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Daddy’s Dirty Secret Novel Cover

Daddy’s Dirty Secret

In Daddy’s Dirty Secret, two young women fall under the spell of men they should never want. Broke art student Evie accepts Professor Julian Voss’s scholarship bargain: be his exclusive nude muse in his secluded studio, obey without question, and let him pose, touch, and take her. As their sessions spiral into obsession, he casts her body in bronze and vows to breed his legacy into her. Meanwhile, nineteen-year-old Harper is caught by Marcus—her best friend’s commanding forty-eight-year-old father—who demands she call him Sir and follow his rules. Both risk everything for the rush of being owned and ruined by the one man they can never have.
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Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

No Clothes

Julian stepped back a little from the chaise and looked at me lying there for a long time under the changing lights.

His eyes moved slowly over my naked body, taking in the clay he had pressed onto my collarbone, waist, and hips.

I stayed in the pose with one arm stretched above my head and the other resting on my thigh, my legs slightly open.

My tits rose and fell fast with every breath and my pussy felt even wetter from all the touching and staring.

He shook his head slowly. “The current pose still does not capture the deep surrender I want for the exhibition,” he said, his voice low and serious. “It needs more. You signed the contract, Evie.

The scholarship and the stipend depend on your full cooperation. If you leave now, everything will be cancelled. Do you understand that?”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding loud in my chest. My nipples were still rock hard and my pussy lips felt swollen and slick against the velvet.

“I understand,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “I signed it. I need the money. I won’t leave.”

Julian walked closer to the chaise, his eyes dark. “Good. Then trust me for the art.

I’m going to remove the last piece so you are completely naked with nothing covering any part of you.”

He reached down and slowly pulled away the tiny bit of fabric that was still somehow draped across my lower belly, the last scrap that had been hiding anything.

Now I was fully naked on the velvet chaise, every inch of my skin exposed under the lights.

My tits, my hard nipples, my smooth shaved pussy with its puffy wet lips all of it on display for him.

He stepped back again and picked up his pencil, sketching me quietly for many long minutes.

The studio stayed silent except for the soft scratch of the pencil on paper and my own quick breathing.

I lay there feeling the weight of his stare on my tits and between my legs. My clit throbbed steadily and more wetness leaked out of my pussy onto the chaise.

“It feels so exposing like this,” I said softly, my voice breathy. “You can see every detail of my pussy now. The lips, the way they’re wet and open a little. I can feel you looking right at it.”

Julian kept sketching, his tone calm but rough around the edges. “That’s exactly what I need.

Light and shadow on your naked body. Showing every hidden part.

Your nipples are tight and dark. Your cunt lips are glistening. Keep your legs just like that, slightly spread.

Let me capture how your body looks when it has no choice but to surrender to the pose.”

I nodded, my cheeks burning hot. My free hand on my thigh twitched like it wanted to cover myself but I kept it still.

“My pussy is getting wetter the longer you stare,” I admitted, my breath catching. “I can feel it dripping. This is so dirty, lying here naked while you draw my spread cunt like it’s art.”

He finally put the pencil down and came forward once more.

With both hands he gently but firmly spread my legs a little wider, then tilted my hips upward with a strong grip on my pelvis.

The new angle lifted my pussy higher, opening my folds even more so he could see straight into my slick entrance.

His fingers stayed on my hips, warm and possessive, as he adjusted the pose. “Like this,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Your body offered up to the sculpture.

I need to see the full vulnerability the way your cunt opens when it’s tilted like this, the curve of your ass, the tremble in your thighs.”

A soft moan slipped out of me before I could stop it. His hands on my hips felt so strong and sure.

“Professor… your hands are right there on my hips, so close to my pussy,” I whispered, my voice thick with lust.

“I can feel the air on my wet hole now. It’s embarrassing how soaked I am. You’re making me ache just by positioning me like this.”

Julian held the pose, his thumbs pressing lightly into the soft skin near my pussy mound.

“Good. Let that ache show. Your body is reacting honestly. Your clit is swollen and peeking out. Your inner lips are shiny with your juices.

This is the deep surrender the exhibition needs a young woman’s body completely open and unable to hide how turned on she is.”

He kept his hands on me, making tiny adjustments to the tilt of my hips, his fingers brushing the crease where my thigh met my pussy.

“Stay exactly like this. Don’t close your legs. I want to see how long you can hold it while your cunt drips for the art.”

I lay there on the chaise, completely naked, legs spread wider, hips tilted up so my pussy was fully on display.

My tits heaved with every breath, nipples aching. My pussy throbbed visibly under his stare and more slickness kept leaking out.

My mind raced with raw thoughts how much older he was, how completely he controlled the pose, how badly my body wanted his hands to slide higher and touch my clit or push inside me.

But I stayed still, breathing fast, letting him look and adjust because the contract and the money and the dirty thrill kept me pinned there.

Julian studied me for another long moment, his hands still resting on my hips, fingers warm against my skin.

“The light is hitting your exposed cunt perfectly now,” he said quietly.

“But I need even more surrender in the next adjustment. This pose is close, but we’re not there yet.”

I nodded, my pussy clenching hard at his words, already anticipating what he would do next with those strong hands.

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