” Lloyd’s hand dwarfs yours as he secures your fist and slowly moves you up and down his length. He uses your slick from his fingers to make the slide easier. “C’mon, use that dumb little brain for daddy.” 

A series of needy whimpers flow above when Ari scissors his fingers. His bicep flexes when he pumps into you, twisting and curling his digits as you try to remember what Lloyd told you during one of your first lessons: how to pleasure a man. 

“Poor girl, she isn’t going to last much longer.” Ari spits again, growling as it dribbles down your swollen clit to his other digit prodding at your hole, “You aren’t coming until I’ve got three fingers in you.” 

The mere thought of taking three and being that full makes you mewl. Tears flow freely as his ring finger shoves in, joining his two other sturdy ones. He presses to his hilt and out again, coating them in your slick with every thrust. Your pussy weeps a stupid mess between your trembling thighs and you latch onto his head, stabilizing yourself with a pathetic cry, either begging for a break or pleading for more.   

Your fist tightens and Lloyd throws back his head, neck tensing as he hisses your name, “that’s it, good girl. Slowly, don’t want to waste my come, yeah? My baby wants it on her little cunt, wants to feel my seed on her not-virgin pussy.”

Ari lets out a disgruntled noise, his actions getting rougher and the squelching noises get louder. 

Lloyd kisses you, tongue slipping into your slack mouth. Salvia is exchanged between your muffled whines and you struggle to keep up, but with Ari between your legs, you can’t think straight. 

The tingles flutter all over your body, strumming you just right. Pure pleasure takes over your senses, hyper-focusing on the two men that have the strength to shatter you like fine china. You feel so small and powerless next to him, and with one of them devouring your cunt. 

His tongue swipes along your fold, flat and wide, gathering your cream before he spits it back onto you. Making you even messier and wetter for his fat fingers. Your toes curl in euphoria, and you’re entranced by the feeling of every ridge and his warm exhales combined with the slight brush of his facial hair.  

When he pulls back, it’s as if he’s a completely different man. Dark, ferocious and hungry with a beastly glimmer in his eyes. Even on his knees, he still feels bigger than you. 

“Fuck you, Lloyd—greedy bastard.” Ari dives forward, shoving his face into your pussy. His fingers spear you open as he drinks down your slick, his nose rubbing against your clit with every hard stroke of his tongue. 

Every thought, every responsibility is torn from your head and replaced with these two men.

Ari has yanked down the front of your dress, massaging your breasts and pinching your nipples as he devours you. Drawing out your choked moans like he was being paid for it. He releases you with a pop, trailing his lips to kiss your thighs to sweep up any rogue arousal. 

His cheek is pressed to your thigh, his blue eyes flickering between you making out with his friend and your hole as it cries around his fingers, adding to the mess on your chair. 

“D-Daddy, my—my thing please.” You beg, salvia covering your chin. 

He kisses your inner thighs, two fingers in your pussy, “What was that?”

Lloyd reaches down, spanking your puffy clit before forcing two more digits next to Ari’s. With a loud gasp, your hips raise at the sudden stretch. A dull pain blooms from your core, bleeding into every part of your body as your cunt tries to adjust. 

You squeal between clenched teeth, thighs threatening to shut before your stepfather pins them open, hooking your knees over his shoulders. “Poor little cunt—she’s stretched to the brim, makes me wonder how my cock is gonna fit. Guess I’ll just force it in, huh, baby?” 

“Yes, yes, yes—please. Want it, want you.” You blubber. 

“Don’t you wish you had me pop your cherry with my big cock? I would have made you feel so good for your first time, worked you open just like this until you were ready. Then, I would have taken you nice and slow, fucked your untouched pussy, make you come as many times as you wanted.” His voice is low, almost a rumble in his chest, “but no, my little girl had to be a stupid slut and get fucked by some other guy—you shouldn’t even get to come for the whole fucking summer.” 

“Now, isn’t that a bit excessive?”

“No. If anything, it’s not enough.” Ari growls, “That purity—that honour was supposed to be mine.” 

You’re a twitching mess as they work you open, broken cries shake your chest as tears drip down your chin. Your eyes are shut tightly as you blindly reach for Ari’s hair, fisting the strands, you yank him closer to your core. 

You hadn’t even noticed you released Lloyd’s length until he grabs your hand, entwining your fingers and holding you still. 

He curls his digits, massaging your spot, “Oh, I think she wants you to suck on her clit.”

“Is that right, baby? You want your stepdaddy to suck your button? You think you deserve it for being a whore?” He asks. His resolve grows weaker as you moan his name between pleads, feebly trying to pull him to your cunt. 

“Fine, but you’re going to squirt for me.” He captures your clit in his mouth, sucking delicately at first. His blue eyes captive yours as he hums against you, the vibrations make you clench around their fingers, sucking them greedily. 

Your stepfather presses closer, massaging your bundle with his tongue between suckles as they get harsher and hungrier, his rough facial hair digging deep into your puffy folds. 

It’s a wonder how you lasted this long, between their filthy words and their skilled hands, and now Ari’s warm mouth—you can’t take it anymore. 

Your salty tears seep on your taste buds as your jaw falls open, and a silent scream escapes your tense throat. You convulse roughly, and your hips have a mind of their own as they move against Ari’s face and the men’s fingers.

“Keep her filled up,” Ari demands, he has to hold you down while Lloyd leans forward, breathing heavily. 

As Ari’s fingers slip out, their absence is quickly filled with two of Lloyd’s, your wetness drips down his wrist and on his fancy watch, but he couldn’t care less.

Your stepfather spits on his hand, then pushes down on your stomach, and roughly rubs and spanks your cunt in quick succession. He continues to brutally strum your swollen nub with his fingers as your juices squirt everywhere.

They watch as you reach your high, flailing around like a fish out of water and grabbing onto any part of them you can reach. You cling to Lloyd’s wrist and Ari’s hair, trapping him inches from your pussy. 

A good portion of your orgasm lands on Ari’s face, evident on his cheeks, thick beard, and ironed flannel. Their touches leave a few moments later, and you break down in tears as you finally take a breath, shuddering with oversensitivity as even the slightest wisp of air on your core feels like fire.  

Your stepfather is the first to speak, his pink tongue eagerly sweeping any trace of you from his lips. He wants to smother his face in your pussy. “Let me just have one more taste.” Ari leans forward, he gets one lick before you’re shoving him away, sobbing as his facial hair brushes your sensitive folds. 

“Sorry, baby. Daddy’s sorry.” He apologies, but if you could see him now, you’d notice the smugness written all over his face. “Forgot you’re still so inexperienced and not used to all this stimulation.” He pulls back with a lingering kiss on your button, revelling in your pathetic pleas. 

“Shh, you’re okay, pumpkin.” Lloyd caresses your cheek, kissing all over your sweaty face—he growls at the bitterness of your tears. “Gotta be gentle or else we’ll ruin you.” 

“Yes, p-please be n-nice.” You hiccup, still twitching in the chair. You fear you bit off more than you can chew. “Don’t… ruin, please.” An ache blooms from your awkward position, but the burning from between your thighs easily overpowers that. 

Ari and Lloyd laugh as if you told the funniest joke in the world.  

“Oh, it’s too late for that, dumb baby.” Lloyd chuckles with a sinister smile. 

Ari makes a sound of approval, wiping your juices from his beard with a napkin, “You, little lady, won’t be the same after the summer.” 

He couldn’t have been more right. 

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: oh the filthy potential… the whole summer learning from these two dilfs 😵‍💫😵‍💫 I just know Ari has some other friends too, oh can’t forget about your professors next year 🫠 or that blond boxer in New York...

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! This was written for my 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲… 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3

☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

“Yeah,” Kelce adds, “As in, she’s everywhere. Out every night, every club on the strip. Unsupervised.”

“She’s not a child, you morons.” Rafe takes another sip of his drink, and it takes everything in him not to down the whole damn thing in one go. You were younger than him, sure. But that didn’t mean he had to personally hold your hand every time you went out.

“No. But if word spreads that you can’t keep her in check? Won’t be good.”

“Yeah, man. Especially those old school investors you’re always having meetings with. They won’t wanna do business with you if they know you can’t discipline your girl.”

“I discipline her just fine,” Rafe snaps, but they’ve got to him. And he hates it. His stupid clown ass fucking friends who couldn’t even dream of having a girl as hot as you in their beds. Talking to him about not knowing how to discipline his own girl. “Trust me, I have things under control more than you’d know.”

They leave it at that and change the subject. But Rafe’s pissed the fuck off. Wants to shatter his glass on the goddamned coffee table type of pissed off.

He’d show them.

***

“Baby, look! That new dress I bought finally came!”

You’re like a ray of sunshine inside his dark, desolate house. Always so excited, always up to something. Trouble, but in the most intoxicating sense. It’s what had attracted him to you in the first place.

But Rafe’s still seething from earlier, and all he does is grunt, tugging his tie off and throwing it on his bed along with his suit jacket. You jump into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“Daddy, I missed you. Do you like my new dress?”

“Sure.” He mutters, gently prying you off him and not giving the dress you’re wearing a second glance. He knows it’s the one from some high end designer label’s new resort collection or some shit like that. It wasn’t even out in stores yet, but you’d made him pull some strings to get it for you. The exact one that had been worn on the runway. Nothing less for his princess. And all you’d had to do was bat your eyes and mention that you’d wanted it.

Maybe he was too lenient…

“Well, okay Mister Grumpy,” you giggle, skipping off back to your place in front of the vanity which is littered with your expensive makeup, skincare and hair oils. The ornate, vintage vanity you’d made him buy for you when he’d moved you into his house. “Well, I’m gonna wear it out tonight. Don’t wait up, by the way. I’m not sure when I’ll be home.”

He frowns, sitting down on the edge of his bed, “What?”

You pout, but it’s only to put your sparkly, candy pink lipgloss on. He loved it on you, it made you taste so extra sweet and made your lips look so fucking sexy and kissable.

“My friend Sierra’s party, silly! It’s at this new VIP club called Absynthe. And then there’s an after party back at—”

“You’re not going.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

There’s a few beats of silence before you put your makeup brush down and cross the room. Perch yourself on his lap all pretty, looking so tiny and delicious, yet taken aback at the same time. You grab his hand, pressing it down on your bare thigh.

“Daddy,” you breathe in that sexy voice of yours that gets him weak in the knees, “Is this ‘cause you’ll miss me in bed tonight? ‘Cause we can make up for that right now, if you want…”

You press his hand between your thighs and he sucks in his breath sharply. Fuck, you were so hot. He doesn’t pull it away, instead feeling the warmth of your bare skin which glows with whatever glittery body oil you’ve massaged on. And inhaling that sweet perfume of yours that you’ve spritzed liberally all over your body.

“This dress is too short.”

The realisation snaps Rafe out of whatever spell you were about to put him under. He takes a closer look, unable to stop the poisonous thoughts that invade his mind. The dress barely reaches mid thigh, barely covers your fucking ass. And it’s tight like a second skin, makes your body look insane. Too insane to be seen by any pair of eyes that weren’t his own.

You giggle, “I like short dresses. You said you like me in them.”

“Yes. I like you in them. Doesn’t mean the entire male population of Kildare gets to see you in them too.”

You huff, standing up abruptly, “Fine. Then I’ll change into something else.”

Rafe knows you too well. Knows you’ll change back into the slutty dress the moment you leave the house. You’re trouble with a capital T, and he’s always found it enamouring, cute, sexy, exciting. Except now.

“Change into whatever you want, you’re still not stepping foot outside this house tonight.”

Your hands land on your hips, perfectly groomed eyebrows raised and an indignant look on your face, “You can’t be serious…”

“I am. And spare the dramatics, I’m not in the mood.”

“Just because you’re in a bad mood doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me, Rafe!”

He frowns, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Don’t be a spoiled brat just because I won’t allow you to go clubbing till the early hours of the morning in a dress with your tits practically spilling out.”

Your jaw drops, and now you cross your arms below your chest, and it makes your cleavage look even more incredible. Despite everything, he can feel himself getting hard.

“You’re being mean,” you look at him venomously, but your lower lip quivers. That’s when he realises just how much he let you get away with in the past. But you were just so sweet, so charming. Such a sexy little thing, and you were his weakness.

He couldn’t be weak anymore.

“Trust me, you haven’t seen mean yet.” Rafe mutters, “No more clubbing for the foreseeable future. I won’t have my girl doing that shit anymore.”

“You can’t tell me what I can or can’t do.” You breathe.

“No? Do you want me to cut your allowance? Change my credit card details?” He waits, but you remain silent. “That’s what I thought.”

Now you’re glaring at him with daggers in your eyes, meticulously manicured hands curling into fists by your sides. You’ve always been a brat, and right now you look like a petulant child about to throw a tantrum. You’ve done it before, and he’s always given in. Happy wife, happy life, that kind of thing. Not this time, though.

“Go fuck yourself.”

Rafe snorts, standing up and running a hand through his buzzed hair, “Why? When I’ve got you for that.” He smirks when you gasp lightly, “Now if you actually want to make yourself useful, then make me a drink how you know I like it, and bring it to me in my study.”

He leaves, but not before tapping your ass on his way out. You huff angrily, but he doesn’t look back. Not this time. Who said he couldn’t discipline you? Hell, you’re lucky he didn’t take you over his knee the moment he saw that fucking sorry excuse for a dress.

No, this time you’ll learn.

***

Predictably, you don’t bring him his drink. Instead, he leans back against his leather chair in his study, watching as his phone pings with multiple rapid notifications from his bank.

You were using his credit card right at this very moment, spending his money on a bunch of different shit. Several thousand dollars at Van Cleef, Guiseppe Zanotti, Chanel. It was your way of getting back at him, but you spending his money only served to turn him on.

The corner of Rafe’s mouth twitches upwards. He could block his credit card from your phone, or change his details. But he’s never had a problem with you spending his money. In fact, he found it to be the hottest fucking thing: the confidence with which you spent his money on the most extravagant shit possible. And he loved that he could show you off, his girl who was always dripping head to toe in diamonds and designer labels. Well taken care of. And all his.

Now if only you could just be a good girl and stop going out partying so much.

It’s not that Rafe cared much about you going out clubbing before today. He himself felt too old for that shit, but he never had a problem with you going. He liked to see you have fun, and you always came home to him all drunk and giggly. Snuggled up to him and let him take care of you. He liked that. Because he trusted you and knew you were a good girl who knew who she belonged to. But what he didn’t like was other people thinking he was some pussy-whipped little bitch.

It takes him upwards of an hour to get through the remaining work he has. By the time it’s all done, Rafe’s itching to get in bed with you. Hopefully you were done being dramatic and he could have a quiet night.

Instead, he walks back into the bedroom to see your suitcase open wide on the bed, and your shit strewn everywhere.

“The fuck is this?”

You sniffle, dramatically folding an article of clothing, “I’m leaving you.”

He rolls his eyes, “Can you leave me tomorrow? I’d like to sleep right now.”

You toss your hair over your shoulder in frustration, shooting him a glare but all he can focus on is how hot you look. You’ve changed into a pair of tiny pink silk pyjama shorts and a matching vest top. Hardly the kind of attire you’d wear when you were about to leave someone.

“You’re such a jerk, Rafe. A mean, horrible, unfair jerk. Fuck you.”

Rafe yawns, leaning against the doorframe and watching you in amusement, “A mean, horrible, unfair jerk, huh? For setting boundaries that you clearly need?”

You scowl, “I’m not your child, Rafe. And you’ve never had a problem with me going out before.”

He shrugs, “Yeah, well that’s going to change from now on going forward. I can’t have people thinking I don’t know how to control my girl.” He makes his way over to you and shuts your suitcase with a finality, pushing it onto the floor, “Now get in bed, I’m tired.”

“Of course you’re tired. You’re old and boring and you don’t understand that you’re smothering me and I hate you!” You’re growing more hysterical by the second, but it’s not something Rafe isn’t used to. This isn’t the first temper tantrum from you he’s had to deal with, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

“Baby,” he wraps his arms around you, not budging even when you fight against him with your feeble, ineffective little punches that only make him chuckle, “C’mon, don’t be like this. You know I’m only trying to protect you.”

“No. You’re just trying to control me. Because you hate me.”

“If I hated you, you’d be dead,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck while you’re still trying to push him away, “Now come on, there’s worse things to pout about than not being allowed to go clubbing.”

“It’s supposed to be the biggest party of the summer! And my outfit was soo good!”

“Why don’t you act like all the other girlfriends? Plan a brunch or go to the country club?” He continues pressing kisses down your neck.

“Because I’m not a brain dead tradwife, Rafe!”

That makes him laugh, and he can sense you holding back a smile too.

“No, baby, you’re just a brat.”

He kisses you, claiming your mouth while his hand reaches down to palm your ass. He grabs a handful, giving it a squeeze through the silky material of your shorts. You gasp into his mouth and he smirks, ignoring how you pound at his chest.

“Let go of me! I told you I’m leaving!”

But you let him push you down on the bed, let him climb on top of you and kiss you some more. Sure, you have a lot to say, cursing and whining and crying about your stupid club all while he kisses you everywhere. Your face, your neck, your collarbones, pushes your top down to kiss your breasts. And he can taste the chocolatey coco of your shimmery body oil, and he’s so fucking hard.

“I wanna go to the Bahamas.” You say while he’s between your legs, eating your cunt like he’s starved. It’s his favourite type of food, and he loves pressing your thighs so far apart he’s sure he’ll leave bruises.

He looks up at you indulgently, “Sure, baby. Anything else?”

A trip to the Bahamas with him was better than you going clubbing by yourself.

“I’d like a car. Like a cute pink convertible.”

“Of course you would.”

The truth is, he’d buy you just about anything you wanted. All the dresses, cars, jewellery, makeup, trips, all of it. If it meant you’d be happy in your gilded cage, satisfied enough that you’d give up your frivolous clubbing and wild ways that made him look bad.

Now, you thrash above him, grabbing at the sheets and at his head as you come undone. Arching your back so pretty, pressing your wet pussy right on his face as he laps you up. He knows he was hard on you today, and you need the extra attention.

“Mmmm, dada… I-I…”

Rafe makes you orgasm three times before coming up for air, kissing you possessively so you can taste yourself on him. And you’re more docile now, you always are after he’s tamed you and gotten you off. Like you’ve orgasmed the brattiness out of you. Except it never lasts long, but he’d take what he could get.

“Go to sleep now,” he orders you, pecking your face a couple more times. “It’s late.”

“For you it’s late.”

“Shhhh,” he kisses you again till he can feel you smiling against his lips.

“Fine.” You yawn, letting him tuck you by his side and pull the covers up as he turns the lamp off.

He knows it’s anything but fine, and the battle is far from over. But he’s got you tamed for now, which was a victory in itself.

Fuck his dumb fucking friends. Who said Rafe Cameron didn’t know exactly how to control his girl?