Page 40 of Daddies' Little Troublemaker

“Please, right there, I want you to keep doing that, Daddy!”

“Fucking shout it, baby girl. Let Lincoln hear you, too.” He’s thrusting in and out of me, hitting my clit with every push and dragging out against it when he pulls back.

“Please, Daddy!” I yell.

He tightens his grip around my throat, and everything comes apart before reforming in a kaleidoscope of pleasure.

“So good, doll, so good,” Caleb says, letting go of my neck and kissing over my throat while he continues fucking me.

I turn my head to give him more access to my neck, and my gaze instinctively goes to the upstairs window.

Lincoln’s up there, and his eyes are locked on me.

12

MOH

Lincoln

I shouldn’t be watching. I knew this as soon as I heard them talking outside. I knew where this would go, and yet I remained here behind the curtains. I watched him approach her. I watched the way they talked, the way she looked at him.

He cupped her throat with his hand and I knew it was over—this was happening.

And yet still, here I stand.

I should’ve walked away, but even as she takes off her bikini top and he drags down the bottoms, I’m stuck in place. At least I move behind the curtain. It obstructs their view of me, but it also obstructs my view of them. Everything is happening beyond the flimsy gray fabric, the details muddied and unclear.

The window is open, though. I can hear everything.

It’s only when she starts begging, egged on by Caleb, that I move away from the curtains for a better view. Her leg is thrown over his shoulder and his hips pump at a fast but controlled pace. Those beautiful, perfect tits of hers bounce slightly, but she’s playing with them—likely at Caleb’s instruction. Fuck, if I were down there, I’d be licking and biting those little nipples for her.

My dick is so damn hard, I could come in my jeans. I free it, squeezing the base to hold myself off because this is so fucking intense.

And after she comes? She looks right up at me with those summer-blue eyes.

“Evie!” Caleb roars.

He can call her Evie, but she told me not to. Little brat.

He slams into her one final time, holding her hips in place with one hand, his other hand resting at her throat.

Fuck. My hand won’t stop moving over my cock, the head angry and aching, the entire shaft swollen with need. I bring my other hand around just in time to catch the white spurts of come.

I back away from the window. Shouldn’t have been here, shouldn’t have done it.

But even in my post-nut clarity, these regrets are fake. If I went back in time twenty minutes, I’d do it all again. The only thing that would change is I might go down to the pool and join in.

Keeping my distance from little Evelyn obviously isn’t fucking working.

* * *

Evelyn

Caleb and I got dressed after fucking yesterday, and he led me into the house where he made us some dinner—enough for Lincoln, too.

But Lincoln never came down to eat.

Caleb kissed me goodnight after dinner, and that was that. Maybe it was a one-time fuck, just to get it out of our system, and I was misreading everything about the intense way he watched me. Didn’t Lincoln imply that Caleb isn’t the type to settle down with anyone? He said he didn’t want me to get my heart broken.

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