Stiles slid off the counter on shaky legs, her body a trembling mess of pleasure and exhaustion. Derek’s cum mixed with the crushed blueberry juice dripped down her inner thighs, slick and sticky, every step making her wince from the soreness but also sending fresh tingles through her core. Her lace thong was long gone, discarded somewhere on the floor, and her bra hung torn from one shoulder, her heavy tits spilling out. She felt so filthy, so used—and she loved it.

“Daddy… the food…” she whimpered, glancing at the half-finished stir-fry on the stove, her voice breathy.