CHAPTER 8: MY STEPDADDY DIDN’T STOP UNTIL MY MOTHER WALKED IN

He doesn’t stop. He fucks me through it, through the screaming and the shaking and the gushing, and when the last aftershock fades he pulls out and flips me over like I weigh nothing.

I’m limp. Destroyed. My tank top is bunched up around my collarbones and my tits are exposed and my stomach is smeared with wetness and I can feel cum, his and mine, running out of me onto the sheets. The bed is ruined. Absolutely ruined.

He looks down at me and his cock is still hard. Angry and flushed and slick with everything we’ve made together, and watching it twitch makes my spent pussy clench weakly.

“I can’t,” I whisper. “I can’t come again, it’s too much—”

“You can.” He lifts my legs over his shoulders and folds me in half under him and the new position makes me feel small. Pinned. Completely at his mercy. “One more. Give me one more and I’ll fill this pussy up again.”

He pushes in and the angle is, god, the angle is devastating. My knees are by my ears and he’s driving straight down into me and every stroke hits the back of my pussy with a pressure that makes my eyes roll.

“Feel that?” He’s breathing hard now, sweat dripping from his jaw onto my chest. “Feel me in your stomach? Nobody’s ever been this deep in you. Nobody ever will be.”

“Daddy—” I’m crying. Actual tears, streaming down my temples into my hair, and I don’t know if it’s the intensity or the fullness or the sheer overwhelming wrongness of having my stepfather buried inside me while my mother sleeps in this house, but something about it cracks me open in a way I can’t put back together.

“I know.” His voice softens. Just barely. Just enough that I hear the man under the dominance, the one who looked surprised when he came inside me the first time. “I know, baby. You’re doing so good. Taking me so well.”

He reaches between us and finds my clit. Swollen. Oversensitive. The first touch makes me jolt and grab his wrist, but he doesn’t stop, he rubs in slow, tight circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, and the pleasure builds from somewhere I didn’t know could still respond.

“One more,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Come on Daddy’s cock one more time. Show me what a good girl you are.”

“I can’t, I’m going to, it’s too—”

“You’re going to what?”

“I’m going to break—”

“Then break.”

He slams deep and grinds and his fingers press hard on my clit and I shatter for the fourth time tonight. This one is silent. This one steals my voice entirely. My mouth is open and no sound comes out and my body is arched off the bed, trembling, convulsing around him in rhythmic waves that I have no control over. I can feel my pussy milking him— squeezing and releasing and squeezing, and the wetness pouring out of me is obscene.

He comes with me. I feel it, the hot, thick pulse of him flooding me for the second time, filling me until it overflows, until it’s leaking out around his cock and dripping down to the sheets. He buries his face in my neck and groans, long and low and broken, and his hips stutter as he empties himself inside his stepdaughter’s ruined pussy.

For a moment there’s nothing but breathing. His weight on me. His cock softening inside me. The obscene, wet warmth between us.

He lifts his head and looks down at me and opens his mouth to say something—

The hallway light clicks on.

We both freeze.

Footsteps. Soft, sleepy footsteps padding down the hallway toward my room. And my mother’s voice, groggy and irritated.

“Elena? Was that you screaming? I thought I heard—”

The doorknob turns.

Dominic is still inside me. His cum is dripping out of me. My legs are over his shoulders. The room smells like sex, like sweat and cum and hours of fucking that no amount of air freshener could disguise.

The door opens.

My mother stands in the doorway in her satin robe, one hand on the light switch.

She flips it on.

And she sees everything.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​