13. Kadence

When I wakeup the next day, I'm yet again confused for a few seconds by my surroundings. Then it hits me.

I'm still here.

Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I exhale and wonder if this is a terrible mistake or the best decision I've ever made.

Jessie is supportive—enthusiastically so. My texts haven't exactly been giving him all the facts. He still has no idea what drove me here in the first place, and I didn't confess to any of my embarrassing breakdowns. So with the information he has—i.e. that I've extended my weekend visit with my new sugar Daddy—he thinks it's all very romantic.

I'm honestly not sure what's going on.

Financially speaking, it's a no brainer. Rafferty is going to pay me more per week than I was going to make a month at that awful office job. I'm sure I'll start getting bored eventually. However, for now at least, all I have to do for him is be beautiful and let him fuck me whenever he wants. I can do that.

He's also feeding me, buying me more clothes, and letting me have free rein in his study, where he's organized all his books. As long as I put anything back where I find it, I can read whatever I like.

You could call me a whore and you wouldn't be wrong. But how is this much different from being a sugar baby? We're both consenting adults who have agreed to terms we find mutually acceptable. I don't care what the specifics of the law might say, I don't think I'm doing anything illegal.

Morally gray? Scandalous?

Yeah.

Rafferty is creating a paper trail if he's going to put me on his company's payroll. All I'd need to do is get some video footage and…

And the idea makes me feel sick.

The whole point of me coming here was to get my revenge. But I'm starting to think I really can't do this to Rafferty himself. At least not in any way that does him any lasting damage.

Rubbing my chest, I think it over hard. He's been nothing but kind and generous to me. More than that, he's been honest and respectful. The complete opposite of his son. Yes, he wants to keep the relationship secret. It's not like we're dating. And it's not unreasonable for a prolific man to keep a sexual affair on the down-low. Especially when everyone thinks he's straight and married.

But the difference is he's not ashamed of me. If anything, by the way he beams at me, I'd say he's proud of me. Which is ridiculous to admit, but that's how I'm feeling. Like he appreciates me. In fact, the way he wants to keep me all to himself is kind of romantic. As if I'm a precious jewel he wants to admire in private. There's nothing wrong with that.

No. Rafferty doesn't deserve to be ruined. I don't know what the deal with his wife is, but she's not here, and I am. If he wants to keep that long-distance thing alive for whatever reason, let him. He's earned that much from me. Not to mention how compromising images could end his business. He definitely doesn't deserve that.

Logan still deserves his comeuppance, though. The was he treated me was so beyond unacceptable, and he needs a harsh lesson in consequences. So…yeah. Whenever Rafferty decides he's done with me, I'll just take whatever evidence I've collected and go gloat to Logan that I spent however long banging his dad. That ought to humiliate that self-loathing, closeted little homo enough.

Hopefully, Rafferty will never even have to know. I doubt Logan would be brave enough to confront his old man about it. That would involve explaining how we know each other or why Logan would care if we were together.

Happy with my new plan, I release the tension from my chest like a butterfly taking flight. It's time for a shower and to get my game face on.

Who knows what Daddy will have in store for us today?

"Kiki?" Rafferty's firm voice rings through the house.

He explained over breakfast that he had back-to-back meetings that afternoon, so I'd have to entertain myself. After I took myself on a walk around a different part of the grounds, I'd settled in the study and started reading another book. Checking the clock on the mantel, I frown. I thought he wouldn't be done for another couple of hours.

Placing a bookmark between the pages, I leave it on the coffee table, rise from the chaise lounge, and hold on to the door frame as I look down the hallway. Sure enough, he's standing at the threshold of his office.

"Yes, Daddy?" I reply.

He simply crooks a finger at me in a ‘come hither' gesture, then walks back inside.

Curious, I sashay down the corridor like it's a catwalk. As usual, I'm in a floaty dress and heels with no underwear for easy access. This outfit is a combination of raspberry pink and cream, and I specifically picked a fruity lip gloss to match. Not that Rafferty will be getting a taste, but it makes me feel particularly delicious as I head toward him, my steps echoing off the walls.

Perhaps one of his video conferences got canceled, and he has a little free time. Oh, the things this doll could do for him in just ten minutes.

He's not going to regret offering me this ridiculous deal. No one in their right mind should pay so much for another human being just to relax in their home. I almost feel guilty.

There are several reasons I should feel guilty.

No. This whole thing might have started insincerely, and he doesn't even know that. But I'm going to make it up to him regardless. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. I'll just make sure he never, ever finds out how I've been using him.

Anyway, enough melancholy thoughts. Time for him to use me in a much funner way.

When I enter his office, I find him sitting back down at his desk. He doesn't look up at me, and I can hear a voice coming from his computer. Going with my gut instinct rather than waiting for an instruction, I move closer, peeking at the large monitor as I round the desk.

He's on a video conference. There's got to be twenty faces looking back at him. I'm just out of the frame.

I'm too busy trying to work out what's happening to notice him raise his hand, but suddenly he's yanking me between himself and the desk. I gasp, my eyes going wide as I flick them over the screen.

Nobody's even flinched at my appearance.

That's when I look for Rafferty's display box and see that it's both black and muted.

We can see and hear everyone else, but they can't see or hear us.

Rafferty shoves his chair back, the wheels a low rumble on the wooden floor. That's all the warning I get before he pushes me down, my chest pressing against his desk, my face an inch from his keyboard.

An austere-looking woman is giving a brisk report about some kind of percentages. I don't take in much more than that before Rafferty's hands are pulling my ass cheeks apart, and his tongue is delving between my crack.

Inhaling deeply, I relinquish my control and stop worrying what's happening or what could happen. Rafferty's work colleagues have no idea what we're doing right now. But with all their eyes looking our way it certainly feels like they're watching their boss eat me out. He hums and moans as he sucks and licks and probes, his spit dripping down my balls.

Fucking hell.

I stay still for him, ever the obedient doll. But I can't stop my gaze from drifting up and looking at all those unsuspecting faces.

The very first time he fucked me was in public. But they were all strangers, not to mention consensual guests at a big old orgy. These people have no idea what they're being included in—and they never will do, I imagine. But it still feels incredibly naughty.

Someone else begins speaking as he moves his face away from my ass. From the extra lube he smears down there and the other squelching noises, it's pretty clear what's going to happen next.

It seems like the oblivious people on the screen are discussing funds from certain projects and whether or not they'd be better off allocating them elsewhere. Everyone who speaks is calm and methodical. Rafferty's desk clatters as he thrusts inside me, lube running down my thighs. He wraps his hand around my neck as he starts pounding me hard and fast.

"Good boy," he grunts. "Feels so good for your Daddy. Pretty doll. Take it. Take it."

"Can we get your thoughts on that, Mr. Rafferty?"

I'm already immobile, but those words send icy panic through me, and I freeze up.

Not Rafferty, though.

He slows his pace before letting my throat go and casually clicking the symbol to unmute himself. For a terrifying second, I think the video is going to start as well, and everyone is going to see either my face, his dick in my ass, or both.

But the picture remains black as Rafferty begins to speak.

"There's nothing further to add on that particular project," he says as his cock slides slowly back, and then he drives it home hard. I bite my lip and screw up my eyes, desperately trying not to make a peep. But that bastard continues to torment me, fucking me slowly as he calmly talks to his team. "In fact, the entire town is turning out to be a more frustrating investment than I'd initially anticipated. I'm going to discuss this further with Larry and Jeff, who've done the most work with me on this, but as much as I'm loathed to admit, it might be time to sell off and move on."

There's a murmur of agreement, but his words have actually pulled me out of a perfectly decadent headspace.

The project is a town? One he owns? Is he talking about Paddle Creek? The town that was there for me when I wasn't welcome at home anymore? The place he continues to buy up and leave to languish?

What the fuck?

Anger flashes through me, and for a moment it's very easy for me to remember why I came here in the first place. His lousy son treated me like garbage, and I wanted his whole family to be ruined. Rafferty—the McKennas—didn't become filthy rich by playing by the rules or even by playing nicely.

The urge to open my mouth is suddenly overwhelming. One ‘Yes, Daddy, harder!' would be all it would take. Twenty of the most senior members of his company would have a difficult time un-hearing that.

I take a breath.

But nothing comes out.

Someone else starts talking. Rafferty leaves his microphone on but bends forward to whisper in my ear. I feel the press of his suit against me, the bite of his belt and zipper against my thighs and ass. I remember what our agreement was that we made yesterday.

His business is none of my business. He's been kind and generous to me. We're here for a fun time. I don't want to betray him. I really don't. I'd regret it if I hurt him like that.

As if proving my point further, he caresses the side of my face as he licks the shell of my ear and speaks in such a low tone, I almost miss his words altogether.

"Such a good, perfect boy for Daddy. Pretty doll. I'm going to come in your ass now with everybody listening. I know you can be so good for me and not make a sound, my perfect doll. Just lie there and take Daddy's big, hungry cock."

"Yes, Daddy," I murmur back.

What follows is almost silent. He's careful not to slap against me, but he drives into me deep and fast. His breathing is controlled, but the way his fingers are digging into my hips tell me how wild he's feeling. My cock is trapped between my stomach and the desk, the material from my dress rubbing against it as he plunders my ass.

As he comes, his body goes rigid as his member pulses, shooting his load inside me. The meeting continues. Rafferty clears his throat and interjects, adding some comment about a deadline as he softens inside me. I breathe slowly and carefully through my nose when I feel like I want to lose it.

When Rafferty's done giving his opinion, he reaches over and mutes himself once more.

I can't help but gasp in relief.

In a whirl, he pulls out of me, drops back into his seat, spins me around, and draws me onto his lap. His seed is dribbling out of my hole and onto his pants, and my leaking, throbbing cock bounces between us, red and angry. He looks directly into my eyes as he wraps a lubricated hand around it, ignoring the people talking on the screen behind me.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he mumbles against my neck as he starts to aggressively jerk me off. "You're so perfect, Kiki. That's one of the hottest fucking things I've ever done in my life. Be noisy for me. Tell Daddy you love him. Come. Scream. Be Daddy's good boy."

Like he's flipped a switch, I let go of all my restraint, no longer clinging to my doll state. My head drops back as I wail and thrust into his slippery hand. My climax is building like a tidal wave, but I cling to it, wanting it to grow bigger and bigger until it's all-consuming.

"Yes, Daddy, yes!" I howl over the voices coming from the computer. "So good. I love it. I love you, Daddy. Make me come all over you. Like that. Yes, Daddy. Fuck. Yes!"

As I start to spurt all over his expensive suit, he sucks and bites my neck, marking me like an animal. "Who do you belong to?" he growls against my skin.

"You, Daddy," I cry, tears spilling down my face as I continue to shoot thick, creamy ropes. He milks me until my balls are totally empty and I'm shaking against him, twitching as he continues to play with my over-sensitive cock.

"Mine," he snarls, sucking again on the same spot on my neck. "Daddy's perfect little doll."

The meeting trundles on behind me, the words a distance drone. I cling to my Daddy, our soft cocks rubbing together, our mess smeared all over our clothes.

I gasp, my face still wet with tears, too many emotions tumbling through my brain.

This is a mess, and I don't mean the sweaty, cum-stained state of us.

When did this no-strings-revenge-plot become so complicated? Because I have a feeling that as it stands, I am so far beyond the point of no return.

What am I even doing anymore?

And how am I going to walk away and forget that any of this ever happened?