:Almost—Marcus's POV

It was a little past 1 a.m. and the house was completely quiet except for the low hum of the television. Bianca and I were lounging in the living room, neither of us feeling sleepy yet. We were talking about her daughter, Beverly. I acted like the concerned stepfather, asking all the right questions, pretending I just wanted to get to know my “step-daughter” better. In reality, I couldn’t get the girl out of my head.

Bianca mentioned that Beverly was expecting her admission letter from NYU any day now. She told me Beverly planned to stay in the school hostel. The moment those words left her mouth, I felt a surge of irritation. I didn’t want Beverly in some hostel. I wanted her right here, under this roof, where I could see her every single day. I had plans for that girl, dirty, filthy plans and none of them involved her living miles away from me.

I leaned forward, keeping my voice casual. “You know, with the way things are right now, maybe it’s not the best idea for her to stay in the hostel just yet.”

Bianca sighed and rubbed her temples. “I know… but she’s so excited about it.”

I saw my opening and took it. “Babe, you already told me you’re struggling financially right now. Hostel fees, feeding, transportation… that’s a lot of money you don’t have yet. Let her stay at home for the first year. Save some money. Then maybe she can move into the hostel later when things are more stable.”

I could see the idea sinking in. Bianca slowly nodded, looking thoughtful. “You’re actually right. I didn’t even think about the money. I’ll talk to her tomorrow… even though I know she’s going to be pissed.”

I didn’t care how Beverly would react. All that mattered was keeping her close. Close enough for me to finally get what I’d been craving.

“I’ll grab some juice,” I told Bianca, standing up.

I walked into the kitchen and had just opened the fridge when I heard soft footsteps behind me. I turned around… and nearly lost my breath.

Beverly was standing there in the doorway, looking like pure temptation.

She was wearing the tiniest black tank top I’d ever seen, so thin it was see-through. Her full, perky breasts strained against the fabric, her nipples clearly visible through the material. The hem barely reached the top of her thighs, giving me a perfect view of her long legs and the pink bum shorts that hugged her bum like a second skin.

My cock twitched in my sweatpants the second my eyes landed on her. I couldn’t stop staring. Her tits looked so soft, so round, so fucking perfect. I felt myself getting harder by the second, my dick starting to throb and tent the front of my pants.

I knew I was staring too long. Her eyes dropped to my crotch and widened slightly when she saw the obvious bulge. She looked uncomfortable… but she didn’t run.

She walked past me to the fridge, reaching up to grab a bottle of water. The movement made her shorts ride up even higher, exposing the smooth underside of her ass cheeks. My mouth went dry.

When she turned around, her elbow accidentally knocked into the glass of juice I’d just poured. The cold liquid splashed straight onto her chest, soaking the front of her thin tank top instantly.

The black fabric turned completely see-through.

Her hard nipples poked against the wet material, and the shape of her full, juicy breasts was now on full display. My cock jumped again, now rock hard and straining painfully in my sweatpants.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” I said quickly, stepping closer.

Before she could react, I reached out and placed both hands on her chest, pretending to clean the spill. The moment my palms made contact with her soft tits, I felt like I died and went to heaven. They were so full, so incredibly soft, yet firm at the same time. My fingers sank into the warm flesh as I “wiped” the juice away, my thumbs deliberately brushing over her stiff nipples again and again.

I squeezed gently, feeling the weight of her perfect breasts in my hands, my cock now throbbing so hard it was almost leaking. I wanted to rip that wet tank top off and bury my face between them. I wanted to suck on those pretty nipples until she was moaning my name.

“I’m so sorry, Beverly,” I murmured, my voice low and husky, even as my hands continued to shamelessly grope and massage her tits. “Let me clean it up for you…”

Her breathing had grown heavier. Her nipples were rock hard under my thumbs, and I could’ve sworn I heard the tiniest whimper escape her lips.

“It’s… it’s fine,” she finally whispered, her voice shaky. “. I’ll go change.”

But I didn’t stop immediately. I gave her breasts one last firm, lingering squeeze, letting my fingers brush over her sensitive nipples one final time before reluctantly pulling my hands away.

She turned quickly and hurried upstairs, but not before I caught the flush on her cheeks and the way her thighs pressed together as she walked.

I stood there in the kitchen, my cock painfully hard, her warm tit flesh still burning against my palms. The image of her soaked, see-through tank top and those perfect breasts was now permanently seared into my brain.

This was only the beginning.

And I wasn’t going to stop until I had every inch of that girl. I could tell she wanted it just as badly as I did. It wasn’t as if she would have stopped me right away, she was clearly enjoying the attention, her body language giving her away even if she tried to play it cool. That little spark of mutual hunger meant she would stick around for a while longer, at least long enough for me to push things further.I grabbed the bottle of juice I had come downstairs for, twisting the cap off with a soft hiss. With one last lingering glance in her direction, I turned and headed back toward the living room, my pulse still racing from the charged moment we had just shared. I dropped onto the couch, stretching my arms out along the backrest, the cool leather pressing against my skin. As I took a slow sip of the chilled juice, a satisfied smile crept across my lips.This was only the beginning. Her silent consent, the way she hadn’t pulled away or told me to stop, had just made my plan so much easier to execute. I could already picture how the rest of the morning might unfold, how far I could take things before she pretended to protest, and how much further she would actually let me go.The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant ticking of the wall clock. I leaned back deeper into the cushions, my mind replaying the way her sheer top had clung to her full breasts, the outline of her hardened nipples clearly visible, and how those tiny pink shorts had ridden up, barely covering the smooth curves of her ass. She knew exactly what she was doing coming downstairs dressed like that. And I was more than ready to take full advantage of it.