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Enough time
Data de publicação:
2026-05-02 23:39:08
Último capítulo
Stepdad’s Pet, His Son’s Plaything The architecture of deception
Emma’s POVThe sunroom of the new estate was a masterpiece of glass and clinical white marble, but it felt like an interrogation chamber. The air was heavy with the cloying scent of unboxed lilies and the sharp, chemical tang of fresh floor wax. My mother was vibrating—a frantic, rhythmic tapping of her manicured nails against the velvet arm of her chair that set my teeth on edge."He’s different, Emma," she whispered, her voice brittle, like dry parchment. She wasn't looking at me; she was staring out at the valley as if the answers were written in the trees. "The move... he’s colder. He stays at the office until midnight. He comes home smelling of a life I don’t recognize. Do you... do you think your father is seeing someone else? Scratch that, he’s seeing someone else and you know it Emma, you’re just covering up for him because you’re a “daddy’s girl” and he’s always on your side."A sharp, jagged jolt of adrenaline shot through me, but I didn't let my mask slip. I took a slo
Stepdad’s Pet, His Son’s Plaything The den of lies
Emma’s POV The high-gloss finish of the new estate was a lie. As the heavy doors of the car finally cut the engine in the circular driveway, the silence that followed wasn't peaceful—it was a heavy vacuum of everything we had done in the dark.Jordan sat in the driver’s seat for a long moment, his chest heaving, his hands white-knuckled on the leather steering wheel. I sat straddled over him, my silk dress bunched at my waist, my skin still humming from the vibration of the car. The windows were tinted dark enough to hide the sin, but the air inside was thick with the scent of sex, gasoline, and the raw, unrefined power I had just clawed back from him."Get off, Emma," he rasped, his voice a broken thread of the "Saint" he pretended to be. "Ruth is right behind that door. Fix yourself."I didn't rush. I leaned in, my lips brushing his ear, tasting the salt of his sweat. "I'll fix myself, Daddy. But every time you look at her tonight, I want you to feel the ghost of my mouth on you.
Stepdad’s Pet, His Son’s Plaything The long drive home
EMMA’S POVThe maybach was a rolling cage of leather and suppressed violence. We were miles away from the old estate, the tires humming a low, steady rhythm against the asphalt, but the air inside the cabin was thick with the metallic scent of my own blood and the raw, musky evidence of what Jordan had done to me on that library table.My skin was humming, the welts from the crop stinging against the silk of my dress, but as I looked at Jordan’s profile, I didn't feel broken. I felt lethal.Jordan’s hands were steady on the wheel, his face a mask of cold, executive stone, but I could see the way his pulse was jumpy in his neck. He thought he had finished with me. He thought he had drained me of my defiance.He was wrong.I shifted in the passenger seat, the leather creaking under me. I reached over, my fingers sliding into the dark space between his thighs. I felt him jump, his grip tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles went white."Emma, don't," he hissed, his voice a l
Stepdad’s Pet, His Son’s Plaything Enough time
REIGN’S POVThe master bedroom was a crime scene of silk and sweat. We moved with a frantic, jagged efficiency, stripping the brand-new sheets and stuffing them into the bottom of a packing crate that hadn't been emptied yet. Ruth’s hands were shaking so hard she could barely button her floral wrap, her eyes darting to the door every time the wind rattled the glass balcony."He’s going to know, Reign," she whispered, her voice a thin, ragged thread. "He’s going to walk in and smell it. He’s going to see it on my face.""He won’t see anything but what I want him to see," I said, my voice an anchoring weight. I stepped behind her, pulling her hair away from her neck and pressing a final, stinging kiss to the pulse point below her ear. "You’re the Perfect Wife, remember? And I’m just the broken son you’re so kindly helping to settle in."We headed downstairs, our footsteps echoing on the pristine marble of the floating staircase. The living room was a cavernous space of white stone and
Stepdad’s Pet, His Son’s Plaything The broken sanctuary
RUTH’S POVThe master suite smelled of expensive cedar and the sterile scent of fresh white paint. It was supposed to be my victory lap—the room where Jordan and I would finally outrun the ghosts of the old estate. But as Reign carried me across the threshold, his arms like iron bands around my waist and knees, the room felt like a stage for a crime I had been begging to commit.He dropped me onto the massive, king-sized bed. The mattress was firm, untouched, a pristine white altar that was about to be defiled. I tried to sit up, my breath hitching in my throat, my silk wrap sliding precisely off one shoulder."Reign, stop... your father," I gasped, the word father sounding like a hollow, pathetic curse in the face of the hunger in his eyes."My father is miles away, drowning in his own secrets," Reign rasped, his voice a low, vibrating chord that settled deep in my pelvis. He didn't move away. He climbed onto the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress, pinning me down without ev
Stepdad’s Pet, His Son’s Plaything The new sanctuary
REIGN’S POVThe drive to the new estate was a study in manic desperation. Ruth was talking—a constant, nervous stream of consciousness that filled the leather-bound cabin of the SUV like toxic gas. She was obsessed with the floor plans, the interior designers she’d already put on retainer, and the "strategic" nature of the architecture."It’s going to be so much better, Reign," she said, her hands gripping the steering wheel so hard the leather groaned. She kept glancing at me, her eyes wide and searching for a validation I wasn't ready to give. "A fresh start. No more 'friction' in the hallways. No more secrets. This house... it’s built for privacy. The wings are separate. The soundproofing is state-of-the-art."I looked out the window at the passing blurred greenery, my mind back at the old house. I could practically smell the rotten, metallic tang of the air my father and Emma were currently breathing. I knew exactly what a "final walkthrough" meant when Jordan was the one leading
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