The air in the mansion was heavy with the scent of sweat and sex when Derek finally pulled himself off Stiles. His cock slipped free of her pussy with a wet sound, his cum spilling out in thick streams onto the sheets.

She lay sprawled, tits glistening with milk, her lips curled into a satisfied, filthy smile.

“Go back to your room before your doll wakes up,” Stiles whispered huskily, brushing her fingers over his chest.

Derek kissed her hard once more—wet, sloppy, tongues tangled—before dragging himself up and slipping his clothes back on. His legs felt like lead, his cock still half-hard, but he forced himself to leave.

By the time he crept into his bedroom, Sara was still fast asleep, silk mask over her eyes, clutching her phone on the nightstand. She didn’t stir when he slid under the sheets. Derek lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his lips still tasting of Stiles’s milk and cunt. His cock throbbed again, but exhaustion pulled him under.

Morning came bright and cruel. Sara was already awake, humming as she tried on dresses in front of the mirror.

“You came in late last night,” she said casually, without looking at him. “Busy at work again?”

Derek nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Long night.”

She barely reacted, too focused on her reflection. “Mmh. Don’t forget the gala tomorrow. We’ll be photographed—I can’t look bloated. So no stress, Derek, alright?” She winked before slipping into another dress.

He muttered something noncommittal, but his chest ached. Not once had she asked about Eli.

Downstairs, the contrast was sharp. Stiles sat on the rug, hair in a messy bun, wearing only a tank top with no bra and tiny shorts. Her tits bounced freely as she played with Eli, the baby giggling, his chubby fists reaching for her.

Derek’s heart melted at the sight. He crouched down, ruffling his son’s hair. “Morning, Eli.”

Eli squealed, clapping his hands. Stiles laughed softly, brushing the baby’s cheek. “He missed you last night, daddy.”

The way she said daddy made Derek’s cock twitch instantly. He glanced at her, and she smirked knowingly.

When Sara breezed past the living room, already on her phone, Stiles leaned closer, whispering, “Your baby was such a good boy. Just like his daddy… who fucked me so good last night.”

Derek nearly choked. His hand gripped her thigh under the blanket of Eli’s toy mat, fingers digging into her soft skin.

“You little slut,” he whispered darkly.

Her lips parted, a tiny moan slipping out. “Mmm… call me that again.”

He pinched her inner thigh, dangerously close to her pussy. “My filthy nanny slut. You’re dripping right now, aren’t you?”

She bit her lip, eyes sparkling. “Soaked. Can feel my panties sticking to me. Want to taste?”

His cock hardened instantly. He glanced at Eli, then back at her, eyes burning. “If my baby wasn’t here, I’d have you on the floor right now.”

Stiles giggled, bouncing Eli gently on her lap so her tits jiggled. “He doesn’t mind. He loves when daddy drinks mommy’s milk.”

Derek’s jaw clenched. He reached out under the guise of tickling Eli but let his knuckles brush against her boob through the thin tank. She moaned softly, biting back the sound as she pressed the baby’s rattle into his hand.

Later, in the kitchen, Sara was too busy blending her green detox smoothie to notice Derek cornering Stiles near the fridge.

His body pressed into hers, pinning her against the cold steel, his lips brushing her ear. “You’re mine,” he growled. “Last night wasn’t enough. I want you again. Everywhere in this house.”

Stiles gasped softly, arching into him, her nipples hard under the thin fabric of her tank. “Mmm… fuck, yes. Use me whenever you want. Just don’t stop, daddy.”

He slid his hand between her thighs, pressing against her soaked shorts. She whimpered, hiding her face against his chest when Sara turned her head, oblivious.

Sara sipped her smoothie, scrolling her phone, before walking out without a glance.

The moment she was gone, Derek shoved his fingers under Stiles’s shorts, brushing her wet slit. “Dripping,” he muttered, thrusting two fingers inside.

She clamped her hand over her mouth, moaning into his chest. “Ohhh fuck—Derek… daddy… you’ll make me cum in the kitchen…”

His lips curved in a wicked smirk. “That’s the idea.”

Eli’s soft coo from his baby chair pulled them back, and Derek withdrew his fingers, sucking them into his mouth with a low groan.

“Sweet,” he muttered, licking his lips.

Stiles was trembling, eyes glazed, her pussy still aching for him. She smirked, whispering, “Next time, daddy, fuck me on the counter. While your wife makes her juice.”

Derek’s cock throbbed violently at the thought.

This secret heat was only growing. And neither of them wanted to stop.