LOGINShare
PTSD
publish date:
2026-05-18 23:56:53
Latest chapter
MY TABOO STEP DADDY PTSD
[CARLTON'S POV]I wake to cold sheets.My hand reaches across the mattress, searching for warmth that isn't there. The space beside me is empty, the indent in the pillow the only evidence Tristan was ever here at all.My body aches. Good aches. The kind that remind me exactly what we did and how many times and how thoroughly he wrecked me.I sit up, wincing.The room is dark except for moonlight spilling through the open balcony door. Curtains billow in the night breeze, ghostly and pale.I catch movement outside.A silhouette against the railing. Broad shoulders. The orange glow of something burning.I drag myself out of bed, naked and sore and stumbling like a newborn deer. Grab a discarded shirt from the floor—his, judging by how it swallows me—and pull it on.The balcony is cold under my bare feet.Tristan sits in one of the wrought-iron chairs, sprawled like a king on a throne that's seen better days. He's wearing nothing but black boxer briefs, the fabric clinging to his thighs
MY TABOO STEP DADDY STILL THERE.
[TRISTAN’S POV] Carlton's mouth falls open. "What... but... I thought—""We had to fuck again. Yes, you thought right."His eyes widen. "Tristan—""On the bed. Now.""Guilt doesn't work that way.""Then let it consume me!" The words rip out of me, jagged and raw. "Tonight it's us. You and I only."I see the argument building on his face. The reasonable, rational objections.Before he can voice them, I'm on him.Mouth on his. Hands grabbing his ass, lifting him. He wraps his legs around my waist instinctively, arms circling my neck.I carry him to the bed, throw him down. He bounces once on the mattress, eyes wide, chest heaving. "Tristan, we should—"I drop to my knees between his spread thighs, grab his hips, and pull him to the edge of the bed until his ass hangs off, completely exposed."We should find Yosef." His voice shakes. "Before—ah—before—"I lick him. One long, broad stroke from hole to balls.He arches off the bed, hands fisting in the sheets."Fuck you." But there's no
MY TABOO STEP DADDY I NEVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT LEAVING
[TRISTAN'S POV] Five in the morning.The room is still dark, thick with the smell of sex and sweat and Carlton. I can taste him on my tongue—salt and something sweeter underneath, like honey cut with lemon.He's sprawled across the bed like a sacrifice. Naked. Wrecked. Covered in my cum.It's dried on his chest in white streaks. Smeared across his stomach. Pooled in the hollow of his throat like a pearl necklace I painted there myself.His hole is still leaking. I can see it from here—my cum sliding out, tracking down his thigh in slow rivulets.Mine.Every inch of him marked. Claimed. Ruined.My cock stirs again.I should let him sleep. Should give him a few hours to recover before I destroy him again.But the itch under my skin won't settle. The crawling, gnawing thing that's been eating at me since Amanda showed up with tear-streaked cheeks and Yosef's name on her lips.I drag myself out of bed.Every muscle protests. My thighs burn. My lower back aches. Even my jaw is sore from b
MY TABOO STEP DADDY AGAIN
[CARLTON'S POV] His eyes track me as I move back toward the bed. Amber burning through the space between us, hot enough to leave marks."Tristan—""On the bed." His voice is flat. Empty of everything except command.I should argue. Should tell him we need to talk about Yosef, about what Amanda said, about whatever the hell is happening that's made his daughter cry like her world is ending.But I don't.Because I know what he's doing.He's going to fuck the guilt out of his system. Fuck away the worry. Fuck until the only thing in his head is me, stretched open and begging underneath him.It's what he does.Violence and sex. The only two languages he's fluent in.I wiggle my ass again. The position feels obscene in the morning light. Too exposed. Too vulnerable. But my cock is already hardening again, thickening between my thighs like my body didn't get the memo that we should be worried about missing uncles and crying daughters.The mattress dips behind me.His hands land on my hips
MY TABOO STEP DADDY Pound me, daddy
[TRISTAN'S POV] Missing.The word hangs in the air like smoke after a gunshot.Amanda stands in the middle of my bedroom, mascara tracking down her face in black rivers, looking at me like I'm supposed to care that Yosef has disappeared.I stroke my cock once. Twice. The piercings catch on my palm, sending sparks of pleasure up my spine.Still hard from Carlton's hand. Still aching to bury myself inside him."He's missing. And then?" The words come out flat. Cold. Like I'm asking about the weather instead of the man who's been my right hand for fifteen years.Carlton's head whips toward me. Those blue eyes go wide with something that might be shock. Or maybe disgust. Hard to tell with him sometimes.Amanda's face does something complicated. Horror and disbelief war across her features, twisting her mouth into shapes that remind me of her mother—the mafia queen who birthed her and died before she could fuck her up too badly. "Daddy..." The word is small. Broken.I don't stop stroking
MY TABOO STEP DADDY MORNING AFTER THE FLOOR
[CARLTON'S POV] The sound reaches me first—metal scraping ceramic, the soft clink of porcelain meeting wood.My eyes drag open, heavy and gritty like someone rubbed sand under my lids while I slept. Morning light filters through the curtains, pale and watery, painting everything in washed-out gold.I blink once. Twice.Tristan stands beside the bed.Towel slung low on his hips. Water droplets track down his chest, following the valleys between muscle and scar tissue like tiny rivers carving through a mountain range. His hair hangs damp and dark, pushed back from his face.He's setting down a tray. Bacon. Eggs. Coffee that steams in delicate white curls.My brain stutters, trying to reconcile this image—domestic, almost tender—with the man who fucked me into the floor last night while I bled from a dozen shallow cuts and came so hard I thought I'd die.He catches me staring.Those amber eyes flick up, lock onto mine, and the corner of his mouth lifts. Not a smirk. Something softer. Da
You may also like
My Dear Master, We're Mates! (M×M)
FAV 12.3K viewsRUIN MY 4.0
Emma Stone24.7K viewsDaddy's little good bad boy
Playtime Mistress 12.8K viewsOwned on the Ice M/M Romance
E L Simon46.0K viewsSecretly In Love with My Highschool Bully
IleneNash 66 viewsHIS BEAUTIFUL THIEF: OWN BY THE MAFIA KING
Mk101 viewsReborn Sovereign
Ravenna174 viewsTHE PASTOR'S SON'S DIRTY LITTLE SECRECT
ANGELA139 views
