The Gap He Couldn’t Fill Novel – The natural delivery left me loose. My husband couldn’t fill the gap, and he refused to touch me again. Then one late night, my father-in-law walked in on me pleasuring myself. He was the man who ran the East Coast mob. He admitted outright that he was abnormally large and hinted that our bodies might be a perfect match, one that could fix my problem for good. *** Five months. That was how long it had been since my husband last fucked me. Ever since I gave the Voss family their twin heirs, everything down there had loosened up for good. No amount of kegels or pelvic floor work could bring the tightness back. Ryan Voss tried once. He pushed inside, frowned, and pulled right back out.
He said he couldn’t feel a thing. He said it was like sliding into warm nothing. After that, he’d rather lock himself in his study and handle things alone than lay a single finger on me. Tonight, I pulled out all the stops. I squeezed into that lace babydoll set, the one designed to make a man lose his mind. I kept my makeup soft and pretty, then spritzed on the custom-blended perfume that was supposed to drive men wild. Ryan gave me one cold glance. He told me to “go ask my father to take a look at you”, grabbed his pillow, and disappeared into his study. I sat on the edge of the bed and let the tears fall. I was only 26. My body screamed for a man to take me hard and fill me up completely, but all I had were the oversized toys stashed in my nightstand drawer.
They did the job on the surface, sure. But no piece of cold silicone could touch the ache that kept growing deeper inside me. A violent, rhythmic pounding erupted from the master bedroom next door. A woman’s muffled moans followed close behind, the kind she was clearly trying and failing to hold back. It was Ryan’s mother, Lina Voss, getting fucked. I bit down on my lip and pressed my ear against the wall. Each impact landed heavy and brutal, the kind of force that shook the bed frame. Lina’s voice broke through in ragged, sobbing gasps. She begged him to stop. She cried that it was too deep. She swore he was going to break her. A sharp pang of envy twisted through my chest. God, I wish that were me pinned underneath him. The thought hit like a match to gasoline.
The heat I’d been trying to smother roared back to life, fiercer than before. Minutes later, the sounds shifted into a full-blown argument. “You always gotta go for so goddamn long… I can’t take it anymore! If you can’t control yourself, go find some other woman to screw!” Lina’s voice cracked with tears, teetering right on the edge of a breakdown. Lucian Voss’s deep, commanding voice followed. He seemed to be talking her down, but the impatience bled through every word. My heart hammered against my ribs. The wetness between my legs started up again, completely beyond my control. Lucian was the current head of the Voss family.
He controlled the entire East Coast operation—arms smuggling, underground casinos, a chain of high-end private hospitals. He looked no older than his late thirties, but the man was well past 50. He kept himself in peak condition, and he always carried the same intoxicating mix of cigar smoke, cologne, and raw masculine energy. In the world of organized crime, he was the kind of figure people feared and respected in equal measure. And me? In front of everyone, I had to call him “Dad.” The thought alone made me throb and ache between my legs. I couldn’t hold back anymore.
I padded barefoot to the guest bathroom off the living room, locked the door behind me, hiked up my nightgown, and sat on the cold marble counter. I spread my legs wide open in front of the mirror. The reflection showed my pink slit already soaking wet, parted slightly, pulsing and clenching like a hungry little mouth gasping for air. I shoved two fingers deep inside and pumped them hard and fast. Wet, filthy squelching sounds filled the bathroom. “Mmm… ah…” I couldn’t hold back the moans.
My other hand rubbed furiously at my swollen clit while my mind filled with nothing but Lucian’s cold, devastatingly handsome face. “Daddy… use that big cock… fuck me hard…” The dirtier I talked, the more turned on I got. My juices ran down my fingers to my wrist and pooled into a glistening puddle on the marble countertop. Right as I teetered on the edge of climax, the bathroom door swung open. I froze solid, like a bolt of lightning had nailed me to the spot. Lucian stood in the doorway wearing a silk robe, the front hanging open to reveal a chiseled chest and carved abs. His dark, burning gaze locked onto the space between my spread legs. He saw everything. He saw my fingers still buried deep inside me, pumping away. And he heard every filthy word I had just moaned, calling out “Daddy” while I touched myself.