Sleepwalking

Charlotte’s POV

I was wide awake, with my fingers still sticky from riding Sebastian’s stolen collar again, when my drunk stepfather stumbled into my bedroom like the devil answering my filthiest prayers.

My heart slammed against my ribs as I lay there in the dark, the leather collar buckled tight around my throat.

The storm outside raged harder now, rain lashing the tall windows of our mansion like it knew what kind of sin was brewing inside. I’d cum twice already tonight, grinding on my pillow with the collar choking me just right, whispering his name. Sebastian. Daddy. But it wasn’t enough.

I slipped two fingers back inside my soaked pussy, slow and teasing, soothing my horny self again. The collar’s silver ring pressed cold against my racing pulse. “Please, Daddy,” I breathed into the pillow. “Ruin your little virgin stepdaughter. Choke me. Break me. Fill me until I can’t walk.” My hips rocked, juices dripping down my thighs as I pictured his powerful hands pinning me down.

Mom’s absences had turned me into this, quiet on the outside, a desperate slut in secret. Sebastian was supposed to be the stable father figure. Instead, he’d become the monster I craved.

Footsteps echoed from downstairs. The front door slammed. My breath caught. Sebastian was home from his business get-together. Drunk, from the sound of it. I froze, fingers buried deep, listening.

Then came the shuffle. My bedroom door creaked open.

He was sleepwalking. His tall, muscular figure swaying down to my room, his shirt half-unbuttoned, eyes glassy. “Charlotte…” he mumbled. That voice. It sent fresh wetness flooding my hand.

Joy exploded in my chest. This was it. My golden opportunity.

The man I’d stolen a collar from, the one whose basement room I’d desecrated with my orgasms, he was right here, in my bed, vulnerable. My pussy clenched hard around my fingers at the thought.

I slipped out of bed on shaky legs, nightie riding up my ass. Rain thunder cracked outside as I guided his heavy body onto my bed. He collapsed back, mumbling something incoherent.

My hands trembled with need as I worked open the rest of his shirt, revealing that sculpted chest I’d watched sweat in the gym.

I unzipped his pants.

His cock sprang free, thick, heavy, veined like a weapon. Bigger than I’d imagined from that quick feel the other night.

The head glistened with precum, as I wrapped my small hand around it, barely able to close my fingers. So warm. So hard. Mine. For this moment, at least.

“Oh fuck, Daddy,” I whispered, stroking slowly from base to tip. It twitched in my grip, growing even thicker. I leaned down, inhaling his musky scent mixed with whiskey, and dragged my tongue across the head, tasting the salty drop. My virgin pussy dripped onto the sheets, aching to be filled.

I could straddle him right now. Sink down on this monstrous cock and lose my virginity while he was too drunk to stop me. No one would know.

But I stopped, chest heaving. If I was going to have what I’d craved for years, my stepfather ruining me. I wanted him fully aware. Eyes open. Knowing exactly whose tight pussy he was stretching. Not some half-dream. I wanted the guilt, the commands, the rough hands that came with it.

Anger flared through the lust. This golden chance, wasted because I was too greedy for the real thing. Tears pricked my eyes, with frustration and guilt over Mom. Mom has done so much for me. And here I was, betraying her with every stroke of his cock in my hand.

I forced myself to pull away, but not before pressing one last kiss to the swollen head, sucking gently until more precum coated my tongue. “Not like this,” I muttered, voice cracking.

Dragging him was harder than I expected. He was all solid muscle, dead weight in his drunken sleepwalk. Adrenaline and raw lust gave me strength. I tugged his pants back up halfway, then hauled his upper body off my bed.

His arm draped heavy over my shoulder, his breath hot against my neck. As I pulled him toward the door, his thigh pressed between my legs. The friction hit my swollen clit perfectly.

I gasped, grinding against him once desperately. My soaked pussy slid along his muscled leg, the collar tightening as I choked back a moan. So close. The shame of it made it hotter. My own stepfather, half-naked, while I humped his thigh like a bitch in heat. I almost came right there, biting my bloody lip.

But headlights swept across the front windows downstairs. Mom? I thought she wasn’t coming back early. Fuck.

I panicked as I hurriedly dragged him to the living room couch. I tucked a blanket over his half-naked body, heart racing. One last risky move, I leaned down and kissed the thick bulge in his pants, rubbing my cheek against it.

His hand shot out suddenly, gripping my wrist hard. Even in sleep. A low growl rumbled from his chest. “Charlotte…”

My knees weakened. Hope flared bright and dangerous, this could be the start of everything. His dominant side surfacing, claiming what was his. But then headlights grew brighter outside.

I could hear tired screeching on the wet driveway. Mom was home early from her trip.

I yanked my hand free just as the front door clicked open. My pussy throbbed with unmet need, his taste still on my tongue, the collar hidden under my nightie. Sebastian stirred on the couch, mumbling again, while my mother’s heels clicked closer.

What the hell was going to happen when she found him like this… and why did part of me hope she’d catch the scent of my dripping arousal on his thigh?

The storm roared louder, but the demon I was about to unleash in our perfect little family would hit harder if not caged.