Book 1: Wanting My Stepson

Chapter 5 —- Agonizing night

Vivian's POV

At the sound of Bianca's voice, my heart violently slammed against my ribs.

Robert and I ripped apart, a dizzying, cold panic washing over me as I stumbled back against the wooden support pole of the tent. My hands flew down to clutch the fabric of my dress, my mind racing to find an excuse, any lie to cover up the sheer guilt written all over my face.

But as I forced my eyes open, my chest heaving, I realized Bianca wasn't even looking at us.

She was stumbling awkwardly into the clearing, carrying a massive, overflowing pile of dry branches and thick pine logs that she had stacked all the way up to her chin. Her head was tilted back at an unnatural angle, her vision completely blocked by the wood as she wobbled on the uneven ground.

"Can someone grab the top of this before I drop it all?" she called out, her voice muffled behind a leafy branch. "Uncle Lucas piled way too much on me!"

The wave of sheer, dizzying relief that washed over me was so intense my knees nearly buckled.

"I've got it," Robert said quickly. His voice was rough, but he moved with sudden, urgent strides to close the distance between them.

With effortless ease, he reached out and lifted the heaviest logs from her arms, instantly relieving her load. Bianca let out a loud, dramatic sigh of relief, tossing the remaining smaller twigs onto the ground.

"Oh, thank God, Rob," she panted, wiping her brow, completely oblivious to the heat still vibrating in the air. "I thought my arms were going to snap."

"You did great, sweetie," I managed to say, forcing my voice to sound smooth, though my hands were still trembling so badly I had to hide them behind my back. "Why don't you sit down and rest? We've got it from here."

As Bianca sat down, Robert carried the wood over to the fire pit. He didn't look back at me, but the tense, rigid set of his broad shoulders told me everything. We had barely escaped.

By the time the sun fully dipped below the horizon, the temperature in the mountains plummeted, leaving the air crisp and freezing. But inside our tent, the atmosphere was suffocatingly hot.

We had realized the logistical nightmare of our sleeping arrangements the second we started bringing the gear inside.

The "four-person" tent Lucas had proudly purchased was a flat-out lie. Once our duffel bags, gear, and sleeping mats were laid out, there was barely enough room to breathe. To make matters worse, Bianca had immediately snared the small, separate pop-up tent we brought, claiming she needed her privacy.

That left the three of us to share the narrow space of the main tent.

"I'll take the left side," Lucas said, yawning heavily as he crawled into his sleeping bag. He was exhausted from the drive and the heavy lifting, and within minutes of rolling onto his side, his deep, rhythmic snores began to echo through the nylon cabin.

"Vivian, you're in the middle," he had muttered right before drifting off. "Robert, take the right."

In the middle.

I lay completely paralyzed on my back, staring up into the pitch-black darkness of the tent ceiling. To my left, my husband slept soundly, entirely unaware. But to my right, so close I could feel the radiating, scorching heat of his body was Robert.

There was barely an inch of space between our sleeping mats. Every time Robert took a slow, deep breath, the fabric of his sleeping bag rustled softly against mine. In the dead silence of the woods, the sound was deafening.

My skin was prickling with a wild, hyper-sensitive awareness. I lay frozen, fighting the frantic hammering of my heart, desperately trying to convince myself to close my eyes and just sleep.

Then, in the absolute dark, I heard the faint, distinct whisper of a zipper slowly sliding down.

A moment later, a large, warm hand slipped out of the darkness, slowly sliding across the narrow gap between our mats until his fingers brushed deliberately against my waist.

The familiar touch made my feet buckle as his hot breath grazed my neck once more. He leaned closer, kissing the edge of my neck softly as his hand rummaged through my body.

My voice was a frantic, low whisper. “Robert… he… he's right here.”

“Then be quiet,” he commanded, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated directly against my skin.

His hand slipped smoothly under my short silk nightdress, his warm palm caressing my bare thighs as he pressed his hard, throbbing cock tightly against my backside through the fabric. I closed my eyes shut, biting back a whimper as I tilted my hips back, spreading my legs slightly to grant him the access he wanted. He kissed my neck, his lips hot and sucking, while his hand slid higher and higher up my inner thigh.

His overwhelming warmth made my inner walls clench greedily, a slick, heavy wave of moisture instantly pooling between my legs.

His tongue slid down my collarbone, licking my skin with wet, deliberate strokes. Using his teeth, he slowly tugged the thin spaghetti strap of my nightdress down, exposing my right breast to the cold air of the tent.

The freezing wind, seeping in through a slightly unzipped vent on the side, made my nipple harden into a tight, aching peak. Robert leaned down, his lips kissing the curve of my breast before cupping the hardened nipple in his mouth, sucking it deep.

My body buckled, a soft, helpless whimper catching in my throat as the pleasure shot straight to my core.

I bit my lower lip until it bled, trying to stay perfectly still as his tongue made wet, teasing circles around my breast, his lips sucking my nipples hungrily.

At the same time, his hand finally slid up, his fingers brushing over the slick, swollen surface of my bare pussy.

I let out a soft, shuddering groan as his fingers began to massage my clit with a slow, heavy pressure.

“So wet,” he mumbled against my nipple, his fingers tracing the wet slit before slowly preparing to slide inside me.

But just as his fingertips pushed past my entrance, Lucas’s deep, gruff voice suddenly bellowed through the dark.

“What the hell is going on this late?”