Page 27 of My Daddy Valentine

I keep pumping inside her, screwing her into a frenzy. I reach around, playing with her tits, tweaking her nipples between my fingers. I kiss along her shoulder, sinking my teeth into her soft flesh. “You’re perfect.”

“I’m coming,” she moans out long and hard, and the sound of it causes me to nearly lose control. “Oh, Simon. I’m coming so hard.”

“That’s it. Come all over me, Ella.” My cock is so fucking stiff as her pussy vibrates all over it. The feeling of her tightness, the way her walls close in around me during her orgasm, causes me to come. “Fuck, baby. I feel you.” And it’s the best feeling in the world.

A feeling I don’t ever want to end.

16

Ella

The wedding is beautiful. It’s everything Kimmy could have dreamed of—elegant, flawless, and full of the kind of love and joy you only see in the movies. The ceremony is held in a massive, ornate hall on the resort’s grounds, with towering columns and delicate chandeliers that glisten like diamonds. The guests are dressed to perfection, the flowers are immaculate, and the sunlight filtering through the tall windows makes everything feel almost too perfect.

I can’t help but smile as I watch Kimmy and Mark exchange vows. I’m happy for her. I really am. She deserves this, all of it—the perfect guy, the perfect wedding. And in some strange way, it makes me feel like I’m doing the right thing. I’m playing my part, standing beside Simon as myfakeboyfriend, showing my father that I’m not just his little girl, that I can make my own choices, that I’m serious about what I want.

But here’s the thing—I never expected it to feel like this.

I never expected to feelthisconnected to Simon.

As the ceremony unfolds, I catch glimpses of him out of the corner of my eye. He’s standing tall, confident, and with his usual composed expression. He’s the perfect gentleman, exactly what I needed for this charade. But there’s something more to it. I can’t stop thinking about him. The way he held me last night. The way he whispered my name when he came inside me. It’s real, right?

The moment Kimmy and Mark exchange their first kiss as husband and wife, I can’t help but feel a flutter of jealousy twist in my chest. It’s ridiculous. I don’t want to feel like this. Ican’tfeel like this. But there it is, undeniable and raw.

As the guests move to the reception area, Simon and I walk side by side. He’s as composed as ever, but I’m acutely aware of every little detail—the way his hand rests against my lower back as we navigate through the crowd, the warmth of his body just inches from mine. It’s a strange mix of being incredibly comfortable and yetwaytoo aware of how much I want him. But I push the thought down, telling myself to focus on the role we’re playing.

After we’ve mingled for a while and the first dance is underway, Ava finds me at the edge of the dance floor. She gives me a knowing look, her eyes glinting with mischief. I know what’s coming.

“Okay, spill,” she says, pulling me away from the crowd. “How’s it going? Are you two actually pulling this off, or is your dad going to figure it out before dessert?”

I bite my lip, a little unsure of how to answer. The truth is, I’m not sure how to separate what’s real from what’s fake anymore. Simon’s been incredible—playing his part flawlessly, being the perfect boyfriend when my father’s around, holding my hand and pretending to care. But every time we’re alone, every time hetouches me, I feel it. The connection is undeniable, and I can’t keep pretending it’s all just a game.

“It’s... fine,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant, though the words feel strange in my mouth. “I mean, no one’s figured it out yet. It’s working for now.”

Ava raises an eyebrow. “You sure? I mean, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Are you sure he’s just pretending, or is there more to it?”

I try not to let the warmth spreading through my chest show. “We’re both pretending. It’s just for the weekend, for my father. He’s still not convinced, so I need to keep playing along.”

But as I say the words, something in my chest tightens. I want to tell Ava how much I’mfeelingthis. I want to admit that the way Simon looks at me makes my heart race, makes my stomach flutter. I want to tell her that last night, when we were alone in our room, everything felt real. I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to pull away when he kissed me, when he touched me, when he made love to me. But I hold my tongue, because I know how crazy it sounds.

Ava looks at me with a skeptical expression, but she doesn’t press further. Instead, she glances over my shoulder toward the reception hall, where my father is standing, engaged in a conversation with some guests.

“I’m just saying,” Ava continues, her voice lowered, “it’s a little suspicious that no one’s figured it out yet. I mean, you two arewaytoo comfortable with each other. You sure your dad doesn’t know what’s up?”

I glance over at my father, and I can see the subtle glances he’s giving us throughout the evening. His gaze lingers on Simonlonger than I’d like, and I know he’s been watching for signs that this whole thing isn’t real. But so far, we’ve managed to keep up the façade. Simon’s been perfect—charming, confident, playing his part to a tee. But my father’s not an idiot.

“I don’t know,” I admit, trying to sound casual. “I think he’s suspicious, but he’s still buying it. He doesn’t have proof, so...”

Ava nods thoughtfully, but before she can say anything more, my father’s voice cuts through the conversation.

“Ella,” he calls from across the room, his voice sharp and commanding. I turn to find him standing with Simon, an expression on his face that is at once calculating and irritated.

Ava smiles, a little too knowingly, and gives me a quick, teasing wink before slipping away into the crowd. “Good luck with that,” she whispers over her shoulder.

I make my way over to my father and Simon, my heart thudding in my chest. Simon is standing with his usual calm demeanor, but I can tell my father is still sizing him up. There’s something about the way they’re standing that feels too close—too comfortable.

“Everything going well, Simon?” my father asks, his voice smooth but with an edge beneath it.

Simon straightens, his gaze never leaving my father. “Everything’s fine, Mr. Williams. We’re just enjoying the evening.”

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