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SEVEN NIGHTS WITH MY STEPFATHER

SEVEN NIGHTS WITH MY STEPFATHER

Romance
last updateLast Updated : 2026-04-19
By:  Billie PatsyUpdated just now
Language: English
goodnovel18goodnovel
10
5 ratings. 5 reviews
220Chapters
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Synopsis

Steamy

First-Person POV

Dark Romance

Age Gap

Forbidden Love

Artist

CEO

I came to beg for mercy. He offered to save me… for a price. One week. Seven forbidden nights in his snowbound lake house. $187,400.17 wiped clean if I obey every single command. Cassian Voss. My mother’s ex-husband. The man who raised me, then vanished the day the divorce was final. Now a billionaire photographer who shoots the most depraved, beautiful fantasies money can buy… and keeps the pictures for himself. He says I only have to be his assistant. Hand him ropes. Hold the lights. Watch while perfect, naked women kneel and call him Sir. But I feel his eyes on me every time the shutter clicks. I hear the way his voice drops when he calls me “little girl.” I see the way he smiles when I flinch. He promised he wouldn’t touch me. He never said I wouldn’t beg him to. By the seventh night, the debt will be paid. The only question left is whether I’ll drive away free… or drop to my knees and plead with my stepfather to keep me forever. Warning: extremely spicy, very taboo, praise kink, forced proximity, possessive alpha, no cheating, guaranteed HEA.

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reviews

Catrina
Catrina
Not again, Cassian! ...
2026-04-09 03:18:58
1
0
Veertje
Veertje
Hi Billie i wanted 2ask something about your stories. When i see that someone has a few stories i always check how many are Ongoing. You have 6 stories but 5 are still Ongoing. From those 5 there are 4 stories under 10 chapters AND last updates 4-6 months ago. That's not really trustworthy right?
2026-03-04 04:13:47
6
1
Naomi
Naomi
Chapter 111 and man, my heart breaks with Ivy, I don’t know who to believe in there except Sarah and Jonas
2026-02-09 02:22:53
6
0
Catrina
Catrina
My heart says Noah, but my body says Cassian ...️‍...
2026-01-27 14:21:13
13
0
Christine Owings
Christine Owings
65 chapters 1/10/26
2026-01-11 01:07:00
6
1
220 Chapters
Chapter 1
The crash echoed through my apartment like a gunshot, splintering wood and jolting me upright in bed. It was barely dawn, the kind of gray December morning where the world outside my window looked frozen and unforgiving. My heart slammed against my ribs as I scrambled for my robe, but before I could even tie the sash, they were inside.Two men, built like refrigerators with faces scarred from too many bad decisions, stood in my living room. The door hung off its hinges behind them, snowflakes swirling in from the hallway. One of them, the shorter one with a tattoo creeping up his neck like a venomous vine, held a crowbar loosely in his gloved hand. The other, taller and meaner-looking, cracked his knuckles and scanned the room as if appraising what he could smash next.“Where’s the money, sweetheart?” the tattooed one growled, his breath fogging the air. He had an accent, thick and Eastern European, the kind that made every word sound like a threat.I froze in the bedroom doorway, clu
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Chapter 2
The highway north was a white tunnel of snow and headlights. Six hours felt like sixty. Every mile I drove, the radio lost another station until there was nothing but static and the low hum of the engine and my own heartbeat. I kept replaying the phone call on a loop.Come to the lake house tomorrow night. I had no idea what that meant, and my brain refused to guess. Every time I tried, panic clawed up my throat, so I shut the thoughts down and focused on the road. Just get the money. Pay the debt. Survive the week. Go home. Simple.Except nothing about Cassian Voss had ever been simple.By the time the GPS told me I was twenty minutes away, the snow had thickened into a full blizzard. The wipers could barely keep up. My knuckles ached from gripping the wheel. I hadn’t eaten, hadn’t stopped once, not even to pee. I just drove, like if I slowed down the loan sharks would somehow catch up and drag me out of the car.At last the private road appeared, unmarked except for a single black
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Chapter 3
Cassian didn’t repeat himself. He simply waited, patient as winter, camera dangling from his neck like it belonged there. When I didn’t move, he reached past me, unbuttoned my coat himself, and slid it off my shoulders. His fingers brushed the bare skin at my throat (just a graze), but it burned like a brand. He hung the coat on a hook by the door, the same hook that used to hold my pink puffy jacket when I was twelve, and then he turned.“Come,” he said. “I’ll show you what’s changed.”He didn’t wait for an answer. He just started walking, expecting me to follow.And God help me, I did.The lake house I remembered had been warm, cluttered with Mom’s throw pillows and my old crayon drawings taped to the fridge. This version felt like a gallery designed by someone who hated softness. The walls were bare except for enormous black-and-white photographs in severe black frames. A woman’s spine arched over a leather bench. A man’s hand wrapped around a slender throat. A close-up of lips par
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Chapter 4
I woke up with the taste of panic in my mouth and one single thought screaming through my head: leave. Pack the bag, steal the keys if I had to, drive south until the snow turned to rain and this house was nothing but a nightmare in the rear-view mirror.I was already yanking on jeans and a sweater when reality slapped me. No keys. Even if I found them, where would I go? Back to the apartment with the broken door? Back to the men who promised to come collect in pieces?My hands shook so hard I could barely zip my boots.I opened the bedroom door, fully prepared to sprint, and stopped dead.Cassian was leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed, coffee in one hand, looking like he’d been waiting for hours. He wore a black thermal that stretched across his chest and dark jeans that did criminal things to his thighs. His hair was still damp from a shower, and the faint scent of his soap drifted down the hallway and wrapped around me like smoke.“Going somewhere, little girl?”I hat
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Chapter 5
I took the stairs down to the basement slowly, each step feeling like a countdown to something I wasn’t ready for. The studio door was cracked open, a slice of warm light spilling onto the dark wood floor. I pushed it wider and stopped dead on the threshold.I had expected cameras and lights and maybe a backdrop. What I got was a full-blown erotic film set hidden under a billionaire’s lake house.Black walls absorbed every sound. A massive seamless white paper roll swept from ceiling to floor like an endless canvas. Overhead, a grid of steel beams held softboxes, strobes, and enough cables to rig a rock concert. One corner was pure luxury: velvet chaise, silk sheets, a crystal chandelier that looked like dripping ice. Another corner was pure dungeon: a padded leather bench with restraints bolted to the floor, a St. Andrew’s cross leaning against the wall, coils of red and black rope hanging from hooks like sleeping snakes. A tall cabinet stood open, shelves lined with toys I didn’t ev
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Chapter 6
The studio lights were merciless. They turned Sarah’s skin to warm gold and made every bead of sweat on her collarbone glisten like a jewel. Cassian moved around her in slow, predatory circles, camera clicking in short, controlled bursts. Each flash froze her in a different stage of surrender: wrists crossed above her head, crimson rope looped in perfect diamonds across her ribs, back arched so sharply I thought her spine might snap.“Open your knees wider,” he said, voice low and steady. “Let me see how much you want this.”Sarah obeyed instantly, thighs parting, breath hitching on a soft moan that echoed off the black walls. The rope framed her like a gift. She looked ruined and radiant at the same time.I stood three feet away holding a silver reflector, arms aching, cheeks burning so hot I was sure the heat would melt the foil. Every order he gave her slid under my skin and twisted.Look at me, Sarah. Good girl. Hold it right there—don’t move until I say. That’s it, breathe
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Chapter 7
The last flash popped and the studio lights dimmed to a soft amber glow. Sarah stretched like a satisfied cat, ropes loosened and trailing from her wrists, skin marked with beautiful red diamonds that would bruise purple by morning. Cassian lowered the camera, checked the back screen once, and gave her the smallest nod of approval.“Perfect,” he said. “We’re done.”Sarah practically purred. She slipped the robe back on, tied it loosely, and sauntered over to him for a lazy, lingering kiss on the cheek. “You’re a genius, Cassian. Same time next week?”“I’ll text you,” he answered, already turning away.I stood frozen near the light stand, arms full of coiled rope and crumpled silk, feeling like I’d been run over by something I couldn’t name. My legs trembled. My panties were ruined. I couldn’t look at either of them.Cassian’s gaze found me across the room. “Ivy. Upstairs. Shower and change for dinner. Twenty minutes.”His voice was calm, almost gentle, but it scraped over every raw ne
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Chapter 8
I woke to the sound of my name, low and commanding, slicing through the last threads of sleep.“Ivy. Get up. They’re here.”Cassian was already in my bedroom, framed in the doorway like he belonged there. Gray morning light outlined the width of his shoulders; he wore black again, sweater clinging to his chest, expression unreadable. I sat up too fast, clutching the duvet to my throat even though I was fully clothed in yesterday’s sweater and leggings.I opened my mouth to snap something (anything) about knocking, but the words died when I saw the calm expectation in his eyes. He had heard me last night. He knew. And he was acting like nothing had happened.“Ten minutes,” he said, then turned and left the door open behind him.I scrambled out of bed, heart racing. My reflection in the mirror looked like a ghost: pale skin, huge eyes, lips bitten raw. I splashed ice-cold water on my face, dragged a brush through my hair, and twisted it into a messy knot. No makeup. No armor. Just me, r
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Chapter 9
The upstairs session was almost disappointingly normal. Soft morning light through the bedroom windows, white silk sheets, Elena in a barely-there lace slip, Marcus in low-slung linen trousers. They laughed and kissed and moved together like they had done this a thousand times, which, from the way they touched each other, they probably had. Cassian circled them with the camera, giving quiet directions: chin down, hand lower, look at her like she’s the only thing in the world. It was sensual, yes, but it felt… safe. Artistic. I held a reflector, adjusted a curtain, handed him a different lens. I could almost pretend I was on a regular fashion shoot.Then Cassian glanced at his watch and smiled that slow, dangerous smile.“Downstairs,” he said. “Let’s get dirty.”My stomach flipped.The four of us descended the hidden staircase behind the bookcase. The moment the studio door came into view, my body remembered everything from yesterday: the heat, the scent, the way my own fingers had b
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Chapter 10
The studio had turned into a furnace.Cassian had moved Elena and Marcus from playful newlywed sweetness to something rawer. They were on the wide leather ottoman now, Elena on her back, legs wrapped high around Marcus’s hips while he moved inside her with slow, deliberate strokes. Cassian circled them like a predator, camera low, catching every slick slide, every shudder, every broken gasp that left Elena’s lips.“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Marcus, tilt her hips—yes, exactly like that. Let me see how deep you are.”Marcus groaned and obeyed, lifting Elena so the angle changed and she cried out, nails raking down his back. The sound went straight between my legs.I was supposed to be holding a light meter, but my arm had gone slack ten minutes ago. I couldn’t look away. Their bodies gleamed with sweat under the strobes, skin sliding on skin, breath ragged. Elena’s head fell back, exposing the long line of her throat, and Marcus bent to bite it, marking her while Cassian caught every se
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