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2025-08-09 03:57:15
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IN MY STEPSON’S BED Always be my weakness
NOAH She’d just destroyed me. I thought it was only teasing, thought I could handle her, bend her, rule her. But Dianne proved me wrong, like she always does. She’ll always be my weakness, and she knows it.My cock had been aching the moment she slipped into bed, but now it was past control, ready to tear me apart.And God, the way she looked, her hand between her thighs, touching herself right in front of me. She’d never done that before. With me, she was usually shy, waiting for me to draw it out of her. But this time, she didn’t need me. She was unapologetically raw, and I loved every fucking second of it.I was still in a daze from everything that had happened before I saw her there, knees on the bed, like a challenge. My head was still spinning; I hadn’t even realised she’d moved until she was right in front of me.I stepped closer without thinking, drawn to her. A slow, sexy smile slid across her face, one of those smiles that says she knows she’s won, that I’m already finished
IN MY STEPSON’S BED 10/9/25
I blinked, a hint of surprise flashing through me, and for some reason my dress was still clutched to my hand, covering my bare chest. I looked at him closely and intently. I could tell him to leave right now, in a stern voice, and he would. I could let all the anger I’d been holding spill out, anger at the way he’d been purposely, I assumed, flirting with that woman. But I didn’t. Seeing him this furious already felt like my payback. I studied his expression, the sharp lines of anger mixed with something else, something hungrier, both fighting for dominance yet balanced in equal measure. His hair fell carelessly across his forehead, his shirt unbuttoned enough to reveal his chest. He looked maddeningly hot, even standing there on the edge of exploding. “Can't you knock?” “I’ve been holding it in for days! Trying to deal with your hormones, trying to put up with this summer house bullshit, trying to act like I give a damn since you suddenly lost interest, and this is what
IN MY STEPSON’S BED A heartbeat too close
“You’re not even listening to me,” Samantha narrowed her eyes at me, sipping her drink before setting it down with a soft clink.I forced a smile at her, though my mind had completely drifted to the lady in the elegant cream gown, how effortlessly it showcased her sculpted figure, as she laughed softly, talking to Noah.We were seated at the long dinner table with a few guests. We had just finished our main course and were moving on to dessert, though I couldn’t bring myself to have any. My appetite was gone, so I sipped slowly on my pineapple juice instead.This was our annual summer dinner party at the Hamptons house, something Richard had started a year or two ago. Over time, it had become a tradition. All the attendees were his friends or colleagues; they came to mingle, drink, and, of course, talk business.Usually, I excused myself before dessert, feeling out of place. Most of the women there were all tied to Richard’s world, business-minded, sharp, and distant from anything I d
IN MY STEPSON’S BED Starved again
NOAH Two weeks in that house felt like pure torture—everything I hated rolled into one. Maybe it was just me, but it seemed like her friend was always hovering, always trying to talk to me, and it was exhausting because I had zero interest. The worst part, though, was seeing Dianne every single day and still not getting her to myself.Most nights after dinners or outings, by the time we got back she’d be drained, and the last thing I wanted was to push her when she was already exhausted. So, I’d let her be, leave her to rest, and hold myself back.But tonight was different. Tonight, I was certain she was mine. I could see it in the way she looked at me across the restaurant table, those eyes she only gave me when she wanted me. That slow, lingering gaze, the subtle smirk tugging at her lips… it was seductive, deliberate, and impossible to miss. My thoughts were interrupted yet again by Samantha—for the third time. She and my dad had been bickering since we left the restaurant, and t
IN MY STEPSON’S BED Better now?
I pressed my pen to the notebook, hoping words would spill easier on paper than on a screen. Somewhere along the line, I’d decided I wanted to write during this pregnancy. I didn’t know what genre or idea I was aiming for, and I didn’t want to think too hard about it either. I just wanted to start, to let the words come, however clumsy they were. Every now and then, my mind wandered back to the kitchen The memory still stung, but I forced myself to keep my pen moving. One sentence, then another. Slowly, the tightness in my chest eased, and I realized writing was actually helping. It didn’t erase the scene from my head, but it dulled it enough for me to breathe. Not long after, my door creaked open. Maybe I heard a knock first, maybe I didn’t, I couldn’t tell. I looked up to see Noah leaning in. “Hey. Breakfast’s ready.” “Okay.” I closed my book, stood, and headed for the door, but his voice stopped me cold. “You okay?” “Yeah. Why?” I forced a casual tone, like nothing was w
IN MY STEPSON’S BED Cooking up tension
For the first time in a long while, I felt… happy. Or maybe at peace. I was in the Hamptons, in one of our summer homes, surrounded by my family. At least, that’s what they were to me now—family.Family didn’t have to mean blood; it was about the connections, the people who cared for you. Even though last night with Noah had left a trace of that familiar low mood, I couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading through my chest, an overwhelming sense of happiness enveloping me.Was this how all pregnant women felt? Did they usually experience this quiet joy, this sense of calm radiating through their bodies? For me, that was exactly what I felt. Happy. Surrounded by people who loved me, even if Richard didn’t.Beneath the rush of happiness, my thoughts inevitably drifted back to what Noah had said about Richard. Was he really starting to develop feelings for me? How could that be, when we barely spent any time together? Before summer, all he ever seemed to do was work. Most of our conversation
IN MY STEPSON’S BED Clinic day
7 days later A week later, and I still hadn’t told Richard about my decision.I didn’t know if I was scared or just guilty. I felt like a betrayer.And then there was the other part of me — the part I couldn’t even begin to explain.Noah and I had barely spoken this past week, and honestly, it was
IN MY STEPSON’S BED If only
NOAHThe sound of her breathing filled the space between us, her body rising and falling softly against mine.I watched her in silence—peaceful, captivating.My hand found the side of her face, guiding it gently toward mine. I kissed her, and she responded with the same quiet hunger.But something
IN MY STEPSON’S BED The offer
I downed my third glass of wine, letting the burn distract me as I sat there, waiting for Richard to get home.My first instinct when he walked through the door was to let it all out—yell, accuse, demand answers. But I held back. I told myself I’d stay calm, rational. So I waited. Waited until afte
IN MY STEPSON’S BED The truth
I typed how to take down a photo from a blog and hit search, hoping some step-by-step YouTube tutorial would magically appear and walk me through erasing a scandal.My heels thudded softly against the rug as I waited, eyes fixed on the screen. Nothing useful popped up. Just endless fluff and clickb
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