Chapter 13: Letty's Ultimatum
The heavy stillness of the house shattered with the slam of a door. Footsteps, hard and angry, came down the hall. Dom didn’t stop. He drove into Izzy with a deep, relentless rhythm, her body jolting forward with each thrust. The bedframe groaned against the wall in a tired, familiar complaint. Izzy’s hands were fisted in the sheets, her face turned to the side, eyes half-closed, watching the ghostly playback on the nightstand screen where a different version of her father emptied himself inside her.
Their bedroom door burst open.
Letty stood silhouetted in the hallway light, her posture rigid, her breath coming in sharp gusts. Her eyes swept the scene: Izzy on hands and knees, the pale globes of her ass marked with red handprints, Dom behind her, his powerful back muscles coiled and slick with sweat, his hips pistoning. The video. The smell—musky, intimate, thick—rolled out to meet her.
“Dom.” Her voice was a whip-crack. “I saw everything.”
Dom froze, his cock buried to the hilt inside his daughter. He turned his head, just enough to see Letty over his shoulder. His expression was calm, unreadable, save for a flicker of dangerous annoyance in his eyes. Izzy didn’t move, save for a slow, deliberate clench around him, making him grit his teeth.
“The door was closed, Letty,” Dom said, his voice a low rumble.
“The whole damn house heard you! And I found this.” She held up a small, discarded external hard drive, the one he’d forgotten to lock away. “I plugged it in. I saw the files. All of them. The… the piss, the fucking fist, Dom. What the fuck is wrong with you? With both of you? You’re sick!”
Izzy let out a soft, breathy laugh into the mattress.
Dom pulled out slowly, the wet sound obscenely loud in the sudden quiet. His cock, slick and gleaming, stood rigid against his belly. He turned to face Letty, not bothering to cover himself. His nakedness was a weapon, a statement of utter, unashamed possession.
“This is our life,” he said, taking a single step forward. His tone was final, leaving no room for debate. “It’s not a discussion. It’s not a problem to be solved. You either accept it, or you get the fuck out of my house. For good this time.”
Letty’s jaw tightened. Her eyes, blazing with betrayal and disgust, darted from Dom’s face to Izzy’s body. The anger was there, volcanic. But beneath it, in the slight hitch of her breath, in the way her eyes lingered on the slick evidence of their coupling, something else stirred. A dark, forbidden curiosity. She had seen the videos. She had watched this girl, this woman she’d half-raised, take things into her body Letty could scarcely imagine. And Dom… Dom had been a god in those videos, brutal and worshipped.
Izzy moved. She crawled to the foot of the bed, movements languid and cat-like, until she was right in front of Letty. She sat back on her heels, spreading her thighs deliberately. Her cunt, puffy and well-used, glistened. A trickle of Dom’s cum mixed with her own arousal seeped out onto the sheets.
She looked up at Letty, her brown eyes fearless, challenging. Her voice was a smoky taunt. “Don’t you want to know what it feels like?” Izzy reached down, dragged two fingers through the mess between her legs, and held them up, shimmering. “Don’t you want to taste what he does to me? What he makes me?”
Letty’s nostrils flared. “You’re his daughter, Izzy.”
“I’m his everything,” Izzy corrected, her gaze never wavering. “And he’s mine. You’re just… outside. Looking in. Always have been.”
The words were meant to cut, and they did. Letty had always been family, but she had never been this. She had never crossed that ultimate line, had never been consumed by Dom the way Izzy was. The jealousy wasn't clean or simple; it was a rotten, complicated thing, tangled with revulsion and a terrible, hungry need.
Letty took a step closer. Then another. The anger didn’t leave her face, but it mutated, hardened into something more complex. She looked past Izzy to Dom. “You want me to accept this? Then show me. Don’t tell me.”
Dom’s eyes narrowed. He gave a single, slow nod. “Izzy.”
Izzy understood. She leaned back, bracing herself on her elbows, offering herself completely. “Go on, Letty,” she whispered. “See for yourself.”
Letty’s hand trembled slightly as she reached out. Not with tenderness, but with a clinical, furious curiosity. She pressed her thumb against Izzy’s lower lips, spreading her open. The flesh was hot, impossibly soft, and swollen. The scent, up close, was overwhelming—pure sex, Dom’s unique scent layered deep within Izzy’s own.
“Fuck,” Letty breathed, the curse mangled by awe.
Dom moved behind Letty, his presence surrounding her. His hands came down on her shoulders, not gently. “You wanted to see. So see. Taste what’s mine.”
He applied pressure, guiding her down. Letty resisted for a second, a final spike of pride, then it crumbled. She dropped to her knees at the edge of the bed, her face inches from Izzy’s soaked cunt. Her breath fogged the glistening skin.
Izzy lifted a leg, hooking it over Letty’s shoulder, dragging her closer. “Do it.”
Letty’s tongue darted out, a quick, experimental swipe. The taste was salt and musk and something profoundly, fundamentally Dom. It was a violation of every boundary she’d ever known, and it ignited a fire in her gut. She did it again, slower, pushing her tongue inside, lapping at the spend leaking out.
A guttural sound escaped Izzy. “Yeah… like that. You like drinking your big brother’s cum out of his little girl?”
Letty’s hands shot up, gripping Izzy’s thighs, her nails digging in. She ate with a frantic, angry desperation, her tongue driving deep, fucking Izzy with her mouth, trying to devour the truth of them. Izzy’s hips rolled, meeting each thrust of Letty’s tongue. Her head fell back, a string of filthy encouragements tumbling out. “That’s it, suck it out, you hungry bitch… you wanted to know… now you know…”
Dom watched, his hand fisted in Letty’s dark hair, controlling the pace. His other hand stroked his own cock, slowly, proprietarily. This was an annexation. A forced baptism.
Letty came up for air, her chin smeared, her lips slick. Her eyes were wide, dazed, the anger still there but now fused with a shameful, vibrant arousal. “I can’t believe…”
“Believe it,” Dom growled. He pushed her head down again, harder. “Now make her come. She’s close. I can feel it through the bed.”
Letty obeyed. She found Izzy’s clit with her tongue, circling it, then sucking it hard between her lips. Izzy’s back arched off the mattress. A sharp, ragged cry tore from her throat as her orgasm hit, a violent contraction that squeezed around Letty’s invading tongue. Letty kept sucking, drinking down the new wave of wetness, until Izzy was shuddering and pushing weakly at her head.
Silence descended, broken only by three sets of ragged breathing.
Letty pulled back. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, refusing to look at either of them. She looked at the floor, at the stained hardwood. Her world had just cracked open, and she had voluntarily crawled into the fissure.
Dom released her hair. He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, not as a comfort, but as a brand. “Now you’re part of it,” he said, his voice devoid of triumph, only solemn, terrible finality. “No going back. You’re in, or you’re dead to us. Choose.”
Letty finally lifted her gaze. She looked at Izzy, spent and gleaming on the bed. She looked at Dom, solid and immovable as a mountain. The fight was gone. All that was left was a hollowed-out acceptance, and smoldering deep within it, a new, dark kind of want.
“I’m in,” she whispered, the words tasting of Izzy and salt and ruin.