MY BOYFRIEND'S STEPDAD 5

(MY BOYFRIEND”S STEPDAD) 5

JENNA

I came. Loud, breathless, and completely unhinged.

My body buckled against his hand as my orgasm tore through me, messy and overwhelming, with Tyler’s mouth still glued to mine like he was claiming every moan that left me.

He didn’t stop. His fingers stayed buried inside me, working me through the tremors. My thighs trembled. My lips, wet and bruised, parted in shock.

Fuck.

I just came on my boyfriend’s stepdad’s fingers.

And the worst part? I wanted more.

Tyler pulled away, just enough to see my face. His thumb grazed my bottom lip again, like he liked the way it trembled under his touch.

“That’s it, Jenna. You’re fucking beautiful, when you come.” he murmured, low and satisfied.

I blinked slowly, my pulse still pounding. “T–This can’t happen again,” I whispered, though my voice lacked conviction.

He smiled. A knowing smile. “You’ll beg for it again, sweetheart. We both know, don’t lie to yourself.”

He was always right.

I lowered my gaze to the huge bulge between his thighs. He was so lengthy and hard, my mouth watered. I wanted to suck him. I wanted to feel him inside me.

Fuck, Jenna.

I lifted my gaze to him and opened my mouth to argue, but he had already stepped back. The space between us, flooded with cold and guilt.

I reached for my robe—what was left of it—and pulled it closed over my now oversensitive skin. My thighs were still damp. My core still throbbed.

He turned his back and walked toward the sink, rinsing his hands like nothing had happened—like he hadn’t just fingered me to orgasm.

“Go back to bed,” he said without looking at me. “Unless you want me to bend you over that counter and fuck your brains out.”

My breath hitched. My core clenched.

I wanted to challenge him.

I wanted him to do it.

Instead, I remained silent till he left the kitchen, and I returned to my room.

Back in my room, I collapsed onto the bed, but sleep still refused to come.

Not after what had just happened.

Not with the way I could still feel his fingers buried inside me, the way his breath kissed my neck, the way he growled my name like it belonged to him. Like I belonged to him.

My thighs were still slick. My body? Aching. Starved.

I rolled onto my side, eyes wide open in the dark, my skin on fire with need.

No man had ever touched me the way Tyler did. Not even Bell. Bell touched me like he was scared to break me. No one had ever taken me like that — greedy, shameless, like he didn’t just want to fuck me… he wanted to own me.

And fuck, I wanted to be owned.

I bit my bottom lip, hard. Then I sat up. My breath shallow. My nipples, tight peaks beneath my silk robe. My pussy, throbbing again — angry that he’d left it wanting.

I couldn't wipe the image of his bulge. The feeling of his hardness and length against me.

Fuck, I can't. I can't endure this.

I wanted Tyler's cock. Every inch of it, inside me.

I tossed the covers off my body and exited the room. The hallway was dark, but I didn’t hesitate. I walked straight to his door. My heart thundered. My body liquified.

The door was unlocked.

I didn’t knock. I pushed it open and stepped inside.

He was lying in bed, the sheets low on his waist, shirtless, chest rising and falling slow. His eyes were already on me like he’d been waiting. Like he knew I’d come.

"Missed me, already?" His voice was thick, rough from sin.

I didn’t answer. I stepped inside, and closed the door behind me. The click echoed like a trigger being pulled.

His eyes trailed over me. My loosened robe, my bare breasts, my bare thighs. No panties.

"You came here like that?" he asked, voice low and dangerous.

I nodded, ashamed to have proven him right. "I couldn’t stop thinking about it," I whispered.

He tossed the sheets off in one motion and sat up. His body was fucking art. Muscles, veins, that carved his chest and those abs that begged to be licked. Still wrapped in a towel, his length protruded—already hard. Thick.

"Get on the bed, now." he growled.

My knees nearly gave out. I obeyed without a word, crawling onto the bed, hovering over him.

He reached for me, and in a flash, I was under him. Pinned.

His mouth crashed against mine, dominating, hungry, rough and wet. His hands roamed my body, palming my breasts, thumbs dragging over my nipples until I cried into his mouth.

"You came to me like a good little slut,” he growled. “Now I’m going to fuck you like one."

He pulled my robe off in one move. His eyes devoured me, chest heaving. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured, before his lips closed over my nipple, sucking hard. I arched into him, moaning, my fingers tangled in his hair.

His mouth trailed lower. His kisses turned into heated and possessive bites. He slid between my thighs and didn’t wait.

His tongue dove into my soaked folds like he’d been starving for it. He moaned against my pussy, sucking, licking and fucking me with his tongue and lips. My body was on fire. I writhed under him.

"Oh God—Tyler!"

He licked me like he was possessed. Messy. Wet. No mercy. My clit throbbed against his tongue, every stroke tighter, every flick rougher. I bucked wildly.

“I want to feel you cum on my face,” he snarled, “Drip on my tongue like the filthy little thing you are.”

I shattered.

My thighs locked around his head. My cries echoed through the room. I came for him, gushed his mouth, and he fucking groaned like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

Then he pulled back, his chin glistening, and grabbed his cock.

“You want this?” he asked, stroking himself slowly.

“Yes,” I gasped. “Please…”

"Say it," he demanded. “Say what you want, sweetheart.”

“I want your cock,” I choked. “I want you to fuck me. Fill me. Ruin me. Please, Daddy.”

That word made him snap.

His cock sprang up as he tossed off the towel. He was huge, veiny, thick, and coated with abundant pre cum.

He grabbed my thighs, yanked me down to him, rubbed against my wetness and pushed into me.

I screamed.

He filled me in one brutal, perfect stroke. Thick, deep, stretching me to the brink. My back arched, my body on fire, tears burned in my eyes.

He was fucking massive.

He didn’t give me time to adjust. He just fucked me.

Fast. Deep. Hard.

The bed creaked. The sound of our sex—skin to skin filled the room — wet and erotic. Our moans followed each thrust.

“You feel that?” he growled in my ear. “You were made to take this cock.”

"Yes, Daddy—fuck—don’t stop!"

"You’re mine now, Jenna. I don’t care whose girl you were. You belong to me."

My nails raked down his back. My walls fluttered around him, ready to break again.

"Cum for me again, sweetheart. Cum over my cock, let Daddy feel it."

My body obeyed before my brain could. My climax hit like a wave crashing through my soul. I screamed into his neck, biting, sobbing, shaking.

And he fucked me through it — relentless, growling in my ear, “Good girl. Fucking take it.”

He pounded me hard. Lost in the furious rut. God. He fucked so damn good.

"I'm gonna cum inside you, Jenna. And I'm gonna fuck you hard, again." He growled, his voice thick with lust.

A guttural sound tore from his lips, and he came. Hard and deep. His thick cock pulsed, as he spurted thick and hot ropes of cum inside me. He groaned, and kept pumping me through his release, like I'd torn out the pleasure from him.

I was filled and wet with our cum, and he was still hard inside me. He lowered his gaze to where our sex connected, then met my gaze.

"You feel so good, sweetheart." He mumbled and crashed his lips over mine. Slow and wet.

I felt him swelling inside me, and without warning, he took me again. Hard. Fast and merciless.

And I fucking loved it.