Warning: Mature Content
“Tell me all your sexual fantasies, princess.”
“I want to be fucked, ruined, choked, and marked until I’m a moaning, crying mess, leaking all over your sheets, daddy.”
Grace’s world shattered the night she found out her fiancĂ© was gay. Drunk, devastated, and desperate to forget, she stumbled into the wrong hotel room, and into the arms of Apollo Reed. He is a sinfully hot, cold-hearted forty-year-old man, twice her age. He’s everything she was never supposed to want. And everything she never knew she needed. But reality hits hard the next morning when she realizes the man who gave her the first orgasm of her life is her new boss.
Will she let him take her again? Please her until she’s trembling, begging, and utterly his? Or will she finally learn that wanting a man like him always comes with a price?
“Good girl. Now spread those legs.”
Please Me, Daddy Chapter 1 My fiancé is gay
Garcia
My fiancé is gay.
That was the thought echoing through my head as I stood there frozen, watching a scene I could never unsee. I stared at the two men in our bed, with Charles lost in a state of abandon I had never seen.
This was my fiancé, the man I was supposed to marry in five days. The man I had shared a bed, a future, a life with for five whole years. But there he was, completely absorbed in an intimacy he had never shown me.
I couldn’t breathe anymore,everywhere felt like it was spinning. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. My eyes stayed locked, watching as if my brain couldn’t register that this was real.
“Oh, Mark… yes,” Charles murmured, and the words hit me like punches to the gut.
My hand flew to my mouth, pressing hard to keep the nausea down. My heart felt like it had been torn from my chest and shoved down a garbage disposal. Was this a nightmare? Was I going to wake up in our apartment, beside him, with his arms around me and none of this real?
The other man’s low response was a muffled grunt I couldn’t fully hear.
Tears burned the back of my eyes. My knees buckled slightly, and I reached out to the doorframe for support. He had never seemed that engaged with me. Our moments were always brief, rushed. Anytime I sought more connection, he would withdraw, citing tiredness or simply turning away.
My mind raced, spiraling out of control.
Is he gay? Bisexual? Has he always been like this? Had he been faking it with me? All these years? Every kiss, every time he said I love you, every plan we made for the future, was it all a lie?
I felt humiliated, sick, and utterly deceived.
How does anyone process this? How do you act when you discover your partner’s profound betrayal days before the wedding?
I felt something wet on my cheeks. My hand lifted, brushing my skin. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.
From the bed, Charles let out a low, final sound.
I shook my head slowly, like maybe if I shook hard enough, I could wake up from this twisted reality. But the sight of them was still there.
I laughed bitterly. “You know what?” I said, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. “You’re really something, Charles.”
They froze and Charles’s head whipped toward me. His eyes stretched wide in panic. He scrambled away, grabbing at the nearest blanket and yanking it over himself.
“G-Gracie…” he stammered, his voice cracking. “What… what are you doing here?”
I pressed harder against the wall, still wiping at the tears with the back of my shaking hand, trying to stay on my feet.
“What am I doing here?” I repeated slowly, meeting his eyes. “That’s the first thing you have to say? After I walk in on this?”
He shook his head, still clutching the blanket. “No. No, it’s not- it’s not what it looks like.”
“Not what it looks like?” My voice rose. “Not what it looks like?!”
I pushed off the wall, legs wobbling, hands balled into fists. “Charles, you’re betraying me. In our bed. In the house we bought for our future. And you have the audacity to tell me it’s not what it looks like? What exactly is it, then?”
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His face crumpled as he looked at me with shame, guilt, and mostly fear.
“You’re a coward,” I hissed. “After everything I’ve done for you. After five years of loyalty, patience, planning our future together, this is what I get? This is who you are when I’m not looking? How could you?”
The other man sat up with a sigh. “This is messy,” he muttered. He started pulling on his clothes. “I don’t want to be in the middle of this, Charles. I’m leaving.”
Charles turned to him, panicked. “Mark, wait- I’m sorry. I didn’t know-“
Mark cut him off with a dismissive wave. “It’s fine.”
That did it. Something inside me snapped. My whole body shook with rage. Why were they acting so casual? He didn’t even look surprised, which meant he knew about me.
“You have no respect!”
I stormed forward, overwhelmed by anger, but before I could reach him, Charles moved fast.
“Stop it, Gracie!” he shouted, grabbing my wrist and holding me back. “What are you doing?!”
“What am I doing?” I spat, eyes blazing. “Let me go! This involves him too!”
I tried to move toward Mark, but Charles stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “Just stop,” he said, his voice tense. “Don’t do this.”
My heart dropped. He was shielding him.
The man he cheated with. The man who now watched with a detached expression.
“Why?” I whispered, stunned. “Why are you protecting him? After what you did to me? Shouldn’t you be trying to make this right?”
Behind Charles, Mark straightened his shirt. Then he looked at me, his gaze cold.
“Why are you so shocked?” he said, shrugging. “Did you honestly think this was about you? Use your head.”
My mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Mark continued, “If it weren’t for external pressures, do you really think you’d be here right now?”
My vision blurred with anger. I could feel the blood roaring in my ears. “Let me go,” I growled through gritted teeth, trying to free my arm. “Let me go, Charles!”
“No!” he barked. “Calm down!”
In my struggle, I shoved against him, and he stumbled back a step. I stepped forward again, but Charles quickly moved between us. In the heat of the moment, his hand came up sharply to block me, making harsh contact with my arm.
“Don’t you touch him!” Charles yelled, his own anger flaring.
Please Me, Daddy Chapter 2 He hurt me
Garcia
He hurt me… to protect him.
I held my arm, stunned in place. The impact felt sharp, but that was not even the real pain. My heart felt like it was about to explode.
I looked up, and our eyes met. His eyes widened, like he had just realized what he had done.
“G-Gracie…” he choked out. “I…”
Tears blurred my vision again; I didn’t even try to stop them. I didn’t know if I was crying because of the blow, or because the man I loved more than anything in the world had just hurt me.
The man who used to open car doors for me. Who rubbed my back when I had cramps. Who once cried when I got food poisoning because he couldn’t stand seeing me in pain.
That Charles had just hurt me to shield the person he was with.
I backed away slowly, breath coming fast-it felt like I couldn’t get enough air. My hands trembled at my sides.
“Gracie, please,” he said, stepping toward me again. “I didn’t mean to. I just-“
“Don’t you dare come closer, Charles!” I screamed.
He flinched and froze, his hand still halfway toward me. He took a step back, his face twisting with guilt.
Mark moved behind him and placed a hand gently on Charles’s back.
“It’s okay, Charles. I know you didn’t want this.”
My chest tightened until it felt like something was crushing it. I looked at the both of them, standing there as if I had intruded on something private, as though I had ruined their moment.
God, it hurt. It hurt so much.
I closed my eyes for a second, trying to catch my breath, to keep myself from collapsing.
I opened my eyes to see Charles staring at me with pity. Mark still had that slight, knowing look on his face. I swallowed the lump in my throat. My voice came out quiet, barely audible. “I just have one question for you, Charles.”
“W-what is it?”
“Are you attracted to women?” My voice cracked. “To me?”
Charles opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Mark sighed. “Do you really need to ask?”
I ignored him, keeping my eyes locked on Charles. His gaze dropped as he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
It was just one word, and I understood immediately. The man I was about to marry in a few days was a gay.
My knees felt weak again. “S-So why? Why would you do this to me? If you knew, why lead me on? Why pretend?”
“I’m sorry, Gracie,” he repeated, as if that could mend the hole in my chest-as if that could explain why the man I trusted most became the one who hurt me the deepest.
“No,” I said, shaking my head, my voice hardening. “Don’t apologize. Just answer the question.”
“You know our families expected us to marry,” Charles suddenly said, his voice low. “When my parents learned about my… true self, they were devastated. They pushed me into this, Gracie. They thought marriage would solve everything. That you would… fix things. I never meant to-“
“Stop it, Charles,” I cut him off.
He flinched. He had probably never seen me like this before.
“Do you really think I’ll feel sympathy for you now? After everything?”
He opened his mouth again, but I didn’t let him speak.
“You used me. I was just a cover for your family-a perfect bride to present to the world. And I loved you. God, I loved you even when you were distant, even when you seemed so far away. I blamed stress, work… anything but the truth. But you knew. You knew from the start.”
I blinked away fresh tears, angry they still fell. “If you had been honest from the beginning… I would have listened. I could have understood. But you lied. You let me fall in love with you. You let me believe we had something real.”
“Don’t blame your parents for everything,” I said. “You made your choices. Don’t hide behind your identity to excuse what you did.”
“I really am sorry,” he murmured, staring at the floor.
I wiped my tears roughly with the back of my hand. “Keep your apologies. I don’t want them.”
My fingers trembled as they touched the ring on my hand. It was our engagement ring. I remembered the night he gave it to me-how I cried, how I kissed him over and over, promising I’d never take it off. Now, I was about to do the very thing I never imagined.
I pulled it off slowly, as if the metal stung, and I dropped it at his feet.
“It’s over between us, Charles,” I said, my voice flat. “I want nothing more to do with you or the life you’ve built on lies.”
Charles shook his head in disbelief. “You can’t do that, Gracie. I know you’re angry, but this… this is a business deal. You know that. Our families-“
I let out a dry laugh. “A business deal.”
So that’s all this had been for him. I was just a business deal.
“Fine, then I’m walking away from your precious business deal. Find someone else willing to sell themselves for your lie. I’m done playing this role.”
I looked him in the eye, and for the first time, I saw fear.
“Seeing you now only brings me pain,” I whispered. “I regret ever believing in us.”
“Gracie-” he started, but I didn’t wait for the next excuse. I turned and walked away, leaving behind the ring, the wedding, the future I thought we shared, and the man who never truly loved me.
Please Me, Daddy Chapter 3 Am I having a dream
Gracia
I stared down at the glass in my hand, watching the amber liquid catch the bar lights.
“So, yeah,” I muttered, the words slurring slightly. “That’s the story of my life.”
I gave a bitter little laugh and tipped the glass toward my lips, feeling the burn all the way down.
“I found out my fiancĂ© was gay, just days before the wedding. And to make it worse,” I added, shaking my head in disbelief. “He actually hurt me. Can you believe that?”
I turned to the bartender, who had paused while wiping a glass, his expression attentive.
“I was in shock. I could only stand there, feeling utterly helpless. I should have done something, said something, instead of just freezing like that.”
The bartender set the glass down slowly. “Woah. When I said I wanted to hear your story, I didn’t think it’d be that heavy.” He let out a low sigh. “I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling right now.”
I set my glass onto the bar with a soft clink, blinking hard. My head spun. The alcohol burned in my throat, and everything felt overwhelming.
I didn’t even remember how I got here. One second, I was walking out of that house, and the next, I was parking outside some random hotel. Instead of booking a room, I went straight to the bar and ordered the strongest drink they had.
Now, most of it was gone. I frowned, picking at the peeling label on the bottle.
God, this is so cliché, I thought miserably. Here I was, heartbroken, drinking alone, and telling my story to a stranger.
I used to think scenes like this in books and movies were overdramatic. I used to wonder why characters couldn’t cope differently. But now, I understood.
When you felt so low, so completely shattered, sometimes numbness seemed like the only temporary relief.
I pushed the glass toward the bartender.
“Imagine this,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Finding out your fiancĂ© has been unfaithful is terrible enough.But finding out he was never attracted to women to begin with? That he loved someone else and was just using you to hide the fact that he’s gay. And then, in the midst of it all, he hurts you while defending the person he chose over you?”
The bartender set his towel down, his expression sober.
“Yeah… that’s a lot for anyone to handle.” He quickly added, “But you’ll get through this. Seriously, you will.”
He took the bottle and poured another measure into my glass. “This one’s on the house. Don’t worry, you’ll find someone who deserves you. Someone much better than that.”
Someone better? I stared at the liquid swirling in the glass. Who was better? I’m twenty-three. I felt like the men I’d known were often immature or didn’t understand what I needed. Maybe I should just go for older men at this point in my life. At least they would know how to satisfy a woman and treat her right.
I picked up the glass and drank it slowly. I set it down and dropped my head into my hands, squeezing my eyes shut. I hated this. I hated this feeling so much.
My phone started ringing, vibrating against the bar counter. I blinked down at it, my vision slightly blurred.
I stared at the caller ID for a long moment. It was my mother. I didn’t want to answer. I already knew how this would go. I could explain everything, I could plead, and it wouldn’t matter. It never had with my family. But some small, fragile part of me still hoped. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe she would listen.
I answered the call. “Mom…”
I didn’t even finish the word before her voice came through the speaker, sharp and angry.
“What is this I’m hearing from Charles’s family?! You called off the engagement? Are you out of your mind? The wedding is in a few days!”
I bit my lip, an old, nervous habit.
“Mom, I… Charles, he-“
“Don’t you dare mumble!” she cut in. I flinched, holding the phone slightly away from my ear.
“I want you to go back there right now,” she commanded. “You fix this! Apologize if you have to! Beg him to take you back!”
For a moment, I was frozen. Staring at my empty glass.
“Mom…” I said, my voice trembling. “How can I go back? Charles… he was with someone else. I saw them.”
There was a pause on her end. For a second, I thought she might understand, but then she let out a dismissive sound.
“And so what?” she scoffed. “Is he the only one? Men stray. It happens. That’s what matters.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the world spin. “I-“
“Your father was no saint,” she said, matter-of-factly. “You don’t hear me making a scene. He provides. That’s the important thing. So think logically, Gracia.”
“You’re our adopted daughter. We can’t support you forever. Charles can. He’ll give you a stable life. Don’t be foolish. Fix this before your father finds out. You know how he gets.”
Right before she hung up, I heard her mutter, “So ungrateful. She should be thankful someone like him wanted to marry her.”
The call ended. I sat there, phone in hand, feeling completely hollow.
The bartender leaned over slightly, his voice gentle. “Are you alright?”
Was I alright? Why didn’t anyone seem to truly care about me? Why did it always hurt?
I wasn’t asking for much. I didn’t need extravagance. I just wanted someone to genuinely care for me. To choose me, and love me honestly. Why was that so impossible? Why did it feel like an impossible request?
My fingers tightened before I forced them to relax. I pushed myself up on unsteady legs.
The bartender made a move as if to help, but I shook my head slightly.
I dug into my bag, pulled out a bill, and left it on the counter. “Keep the change,” I murmured.
Without another word, I turned and walked toward the lobby. The bright lights were harsh. My heels clicked against the floor as I approached the front desk.
“Hi, is there a room available? Something modest, please.”
The receptionist smiled politely. “Good evening. Just a moment, I’ll check for you.”
As I waited, someone stepped up beside me.
“Excuse me,” the man said to the receptionist, adjusting his suit cuff. “I need a spare key for Mr. Reed, please. I’m with his party.”
I barely glanced at him as his phone rang, and he answered.
“Yes, I’m at the desk now,” he said into the phone. “Getting the spare key for Mr. Reed. Making sure everything’s arranged for tomorrow.”
I tuned him out. The receptionist placed two room keys onto the counter. One had the number six. The other had nine.
The man grabbed the one marked nine without looking, still talking on his phone as he walked away.
I took the key labeled six, thanked the receptionist quietly, and made my way toward the elevator.
I leaned against the elevator wall, focusing on staying upright. When the doors opened, I walked down the corridor to the right door.
Room 6.
I fumbled with the key, then finally pushed the door open. The room was spacious and far more luxurious than I had expected for the price.
I frowned. I hadn’t booked a premium room. Maybe there was a mistake? I shrugged. I was too exhausted to deal with it now. It could wait until morning.
I stepped inside, closing the door behind me, and instantly heard the sound of running water.
The shower’s on? Perhaps it was left on by mistake.
Too tired to think much of it, I kicked off my shoes, slipped out of my dress, and left it on a chair.
I stood there for a moment in the lace-trimmed slip I had worn tonight. A wave of sadness hit me, but I pushed it away. I just needed to sleep.
I stumbled over to the large bed and sank onto it. The sheets were soft. I closed my eyes, falling asleep almost instantly, but soon felt something damp on my face.
I frowned, still half-asleep. “What…?”
I forced my eyes open and found myself looking into a pair of surprised, hazel eyes.
A man was standing by the bed, water droplets glistening on his skin. His dark hair was damp. He looked both confused and annoyed. He had a towel wrapped around his waist.
I blinked, trying to process the sight of a stranger in the room.
“Am I… dreaming?” I mumbled, my mind still foggy.