Page 19 of Her Hat Trick Daddies (Game On Daddies #3)

Leighton

I ’m floating—no, soaring —on waves of pure ecstasy.

The world around me dissolves until I can’t tell where I end and the pleasure begins.

I don’t know who I am anymore, or where I am.

All I know is the heat pulsing through me—deep, consuming, electric—rippling from the center of my body out to my limbs, which feel weightless and numb.

If he weren’t holding me up, I’d be a melted mess, sticky-sweet like hot fudge dripping over ice cream right here on this hard floor.

And still, I want more. That fire, the one I thought had gone out years ago, suddenly roars back to life inside me. It’s wild and bright and alive, and I know with every ounce of my being that no one else could’ve lit it.

Only them. And right now, him .

The man behind the Jester mask. The one who calls himself Daddy when no one’s watching. Just the thought of that name in his voice sends a fresh wave of heat crashing through me. This isn’t just hot. It’s dangerously hot. The kind of moment that leaves marks.

And still… what the hell is wrong with me? In a locker room, of all places. Again, not a bedroom. Why am I like this?

But then I remember… I’ve had him before. I know exactly what he can do. What he did to me. And now, knowing who he really is? There was never a chance I wouldn’t give in.

Yet, he has no idea. And somehow, that little secret makes my pulse race faster.

I’m still trembling, lost in that delicious haze, when Andy rises from his squat and reaches into his pocket. I watch, barely breathing, as he rips open a foil wrapper and rolls the condom down his thick length.

And what a length it is.

It’s not just impressive, it’s fucking gorgeous. Long, thick, with just the right kind of veiny that I never knew I’d find so insanely sexy until right now. Until him. And the slight curve to the left…

I didn’t notice it back at the mansion. Not in the dark when he had me pinned to the wall, my legs wrapped tight around his waist. But now? Now I see it clearly, and suddenly everything makes sense. That ruthless precision. The way he nailed that perfect spot again and again, like it was nothing.

He grabs a towel from his locker and spreads it out on the floor. But we don’t use it. Instead, he sits down on the bench like a king claiming his throne, and pulls me into his lap like I belong there. My knees straddle his thick thighs, his cock standing proud between us, flushed and pulsing.

God, yes.

I sink down onto him in one long, greedy push, and the gasp that tears from my throat is nothing short of shameless.

It’s not pain. I take him. But that stretch?

That pressure? It’s bliss. Blinding, body-shaking bliss.

That perfect curve of his cock drags along my G-spot, lighting it up like a pinball machine.

“Eyes on me while you take every inch,” he growls. “I want to see your face as you stretch around me.”

I nod.

“Mmm. You’re so fucking tight for me.”

His hands grip my ass, pulling me down harder, bouncing me on his cock like I’m his personal toy. And maybe I am.

“Y-yes,” I whimper, barely able to speak through the pressure building inside me.

His eyes darken. A low, guttural sound rumbles from his chest. “You’re mine. Every moan. Every gasp. Every drip. The way you’re clenching around my cock, begging for more like such a good girl.”

Damn right I am. I’ve missed this. Missed them.

“I’m all yours, Daddy,” I breathe, bouncing harder, riding him with everything I’ve got. He meets every thrust with one of his own, kissing me with teeth and tongue on my lips, my neck, and my breasts, leaving his mark on them .

I barely have time to recover from the last orgasm before this one barrels through me, fast and brutal, stealing my breath, robbing my thoughts. I bury my face in Andy’s neck, crying out against his skin, my whole body tightening as I come apart on him.

“Fuck,” he grits. “You feel so good when you come on my cock.”

He lifts me like I weigh nothing, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, arms locking tight around his shoulders. His cock slips free, and the loss is unbearable, leaving me hollow and desperate to be filled again.

But he’s not done.

He lowers me gently onto the towel, squatting beside me like a man with intent .

“Did the bench hurt your knees, darlin’?” he asks, voice quieter now, but no less commanding.

I blink, caught off guard by the softness in his tone. After everything he just did to me, after the way he used my body like I was just a fuck doll… he still cares? This towering six-foot-four-inches, 240-pound man has a gentle side?

I shake my head. “No.”

“This floor too hard?” His gaze stays locked on mine. There’s fire in those green eyes, but there’s also something that looks a hell of a lot like concern.

My heart trips. “No,” I whisper, dazed .

He nods once. “Good.” Then, like a man possessed, his voice drops, husky and low. “Because now, I want you under me.”

And this is it. This is the moment I know I’ll never get enough of this man. And I reach for him, fingers threading into his hair, pulling him down into a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth and hunger.

He kisses me back like he owns me. Rough, greedy, his. Then, he spreads my legs wide and slams into me with one hard, claiming push.

I cry out, my head snapping back as his towering six-foot-four frame crashes down over me, pinning me beneath him in the best fucking way.

I arch up instinctively as his weight presses down, trapping me right where I want to be, helpless under all that hard muscle and heat.

His chest crushes to mine, smothering me in, his arms caging me in so tight it feels like I can’t escape even if I wanted to.

One big hand finds my wrists and slams them over my head, holding me down with a bruising grip that makes my pussy clench hard around him.

He fucks me deep, each ruthless thrust of his hip making my eyes roll back, each stroke a filthy claim.

The wet, obscene slap of skin on skin echoes around us, addictive.

And every time he grinds in further, bottoming out, my whole body shudders, desperate for more.

All I can do is hold on .

“Look at me,” he growls, voice clipped, commanding. “This time, I want those pretty eyes on me when you make that sweet mess on my cock.”

His breath burns against my cheek. “Yeah, that’s it,” he pants, as he pounds into me. “Look at you, taking me so well.”

And by the time he groans, I’m not even sure I can walk. Pretty sure I won’t. Not anytime soon.

His words send me spiraling higher. I’m already right there, hanging on by a thread, and then I feel it. His whole body stiffens, muscles lock tight, and a rush of heat floods me. Even through the condom, I feel it.

“Ahhh…” His moan vibrates straight through me, and we collapse together, sweaty, gasping, hearts beating in sync. I’m trembling beneath him, every nerve lit up like it’s still happening.

He brushes a kiss against my cheek. “Well,” he huffs, grinning through the aftershocks, “that was one hell of an interview.”

And just like that, the spell breaks. His words hit me like a bucket of ice water, dragging me straight out of my pleasure-drunk haze.

Interview.

Jesus.

Regret slices through the euphoria like a skate blade.

I shove him off me and scramble up, still naked except for my damn heels, panic bubbling hot and fast in my chest. Shit .

“Did I do something wrong?” Andy asks, looking genuinely confused, worried, even.

“No… yes. I don’t know,” I blurt out, shaking my head as I snatch for my clothes. “Look at what we just did.”

And I can see it hit him, too. That slow dawning of reality as he starts pulling his clothes back on, eyes flicking away.

My hands shake as I grab my crisp, professional suit, the one I picked specifically to keep things above board, and yank it back on like I’m racing against time. That’s when I realize—

My panties are missing.

And I know exactly where they are. Oh, no. They’re not lost.

Andy smirks, pats the pocket of his pants, and hits me with a wink that's pure trouble. “Thanks for these, darlin’.”

God. I don’t have the energy, or the sanity, to fight him on it. I just focus on getting dressed as fast as possible, smoothing my hair down in the nearest mirror, my hands shaking so bad I can barely keep hold of my notes.

Then there’s a knock on the door, followed by the unmistakable jingle of keys.

“Is anyone in there?” a man’s voice calls out.

Shit.

“Yeah, I’ll be right out,” Andy yells, signaling me to slip into the corridor leading to the storage area.

“What do I do?” I whisper .

“Has to be good ol' Max from maintenance. I’ll lead him to the shower area and fake a clogged drain. Then you sneak out,” he explains, voice low.

"Fine." I head that way and peek around the corner. Seriously, it's come to this? I can't believe I'm sneaking around like a kid trying to hide from her parents.

He moves quickly to the door and opens it. “Oh, hey Max. Didn’t realize I locked this thing. Was on the phone. Distracted, probably.” He flashes a smile, trying to play it cool.

Max scrunches his face, arms crossed over his chest. “Right. After all these years with the team, that’s the best you’ve got? I’m sixty, son. You ain’t fooling anyone with that excuse.”

Andy smirks but holds his ground. As he leads Max toward the showers, I rush out, desperate to look composed but absolutely dying inside.

I lock myself in the nearest restroom, gripping the sink so hard my knuckles go white. I stare down at the basin, chest heaving, trying to steady my breath.

What the actual fuck was I thinking?

Sleeping with the captain of the team was bad enough. But adding the right-wing forward too? Sure, I needed to confirm my suspicions about who fathered Luna, but this ? This was the dumbest way imaginable to go about it. I let my raging hormones and dusty bits take over.

I lift my gaze to my reflection and grunt out loud. My face is flushed, hair wild, eyes too bright .