Touch Me , Daddies

“Look at me,” he said quietly.

The words alone were enough to steal the breath from her lungs.

Hands steadied her one firm at her throat, not squeezing, just anchoring her there. Another presence lingered closer, unhurried and devastating, while a third voice curled around her thoughts, soft and dangerous all at once.

Three of them.

Surrounding her.

Claiming the space she stood in until there was nothing left of the world beyond their shadows.

The room felt alive dark, heavy, charged with something she couldn’t escape. Silk sheets tangled beneath her, warmth clinging to her skin as sensation blurred her thoughts and sent her pulse spiraling.

“She’s already trembling,” Asher murmured near her ear. His voice was cool, controlled, the kind that never wavered. The kind that watched everything.

“Not yet,” he warned softly. “You wait.”

His fingers pressed just enough to remind her she wasn’t alone. That she was seen. That she was no longer in control.

Levi’s presence grounded her steady, possessive, impossible to ignore. Every movement drew another shaky breath from her, another quiet sound she couldn’t stop.

And then there was Kai.

The one who spoke in murmurs meant only for her. The one who didn’t touch at first, but unraveled her anyway.

“Let go,” he whispered. “You don’t have to fight it.”

She tried to answer. Truly.

But her body betrayed her, arching as sensation crested too fast, too strong, stealing the words from her mouth.

A sharp warning touch pulled her back from the edge.

“What did I say?” Asher breathed. Calm. Commanding. “You don’t fall apart until I allow it.”

Tears slipped free whether from the intensity or the ache of wanting more, she couldn’t tell. Only that every part of her strained toward them, caught between restraint and surrender.

“She’s gone,” Kai murmured, almost amused. “She doesn’t even realize it yet.”

Asher’s hand slid away, possessive and final.

“Now,” he said.

And the world shattered.

She came undone in their hold overwhelmed, breathless, completely unmade until there was nothing left but the echo of her heartbeat and the certainty that she would never be the same again.

⸻

~TWELVE HOURS EARLIER ~

IVY’S POV

The smell of burnt coffee was the first sign that the day would be hell.

I darted behind the bakery counter, breathless and sweating. My shirt clung to my skin, and I knew I looked like a mess with my crinkled apron, smudged mascara, and a split-second away from an emotional breakdown.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Delia,” I said, tying my apron with shaking hands. “The bus was late, and then my sister missed her school ride and—”

Delia’s eyes cut into me like knives. She didn’t care. She never did.

“That’s the third time this week, Ivy,” she said coldly. “The third. I have zero staff, a late birthday order, and now you show up looking like you rolled out of a ditch somewhere.”

My cheeks burned. “I know. I just, please, I need this job. Just let me make it right.”

“No. You need to grow the f*ck up,” she snapped. “You’re twenty-one, not fifteen. This isn’t a charity organization. You’re fired.”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. My heart plummeted straight to my stomach.

“Delia, please. I’ll stay late. I’ll do inventory—”

“Out.Now.”

She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. Her words sliced through me like broken glass.

The bell above the bakery door jingled as I stepped outside, the sunlight too bright and the air too cruel for how humiliated I felt.

Fired.

Again.

I’d already been juggling three jobs, and this one was the only place that paid weekly in cash. Without it, I couldn’t afford groceries, let alone my sister’s school meals or Nana’s pills.

I blinked hard. No tears. Not yet.

I just needed to get home.

⸻

I unlocked the apartment door quietly, hoping to make it to the bathroom before the sob in my throat exploded.

But something was off.

The couch was moving.

Rhythmic. Slow. And then—

“Oh yeah, baby… just like that.”

“Yes, Jamal f*ck me harder ‘

A woman’s moan.

“ You like it when I f*ck you hard?”

“Oh yessss… yesss Jamal “

My stomach dropped.

I stepped forward, heart in my throat.

There they were.

Jamal. My boyfriend of almost three years.

And some tan, busty, half-dressed girl bouncing on top of him like she paid rent here.

Her hands were pressed against his chest. His hands were all over her. Her bra dangled from one arm, and his shorts were halfway down.

I froze in the doorway.

He didn’t even notice me at first. Not until she moaned his name loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood.

“Jamal,” I croaked.

His eyes shot open.

The girl turned her head.

“Oh sh*t,” she said, scrambling to grab her top.

Jamal stood up like he’d seen a ghost. “Ivy..baby..this..it’s not what you think.”

My voice was hollow. “Really? Because it looks like your d*ck is still inside her.”

“Listen..listen she came onto me,” he stammered. “You’ve been so stressed lately, always working, never home—”

“I’ve been feeding your daughter,” I said, my voice rising. “Paying your rent. Covering your mom’s utilities. And you thank me by screwing this—this influencer on my d*mn couch?”

“Baby, don’t overreact.”

That did it.

I didn’t scream.

I didn’t cry.

I just picked up the remote, chucked it at his head, and walked out the front door because if i didn’t,i may as well commit murder.

⸻

Outside, I stood on the curb in my ugly bakery uniform, my phone at 2% battery, and absolutely no clue what to do next.

One job gone.

One boyfriend gone.

One life… in ashes.

That’s when I saw him.

A man in a black suit, sweating under the sun like he’d been waiting for something.

I didn’t think. I just acted.

I pulled a half bottle of water from my bag and walked over.

Anything to take my mind of the ditch I was in now.

“Here,” I said. “You look like you need this more than I.”

He blinked at me, surprised. “You sure?”

I smiled. It was probably cracked and broken. “Yeah. I’m used to giving things I don’t have.”

He took the bottle slowly, watching me like I was something strange and precious.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Ivy.”

He nodded. “Nice to meet you, Ivy.”

I walked away.

I didn’t realize that was the moment my life would change forever.

Didn’t know he would come back.

Didn’t know he’d bring two others.

Didn’t know that by the end of the night, I’d be in their bed, legs spread, body wrecked, mind broken in the most delicious ways.

IVY’S POV

The music was too loud.

The drinks were too strong.

And I was way too sober for any of this.

I stood at the edge of the dance floor like I didn’t belong,and I probably didn’t. Not really.

I hadn’t come here to party. Or flirt. Or find someone new.

I came to forget.

The dress clung to me like a secret I wasn’t ready to tell. Red. Tight. Dangerous. It was my “revenge b*tch era outfit ” that was carefully locked away in my closet. No bra. No straps. Just curves and a dangerously high sl*t that revealed more thigh than I was used to showing in public.

I didn’t wear makeup. Didn’t have the time, or the energy, or the emotional bandwidth to paint a new version of myself.

Just a clear gloss on my lips and a prayer that the low lighting would hide the war going on behind my eyes.

The heels pinched. The room spun. And my heart hadn’t stopped aching since