Benji Rothstein was the kind of man Manhattan respected on sight. Fifty-two, silver at the temples, tailored suits that cost more than most people’s cars, and the quiet authority of a man who ran one of the oldest diamond houses on 47th Street. Rothstein Diamonds had survived three generations and two recessions under his hand. He was Jewish in the old, understated way—Seder every year, High Holidays observed, charity checks written without fanfare. His late wife had been the same. Their only child, Kelly, had inherited the name, the trust fund, and almost none of the restraint.
Kelly was twenty-three, five-foot-four, slim, with the small, high A-cup breasts that made designer dresses hang like they were made for her. She had her mother’s dark eyes and her father’s sharp mouth. She also had a reputation. Society pages called her a “socialite.” The tabloids were less polite. Club photos, blurry videos, rumors of nights that ended in strangers’ beds or hotel elevators. Benji had tried everything—talks, cut allowances, even a short-lived attempt at sending her to Tel Aviv for “perspective.” Nothing stuck. She smiled, kissed his cheek, and did whatever she wanted.
The night it broke open started with a tip from his driver.
Kelly had left the apartment on the Upper East Side at eleven in a black dress that barely covered the tops of her thighs. By one in the morning she was at a private party in a Tribeca loft, already unsteady on her heels. Benji’s phone lit up with the tracking app he had installed months earlier “for safety.” He told himself he was only checking. Then the location pinned to a warehouse space in the Meatpacking District known for the kind of parties that never made the society pages.
He went.
He wore a dark coat over his suit, collar up, and stayed in the shadows near the entrance. Kelly was easy to spot. She was dancing in the middle of the floor, drink in one hand, the other on the chest of a tall guy in a leather jacket. Her A-cup breasts were outlined clearly under the thin fabric; the dress kept riding up whenever she moved. She laughed too loud. She let the guy’s hand slide under the hem. Benji watched for twenty minutes before he saw her stumble toward the bathrooms with the same man.
He followed.
The hallway was narrow and poorly lit. Kelly’s giggle carried. Benji rounded the corner just as the guy pushed her against the wall and kissed her hard. Kelly’s small hands were already working the man’s belt. Benji’s voice came out low and cold.
“Kelly.”
She turned, eyes glassy from whatever she had been drinking. Recognition took a second. Then a slow, wicked smile spread across her face.
“Daddy. You’re following me now?”
The guy looked between them, confused. Benji didn’t raise his voice. “Leave.”
The man hesitated. Kelly patted his chest. “Go on. Family business.”
Once they were alone, Kelly leaned against the wall, dress still hiked, and laughed. “You’re really here. In the middle of a party. Checking up on your drunk socialite daughter. How very daddy of you.”
“You’re wasted.”
“And you’re hard.” Her gaze dropped pointedly. “I can see it from here.”
Benji stepped closer. The smell of her perfume and alcohol mixed in the tight space. “We’re leaving.”
Kelly’s smile sharpened. “No. You’re going to watch. That’s the payback, Daddy. You’ve been tracking me. Judging me. Cutting my cards when the bills got too high. Tonight you get to see exactly what your money pays for.”
She didn’t wait for an answer. She dropped to her knees right there in the hallway, unzipped him with practiced fingers, and took his cock into her mouth. Benji’s hand hit the wall. She sucked like she had something to prove—wet, noisy, looking up at him the whole time with those dark eyes. When she pulled off she left a string of spit connecting her lower lip to the head.
“Still want to leave?” she asked.
He didn’t answer. She stood, turned, and walked back toward the main room. Benji followed like a man already owned.
The party had thinned but not enough. Kelly found an empty corner booth with a low table and a semi-private angle. She sat, pulled Benji down beside her, and then climbed straight into his lap, facing him. Her dress rode up. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. She ground against the hard line of his cock through his trousers while people drifted past only a few feet away.
“Public humiliation,” she whispered against his ear. “That’s what you get for following me. Everyone here is going to know the diamond CEO is getting used by his own daughter.”
She reached between them, freed him, and sank down in one smooth motion. The stretch made her breath catch—A-cup breasts rising under the thin dress, nipples visible. Benji’s hands locked on her narrow hips. She rode him slow at first, rolling her hips so the head dragged deep. Every time someone glanced their way she smiled wider and bounced harder.
“Look at you,” she murmured. “CEO of Rothstein Diamonds. Sitting in a dirty club with his little girl’s cunt wrapped around his cock. What would the board say?”
Benji’s control snapped. He stood, still inside her, and carried her the few steps to the nearest wall. He pinned her there and fucked her hard—rough, punishing strokes that made her small body jolt. Kelly’s head fell back. She moaned loud enough that two people turned to look. One of them smirked and kept watching. Benji didn’t stop. He hiked her thighs higher and drove deeper, the wet sound of their fucking carrying over the music.
Kelly came first, clenching around him with a broken cry. Benji followed, flooding her in thick pulses. He stayed buried while the aftershocks ran through her. When he finally pulled out, cum leaked down her inner thigh. Kelly reached down, scooped some onto two fingers, and pushed it back inside herself with a satisfied hum.
“Sloppy already,” she said. “Good.”
She didn’t let him clean up. She took his hand and led him toward a darker side room that had been set up with low couches and a single locked door. Inside, the bass was muffled. Kelly locked it behind them.
“Now the real payback.”
She pushed him down onto the largest couch and climbed up until her knees bracketed his head. The scent of sex and her earlier orgasm filled his nose. She lowered herself without hesitation, settling her bare pussy over his mouth.
“Facesitting,” she said, voice husky. “You’re going to eat every drop you just put in me. And you’re going to stay hard while you do it.”
Benji’s hands gripped her thighs. Kelly ground down, rolling her hips so her clit dragged across his tongue. She was small but relentless—A-cup breasts rising and falling as she rode his face. Every time he tried to speak she pressed harder. When she came again she held him there through it, thighs trembling, until he was gasping and slick with her.
She finally lifted off and looked down at the mess of his face and the rigid cock still standing between his legs.
“Cuckold time.”
Benji frowned. “What?”
Kelly smiled, slow and mean. “You followed me. You watched me with that guy earlier. Now you’re going to watch properly.”
She unlocked the door and crooked a finger. The same man from the hallway stepped in—tall, younger, already half-hard from whatever he had seen earlier. Kelly didn’t introduce him. She simply bent over the arm of the couch, ass up, and looked back at Benji.
“Sit there and watch. Hands to yourself. If you touch your cock I’ll make you stop.”
The man stepped behind her, rolled on a condom, and pushed in. Kelly’s eyes stayed on Benji the whole time. She moaned louder than she needed to. She told the stranger how good he felt, how much better than her father’s cock. Benji’s jaw was tight enough to crack teeth. His cock throbbed, neglected, while the younger man fucked his daughter in short, hard strokes. Kelly came again, loud, and told the man to pull out and finish on her back. He did. Cum striped across her skin. Kelly reached back, scooped some, and licked it off her fingers while staring at Benji.
“That’s what you get,” she said softly. “Payback for every time you tried to control me.”
She dismissed the man with a nod. Alone again, she crawled into Benji’s lap, still messy, and kissed him hard—sharing the taste of the other man’s cum. Benji’s hands finally moved. He gripped her small ass and lifted her, lining himself up. Kelly sank down with a broken sound.
This time he fucked her like he was trying to erase the last ten minutes. Rough. Deep. Her A-cup breasts bounced with every thrust. He flipped her onto her back on the couch and drove into her until she was crying out his name—Daddy, Benji, mixed together. When he came he stayed locked inside, pulsing, filling her again while she clenched around him.
They left the party separately. Benji’s driver was waiting. Kelly slid into the back seat of the black town car like nothing had happened, dress still short, thighs still sticky. The privacy screen was up. She climbed into his lap before the car even pulled away from the curb and rode him slowly through the streets of Manhattan, the city lights sliding across her face. Every time they hit a red light she ground down harder. By the time they reached the Upper East Side apartment she had come twice more and Benji had filled her a third time.
Inside the penthouse the rules changed.
Kelly stripped completely and walked ahead of him toward the master bedroom that had once belonged to both his parents. She climbed onto the bed on all fours and looked back over her shoulder.
“Rough. I want to feel it tomorrow.”
Benji didn’t need telling twice. He gripped her narrow hips and slammed into her, the wet slap of skin filling the quiet apartment. Kelly’s small breasts swung beneath her. He reached under and pinched her nipples hard enough to make her yelp, then soothed them with his fingers while he kept fucking her. When she tried to push back too eagerly he pinned her shoulders to the mattress and took her even deeper. She came with a sob that sounded almost like relief.
He pulled out, flipped her, and shoved his cock between her lips. Kelly sucked him clean without being asked, tasting both of them. When he was hard again he dragged her up the bed, sat against the headboard, and pulled her into a reverse facesitting position so he could eat her while she sucked him. The angle let him see everything—the small A-cup breasts, the stretched pink of her pussy, the way her thighs trembled every time his tongue found her clit. She came on his face twice before he finally let her turn around and sink onto him again.
They didn’t sleep much.
Somewhere around four in the morning Kelly straddled him one last time, slow and deliberate, and looked down at him with something softer under the residual alcohol and spite.
“You followed me,” she said. “You watched. You let me use you in public. You let another man fuck me while you sat there hard and ignored. That’s the payback, Daddy. Now you know exactly what I am.”
Benji’s hands slid up her sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of her small breasts. “And now you know I’ll still take it.”
She leaned down and kissed him, deep and messy, while she rode him through one final orgasm. When he came this time he held her hips locked against him so nothing escaped. Kelly stayed there, breathing against his neck, until both of them softened.
Morning light found them still tangled in the expensive sheets. Kelly’s dark hair was a mess across his chest. Her A-cup breasts rose and fell with each slow breath. Benji’s hand rested on the small of her back like it belonged there.
Kelly stirred first. She propped herself up on one elbow and looked at him with clear eyes for the first time in hours.
“We’re doing this again,” she said. Not a question.
Benji’s thumb traced the curve of her hip. “Yes.”
She smiled—small, sharp, almost fond—and swung a leg over him, settling into a lazy facesitting position before he could fully wake. Her voice was husky with sleep and satisfaction.
“Then start earning the next round, Daddy. Public humiliation doesn’t end at sunrise.”
Benji’s hands settled on her thighs. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, Manhattan kept moving. Inside the penthouse, the CEO of Rothstein Diamonds opened his mouth and let his daughter use him the way she wanted—slow, deliberate, and without a single apology left between them.
The day stretched ahead of them. There would be more. More rough sex against the glass overlooking the park. More nights where she made him watch. More mornings where she woke him with her pussy on his tongue and the taste of the night before still on her skin. Payback had a long memory in this family. And neither of them intended to forget.
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