Daddy's Forbidden Game

Synopsis

I used to think the worst part of living with my stepdad during the season was the constant noise—sneakers on hardwood, the television always replaying the same damn possessions. I was wrong. The worst part—and the best part—was the night they won that game and decided the celebration needed rules. I was just the girl on the couch in an oversized T-shirt, complaining about the heat, pretending I wasn't watching the way Victor's polo stretched across his chest or the way Jax laughed like he already knew something I didn't. One stupid drinking game. One "harmless"punishment. One hand that slipped under my shirt and stayed a second too long while my stepdad watched and didn't stop it. That was all it took. Now I know the sound of my own wetness against the couch cushions. I know how it feels to be blindfolded and told to guess whose cock is inside me. I know the exact weight of Victor's hand when he covers my mouth so Mom won't hear us in the kitchen. I know what it means when he says "baby girl"in that low voice, and I know I'll open for him every single time. I used to call myself a slut for wanting it. I don't bother anymore. This is the new balance. This is the captain's rules. And I'm still playing.