Unholy Desires

Ripped By My Roommate’s Dad(3)

~Maya~

I kept my eyes on him like he was the last goddamn miracle on earth. His c**k was still hard. Still thick. Still dripping with the taste of me, of him, of everything. I wrapped both hands around it..because yes, it took both..and I moaned. I actually moaned like some needy, desperate little girl who didn’t know the meaning of self-respect.

And maybe I didn’t.

Not with him.

Not now.

“Look at you,” he muttered. “You don’t even care anymore, do you, kitten?”

“I don’t,” I whispered, my tongue flicking over the head like I was starved for it. “I don’t care about anything but this. About you. I want it again. I want to feel it again. I want you to ruin me again.”

And then I opened my mouth.

Wide.

So wide my jaw cracked.

And I took him in like I was built for it.

I didn’t stop.

I didn’t flinch.

I let his c**k slide across my tongue, past my lips, down my throat, until I was gagging around it again, choking with tears pouring down my cheeks and spit running down my chin and God, it was the best f*****g thing I’d ever felt.

My throat clenched.

My eyes rolled back.

My p***y clenched too—because yes, I was that f**king gone.

He groaned. Like he was holding himself back with every vein in his body bulging. His hand tangled in my hair. His hips moved. Just a little. Just enough.

And then.

He started to f**k my mouth again.

And I let him.

I wanted him to.

Because I didn’t just want to suck his c**k. I wanted to be his c**k sleeve. His toy. His kitten. I wanted him to forget how old I was. Forget who I was. I wanted him to look down and see nothing but a mouth for him to use until he came again.

And God, he used it.

Over and over.

My knees slid on the tile. My hands dug into his thighs. My nails left red trails. But I didn’t stop. Not even when my face was a soaked mess of spit and tears. Not even when he hit the back of my throat so hard I saw white.

“Good girl,” he grunted, holding my head in place as he buried himself all the way in. “Take it, baby. You take it so f*****g well. I’m gonna f**k this throat until you forget how to speak.”

I whimpered.

Literally whimpered.

Because I could feel it. Feel his c**k twitching. Feel the way he slammed just a little harder, held a little longer.

And then.

He came.

In my mouth.

Again.

And I f**king swallowed.

Like a good girl.

Like a ruined girl.

Like his girl.

And when he finally pulled out, chest heaving, c**k still twitching, and I looked up at him..spit all over my face, his c*m dripping down my throat, my hands still shaking..I didn’t wait for permission.

I moaned, blinked up through my wet lashes, and whispered..

“Can I ride it now, Daddy?”

He didn’t even answer.

He grabbed me.

One hand on my throat, the other under my thigh, and before I could blink, he lifted me like I weighed nothing and slammed me against the bathroom mirror.

My legs spread without me thinking. My soaked, swollen p***y rubbed right against the base of his c**k like it knew what was coming and couldn’t f**king wait.

“I said,” I whispered again, panting now, grabbing his jaw with both hands like I was spiraling, “can I ride it now, Daddy?”

And that’s when he smirked.

That evil, possessive, you-just-f****d-up kind of smirk.

The one that makes you wet and terrified at the same time.

“You want to ride it?” he asked. “Then ride it, kitten. Show me how desperate you are to sit on the c**k that just ruined your throat and filled your pussy.”

I nearly came from that alone.

I reached down with shaking fingers and wrapped my hand around the base of him..still thick, still hard, still dripping. I lifted myself up, knees wobbling, breath shuddering. And I stared at him the entire time. My eyes on his. My mouth open. My cheeks flushed.

Then I slid down.

Slowly.

So f*****g slowly.

And baby, I felt everything.

Every thick inch of him stretching me again, dragging through my raw, aching walls that were already sore and soaked from the first time. I gasped. Cried out. My nails dug into his shoulders. My thighs quivered as I lowered myself until he was all the way in again.

“Fffffuck,” I moaned, throwing my head back as my p***y clenched around him. “I feel every inch—Daddy, I feel it so deep—I feel it in my f*****g throat…”

His hands locked on my hips.

“You said you wanted to ride it,” he growled, slapping my ass once, then gripping it so hard I whimpered. “So f*****g ride it. Show me what this tight little cunt was made to do.”

And I did.

I moved.

I bounced.

I f**king rode him like my life depended on it, t**s bouncing, breath catching, jaw slack as I slid up and down that c**k like I was possessed. My c**t rubbed against his pelvis with every grind. My body burned. My p***y pulsed. And every time I dropped down and took him deep again, I moaned louder.

“Daddy—Daddy—I can’t—I’m gonna—oh my God…”

He grabbed my face.

Forced me to look at myself in the mirror.

“Watch yourself,” he snarled. “Watch yourself bounce on Daddy’s c**k like a filthy little slut. Look how pretty you are with my c*m leaking out of your cunt.”

And I did.

I looked.

I saw the tears in my lashes. The spit on my chin. The mascara running. The red handprint on my ass. The stretch. The shame. The need.

And I came.

Hard.

So f**king hard I screamed.

I locked up around him, walls clenching, legs twitching, body grinding against him like I was trying to melt into his skin. My c*m gushed down his c**k. My cries cracked in the mirror. My vision blurred.

But he wasn’t done.

Not even close.

“You’re not stopping,” he grunted, yanking me down harder. “You ride it through your orgasm. You ride it till you’re begging me to stop and then I’m gonna flip you over and f**k you on the glass until it breaks.”

And I nodded.

I f**king nodded, still crying, still moaning, still grinding my dripping cunt down onto him.

“Yes, Daddy,” I sobbed. “Use me. Please. Break me.”

My throat burned.

My hands slapped the mirror behind him as I tried to keep moving. I was still riding him like he told me to, still letting that thick c**k spear up into me with every bounce of my trembling thighs. I could feel the mess between us. My c*m. His c*m. Sweat. Spit. Shame.

It was everywhere.

“Good girl,” he growled, eyes locked on mine in the mirror. “That’s it. f**k that c**k, baby. Look how pretty you are when you cry for it.”

“I c-can’t,” I gasped, and it was the truth—I was shaking so bad I could barely stay upright.

He didn’t care.

“You can,” he snapped. “And you will. You begged for this. You begged Daddy to let you ride it. Now f*****g ride it.”

I sobbed, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood, but I obeyed.

Because I was his.

Because I wanted to be.

Because this was everything I dreamed about when I touched myself under the covers and whispered his name into my pillow at night.

I slammed down onto him again, harder this time, and he growled so loud it vibrated through my chest.

And then.

He grabbed me.

Rough hands around my waist.

Lifted me off him like I weighed nothing and spun me toward the mirror.

Face first.

Cheek to glass.

Legs spread.

Pussy exposed and still twitching from the last orgasm.

“Now I’ll show you what happens when you ask to ride it,” he muttered, one hand dragging between my thighs to rub the slick mess dripping down my cunt. “I gave you a chance to be in control. You wasted it. Now Daddy’s gonna make you scream.”

And then he shoved inside.

I screamed.

No warning.

No teasing.

No prep.

Just one brutal, deep thrust that slammed me against the mirror and sent a loud, wet smack echoing through the bathroom. My t**s hit the glass. My face fogged it up. My breath caught in my throat and my whole body jerked as he f****d into me like he was claiming me from the inside out.

“Oh f**k—oh my God—Daddy—!”

He didn’t slow down.

He didn’t let me breathe.

He gripped my hips and used me—slamming me into the glass over and over, c**k so deep I couldn’t even stand straight.

And I loved it.

“You think I don’t see the way you look at me?” he hissed in my ear. “The way you bite your lip when I walk into the room? You wanted this. You f*****g wanted this, and now you’ve got it.”

“I—I did,” I sobbed. “I wanted it—I want more—I want you to ruin me—please—please ruin me—”

His hand closed around my throat again.

Not hard.

Just tight enough.

Just enough to remind me I wasn’t in control. That I was 18 and stupid and soaked and his.

“You belong to me now, kitten,” he growled, pounding into me even harder. “You understand? This p***y is mine. Your mouth is mine. That sweet little body? All f*****g mine.”

And I came again.

Clenching so hard around him I swear I saw stars explode behind my eyes. My legs gave out. My arms went limp. I was hanging from his grip, choking on my own moans, shaking against the mirror like a girl who’d just sold her soul and knew it was worth it.

He didn’t stop.

Even as I cried.

Even as I begged.

Even as I drooled down the glass and my nails scraped it, leaving marks in the steam.

He kept going.

He f****d me like he owned me.

And then.

He pulled out.

Spun me around.

Lifted me up by the thighs.

And shoved back in.

“I’m not finished,” he said, dragging my body down onto his c**k. “Not until I come inside this tight little cunt again. Not until I fill you up so deep you’ll be leaking me for days.”

My head rolled back.

I couldn’t speak.

I could only whimper, lips swollen, p***y wrecked, legs limp, completely—completely—gone.

“Breed me,” I whispered, barely able to form the words. “Please, Daddy. Make me yours forever.”

And when he came.

Roaring my name.

Filling me so deep I felt it hit my womb.

I knew I was done.

Marked.

Claimed.

And f**king addicted.