My Bestie's Dad Likes Me Wet-Chapter 50 HIS

NOVA POV

It had been so long since I came for the man who haunted my dreams. And now that fantasy was breathing against my skin, I refused to ruin it with the shadow of anyone else.

My brain screamed at me to clear the air, but my dripping cunt made the choice for me.... common sense didn’t stand a chance

His pace quickened, mercilessly until every muscle in my body locked tight. My climax ripped through me, sharp and violent, and he caught me when my legs gave out, holding me pinned against the wall while I shattered in his arms.

He didn’t stop even after my mind blowing orgasm . His lips pressed to my ear, his hand still moving slow and lazy between my thighs, prolonging the aftershocks until I whimpered his name again.

"Say it," he demanded, voice rough with need. "Say who you belong to."

I swallowed, shaky, my body betraying me all over again as I clung to him.

"...You," I whispered, so faint I almost hated myself.

Grant’s growl vibrated against my skin. "That’s my girl."

His growl hadn’t faded when his hand left me empty, slick with my release. My body sagged in relief, and hunger for more, and then stiffened when I heard the sound of fabric tearing.

I gasped, looking down in disbelief as his fist tore clean through the seam of my Mystique costume, the thin blue fabric splitting with brutal ease.

"Grant!" I hissed, clutching at his shoulders, scandal and arousal crashing into me at once. What would I tell my friends? How do

I leave this club naked?

His mouth found mine again before I could voice my opinion, hot and bruising against my lips he silenced the protest.

His words spilled against my lips, rough and final.

"You don’t need a mask, baby. You don’t need to play dress-up for me. I want the real you and I’ll rip every inch of this costume off if that’s what it takes."

His hands shoved the ruined fabric aside until the cool air hit my bare skin. My nipples peaked instantly, my chest rising and falling too fast.

"You’re insane," I whispered, even as my thighs parted for him without a fight.

"Maybe." His fingers hooked into my panties, tearing them the same way, a savage sound that made my whole body jolt. "But you like me like this."

Before I could respond, his cock pressed hard against my entrance, only his zipper holding him back. My eyes flew wide, breath catching, but I still gave a small nod and that was all it took. He shoved his slacks down just far enough to free himself.

It was the same sight I’d gotten off to a hundred times in my head, but in reality it was so much worse—so much better. Thick. Hot.

Already slick with precum, exactly how I craved it. And in the split second before heat won out, my mind betrayed me with the thought of the birth control pills I’d stopped taking after months without sex.

My stomach knotted tight.

"Last chance, Nova," he rasped, his tip sliding against me, slicking in my wetness. "Tell me to stop."

The word perched on my tongue, but when he rolled his hips just enough to nudge inside, my body betrayed me again as it arched and clenched taking him in without hesitation.

"Fuck—" His curse tore through the noise of the club, passionate and raw, as he slammed inside in one hard thrust.

I cried out alongside him, nails digging into his back as my body stretched around him, filled to the hilt in one brutal stroke.

"Grant—oh God—"

"Say it," he demanded, his hips snapping against mine, the bar digging into my back with each thrust. "Say you’re mine."

Every word rattled through me with his rhythm, each slam harder, deeper, until I was gasping, clawing, desperate.

His hand wrapped around my throat to tilt my head back, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes were molten and locked on mine like he wanted to carve his name into my soul.

"You don’t belong to Luca. You don’t belong to this fucking world. You belong to me."

He slammed deeper, grinding hard against my clit, and my answer ripped out of me with a scream.

"Yes! Fuck—yes, Grant!"

His jaw clenched, satisfaction dark and sharp cutting through his features. "That’s it, baby. Take me. Take all of me."

The costume clung in tatters around my waist, my breasts bouncing free against his chest, his cock driving so deep I swore I felt him in my lungs. The bass of the club, the voices, all of it blurred into nothing but his growls and my cries.

"Look at you," he panted, biting down on one of my bouncing breasts, leaving a mark that burned. "Perfectly ruined just like I love it. You’re all mine."

I tightened around him, the pressure coiling and spiraling in circles as my body breaks apart in waves I couldn’t stop. My climax hit like a bullet, clawing me open, wracking me with shudders as I screamed his name against his lips.

Grant groaned, his thrusts brutal, relentless, until he spilled inside me with a curse, grinding deep, holding me pinned against the wall while he filled me to the brim.

For a long second, neither of us moved and his cock still pulsed inside me, my ruined costume hanging off me like torn skin.

Finally, he leaned close, his words soothing against my ear and frailing nerves.

"No more running, Nova. You can lie to yourself all you want. But after this?" His teeth grazed my earlobe. "You’re mine and you know it."

And I hated myself for the way my body shivered in agreement. But I nodded softly in agreement

My legs were still trembling when his weight shifted off me, leaving me flushed and ragged against the wall.

Grant stayed inside me a second longer, like he was making sure I’d remember exactly who I belonged to when I tried to breathe without him. Then he finally pulled out slowly, dragging a curse from both of us.

Before I could speak, before I could even fix my ruined costume, a hard knock banged against the side door reminding us we’re not in the comfort of our room.

"Yo—this section’s for staff only—anyone still in there?" a voice shouted over the music.

My heart leapt into my throat and panic flooded through me, as I scrambled for the scraps of my Mystique outfit, tugging them over my chest, but they hung uselessly in tatters against my exposed skin.

Grant didn’t panic. The bastard never panics.

Instead, he shrugged off the black dress shirt he had on, and draped it over me in one smooth motion. The fabric was still warm from his body as it swallowed me, smelling like his cologne and smoke.

"Breathe, baby," he murmured, voice low, calm. "No one touches you. No one is allowed to see you in this state unless I allow it."

The door handle rattled again, and I froze. But Grant didn’t rush.

He adjusted the shirt on me, buttoning only the middle so it slid off my shoulder, deliberately making me look like his. Then, like it was nothing, he grabbed my hand.

"Time to disappear," he said.

"What—" I whispered, eyes wide.

The voices on the other side of the door grew louder, footsteps approaching, but Grant only pulled me tighter against his side, his trousers slung low on his hips, every tattoo on his hard firm chest was on full display.

"Stay close," he ordered, his lips brushing my ear. "I’m getting you out of here."

And just like that, we vanished into the night with me wrapped in his shirt, him walking bare-chested and unbothered, like he’d dared the world to stop him

He didn’t release my hand. Didn’t let me catch my breath. Just kept leading me toward the sleek black car waiting in the shadows of the alley.

"Grant—" my voice cracked, too many questions clawing up my throat.

He opened the back door, turned, and caught my chin between his fingers, tilting my face up until my eyes locked on his. His gaze was fire, ice, and something terrifyingly certain.

"Tonight wasn’t just me giving you the hard, filthy fuck you’ve been starving for," he said, voice low and edged with danger. His gaze pinned me in place. "You’ve got it wrong, Nova."

My pulse hammered, the weight of his words and my actions sank in.

I’d just fucked another man while bound by an agreement to fake-date someone else.

"This wasn’t the beginning." His mouth brushed the shell of my ear, his voice a low threat. "This was the warning."

"No." The word ripped out of me before he could finish, sharp and trembling all at once. "This can’t happen again. It was a mistake.

I froze at the open car door, breath hitching, my heart thundering like it wanted to bolt out of my chest.

Grant’s head tilted, his eyes narrowing, like he was dissecting every lie in my tone. Then his lips curled, slow, dangerous, the kind of smirk that promised ruin.

"A mistake?" His laugh was dark, humorless. He stepped closer, his chest bare, tattoos catching the flicker of the alley lights. His heat rolled into me, suffocating, magnetic. "That’s not what your body was screaming a minute ago."

"Grant—" My protest died in my throat when he pressed me back against the sleek metal of the car.

His hand gripped my jaw, forcing my chin up until I had no choice but to meet his eyes. They burned through me, searing away every excuse, every shaky denial.

"Tell me again this was a mistake," he said, his voice low, brutal. His hips pressed forward, pinning me against the car door so I felt every hard line of him through his slacks.

"Or should I bend you right here, Nova? make you remember exactly who this pussy belongs to?"