Page 5 of Her Hat Trick Daddies (Game On Daddies #3)

The lace muffles my cries as he quickly shoves them inside my mouth, damp with my arousal.

I should be reeling in shock, but instead, I burn hotter by the thought of them gagging me while they fuck me.

There’s something wild in the gesture, something exquisitely deviant.

The taste of myself. The scent of sex in the air.

The way the men move around me is like a well-rehearsed sin—seamless, savage, and relentless.

It’s raw. It’s ruin. It’s everything I didn’t know I was starving for.

And I don’t want it to end.

Lion pounds into me, my legs locked tight around his waist, and it isn’t long before he lets out a deep and guttural groan, his body damn near convulsing as he spills into the condom. When he pulls out, the sudden emptiness steals my breath.

I’m not done. Not even close. I need more. I need everything.

“You okay, darlin’?” Jester asks.

I nod, breathless. “God. More than okay.”

Wolf unzips his pants, freeing the thick cock inside them, his eyes locked on mine.

He doesn’t rush. Instead, he lifts my leg and drags his cock slowly along my inner thigh, letting his precum paint my skin in teasing strokes.

I thought he wanted to take me hard and fast, but this?

This restraint, this focus, it makes my pulse stutter.

I’ve never been touched like this. Never known my body could be worshipped like this.

They’re not just taking me. They’re savoring me.

Pleasuring me as much as they’re pleasuring themselves.

“You’re next,” he says to Jester, stepping back, fisting his cock.

Jester doesn’t need a second invitation.

His belt is already undone, shirt hanging open over his chest, but in one fluid motion, he drops his pants and shrugs off the button-up, letting everything fall to the floor.

A tattoo curves around his right bicep—bold, unapologetic.

ARMY brATS, inked in all caps, rougher and less polished than Lion’s, but every bit as commanding.

He sheathes himself in a condom, then plunges into me in one savage, unforgiving stroke.

No warning. No buildup. Just raw, filthy need slamming through both of us.

His hands clamp around my ankles, lifting my legs high into a wide, obscene V.

I’m spread open for him, completely exposed, as he drives into me without mercy, fucking me like he’s trying to tear me in half.

And I fucking love it.

He releases my ankles, leans in, slides an arm beneath my back, and hoists me up like I weigh nothing.

My legs wrap around his waist as his cock stays buried deep, thick and stretching, grinding into every nerve.

He strides across the room with me impaled on him, like I’m nothing but a toy in his hands, stopping at a bare wall that doesn’t distract us from rutting out our need.

And when he slams me against it, the shock knocks the air from my lungs, my moan ripping raw and wild from my throat.

He pummels into me, over and over, his hips snapping like a whip.

His mouth roams everywhere, my neck, my breasts, hot and ravenous.

He sucks hard, bites harder, his tongue teasing my nipples as they bounce with every punishing thrust.

I arch into him, hungry, delirious, my nails dragging deep across the sculpted muscles of his back. My other hand grips his hair, yanking him closer, like I’ll drown if I let go. Every motion sends shockwaves through my spine, straight to the molten core between my legs.

“Uh—uhn—fuck, you feel so good inside me,” I gasp, tightening my legs around his waist, trying to pull him impossibly deeper. “Harder.”

His growl vibrates against my chest, primal and possessive. He lifts his head from my breast, eyes burning into mine. “Say that again. You have no fuckin’ idea what that does to me.”

“Harder,” I breathe.

He pulls out just enough to hover at my entrance, his lips twisting into something dark. Dangerous. “Mmm. That’s my good girl.” Then, one hard push . “Now.” Another snap of his hips . “Call me Daddy.” A third punishing thrust .

“Harder, Daddy,” I moan, the words feeling lewd on my tongue… but deliciously so.

That’s all it takes. He breaks. His rhythm turns feral as he pistons into me like he can’t get deep enough…

but every inch of him hits oh so right. He holds me there, suspended, utterly at his mercy, and I’m nothing but a fuck-drunk mess in his arms. And being used like his personal rag doll in this position?

It might just be my favorite kind of ruin.

My mind shatters. And just as my body is about to sing—

A noise outside.

Everything stops. Frozen. Breaths caught. Heart pounding like a war drum. My pulse roars in my ears. Seconds crawl, but no one comes .

We exhale, the moment teetering between danger and desire. And somehow, that tension makes it all the hotter.

Without a word, Jester carries me to a chaise nearby, plush, wide, and more forgiving than the hard desk…

and the wall. He eases me onto my back and doesn’t miss a beat, diving into me again, but this time, his hips roll slower, deeper, more claiming.

The change in texture beneath me makes the sensation of every movement more pronounced.

I moan freely now, my body melting into the cushions as I give him everything.

Wolf steps to the edge of the chaise, his presence dark and commanding, like a storm about to break.

His fingers curl around my throat, firm but careful, applying just enough pressure to make my breath hitch in my lungs.

The sudden control makes my pulse spike, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as a delicious mix of surrender and anticipation floods through me.

“You ready for me?” he growls, his voice low, rough.

My eyes flutter open, seeking his, and when they meet, the look he gives me is pure predatorial. It steals the air from my lungs more than his grip ever could.

“Yes,” I manage under the weight of his grip. And god, I want it . Every fucking second of it. And some deep, devilish instinct tells me I haven’t even scratched the surface with these men.

He wastes no time. He props my head up with a couple of pillows, then guides his leaky cock to my lips, nudging them apart with his needy tip.

His other hand stays steady at my throat, but as I take him in slowly, lips wrapping around his salty heat, he slides his hand around to the back of my neck, the newness of this both foreign and electric.

I’ve never sucked dick before, never even wanted to.

But with them, I want to do everything. It feels naughty, yet… somehow intimate. Fulfilling. Powerful.

I try to mimic what I’ve seen in porn—hollowing my cheeks, swirling my tongue, bobbing slow at first. I must be doing something right, because Wolf lets out a guttural sigh that vibrates down my spine.

“Yeah… just like that,” he rasps, the grip around my neck tightening as he starts to roll his hips, matching the rhythm of my mouth.

I pull back slightly—so does he—and we collide again, a little rough, a little messy.

And man, is he massive. Too thick, too long to take all the way, but I try anyway, needing every inch I can manage.

As he rocks forward again, my eyes catch on the dark smudge just above the base of his cock—right where his sculpted lower abs taper into the hard V of his hips.

A birthmark. Small, cloud shaped, and just noticeable enough to feel like a secret.

Like proof this fierce man is still human… and somehow mine to memorize.

There’s something deeply exhilarating about being filled at both ends. One cock down my throat, another stretching my pussy. Their pleasure bleeds into mine, until I’m not even sure which moan belongs to whom anymore. I’m just a vessel now, floating on this new high.

Jester groans as he finally spills into his condom. “Sorry for the love bites earlier, darlin’. But you taste too damn good. Now you’ve got something to remember me by.”

Wolf releases my neck, his dick slipping out of my mouth. When I glance down, I see the reddish-purple blooms of bruising along my breasts, but I don’t mind. As a matter of fact, a part of me thrills at the sight of him leaving his mark.

As soon as Jester slips off the chaise, breathless and sated, Wolf hurriedly takes his place. He grabs me without hesitation, flipping me onto my stomach with a roughness that makes my heart stutter.

His hands clamp down on my hips, fingers bruising, possessive. And then he lines up that thick, heavy cock, pressing it to my soaked entrance. One slow push, and he stretches me wide, the sheer size of him punching a ragged gasp from my lungs.

Fuck , he’s bigger than the rest. The kind of cock that splits you open and makes you feel every goddamn inch in your lower belly, like he’s rearranging you to make room.

If I were on my back right now, I swear I’d see the outline of him bulging through my stomach, sliding in and out like he’s trying to leave his mark from the inside out.

He bottoms out with a grunt, and then he starts to move, grinding deep, dragging his length through me with deliberate, merciless rolls of his hips.

Every thrust drives me forward into the cushion, my clit rubbing just right against the velvet below, sending sparks of white-hot pleasure ricocheting through me.

I can’t do anything but take it. I’m nothing but a moaning mess—cock-drunk, boneless, trembling beneath him.

“Damn, baby. You’re so fucking tight for me,” he growls, voice husky. “And taking all of me so well.”

And the way he says it makes me clench around him, needy and aching. He fucks me harder in response, slamming into me like he wants to leave his shape inside me.

Every grind sparks fire in my core. Every drag of my clit against the cushion pulls me closer to the edge.

The pressure builds fast, a slow burn erupting into a full-blown blaze.

I writhe beneath him, my mouth open in a silent scream, moans muffled into the soft velvet.

I’m trembling, barely able to hold myself up as the climax hits, dizzying and all-consuming.

My body jerks against his, limbs going weak, helpless under the force of my release.

But he doesn’t stop. He fucks me through it, pounding deeper like he’s chasing the aftershocks, pulling every last drop of pleasure from me until I’m nearly mewling like a kitten.

The chaise is drenched, slick with the mess of my orgasm.

And then he follows, grunting low, driving into me one final time as his cum floods me in thick, hot waves.

It gushes out around him, spilling down my thighs and pooling beneath us, a beautiful mess.

My pussy clenches greedily around him, milking him, desperate to keep every last drop buried deep .

The cushion is ruined, stained with the mix of us, and I couldn’t care less.

Off to the side, Jester strokes himself, coaxing his cock back to full mast, his eyes locked on me like prey.

Lion kneels beside me, fingers combing through my hair, whispering filth into my ear—nasty little promises that I wish he could make good on.

His voice is deep, dark velvet, and the sound of it paired with the lingering aftershocks sends a shiver straight through my bones.

Suddenly, another noise reverberates outside, this time much closer.

We scramble. They dress me quickly and carefully, and once the coast is clear, they escort me to a nearby bathroom. I splash cool water onto my flushed skin, my heart still racing.

Is it wrong that I loved every second of what just happened? This should be soaked in shame, screaming guilt, but I don’t feel either. Instead, I feel relieved. Sated. Wrapped in a strange, decadent calm. Utterly at peace.

Is this how Ava felt in the beginning? Caught between the thrill of the forbidden and the weight of what it meant? And then, eventually, surrendering to it completely—choosing the pleasure, the power, the freedom? I let out a low chuckle and mumble, “I feel you, girl.”

God, I want more. Every part of my body wishes for more nights with them.

But I can’t. I head back home to Jersey the day after tomorrow.

And in no version of reality does this continue.

I knew exactly what I was getting into the second I started flirting with those irresistible masked men. This was fast, not forever.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” Jester calls through the door a moment later.

Understanding what I need to do, I steady my breath and reply, “More than okay. You three can go. Really.”

I hear the low rumble of voices outside the door. They pause. Someone starts to say something but stops short, the words swallowed by hesitation. The unspoken offer to stay lingers in the silence like a cloud of smoke.

“You were amazing, sweetheart,” Lion says. “We probably won’t see you again, but… I gotta know what we can call you. For when we remember tonight.”

Fair enough, since I gave them names of my own based on their masks. I look at my reflection in the mirror. A smirk curls at the corners of my lips. Red dress. Secret room. Three sexy men. “Call me Phoenix.”

“Best night of my life, Phoenix,” Wolf murmurs, his tone dripping with praise.

“Same.” I smile at myself, still catching my breath.

Then, finally, footsteps fade into the distance.

Ten minutes later, when I feel confident I don’t look like I just lost a fight with a lawnmower, I emerge from the bathroom.

I don’t see Lion, Jester, or Wolf anywhere.

And although I allowed them to leave me behind, my heart drops when I can’t find them.

Suddenly, the mansion feels too big, too quiet .

I pull my phone out to see a text from Eric that was sent about five minutes ago.

Eric : Are you ready to head out?

Me : Yeah. Meet you out front.

I know what tonight was meant to be. And, more importantly, what it wasn’t. No names. No numbers. No promises. Just chemistry, heat, and intrigue sparking behind our masks.

It was supposed to be simple.

But as I step out into the night air, my panties damp, my skin still tingling from every touch, every whispered moan, it doesn’t feel simple at all. My body aches in the best possible way, but it’s my heart that catches me off guard, tight with something I can’t quite name.

That was more than just sex. It was electric. Raw. Unapologetically forbidden. And now… I don’t think I’ll ever look at pleasure the same way again.