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Clean your mess off my dick.
Last Updated:
2025-10-26 16:15:15
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Tamed By The Devil Stepbrother I’m on my way
Nolan's POV I stood, resolve hardening. No more running. I texted Elena: "Tell Dad to fuck off. I'm going to get her." I stared at the screen after the text sent, my thumb hovering like it might still undo everything. Tell Dad to fuck off. I’m going to get her. For the first time in days, my chest didn’t feel hollow. It felt tight—but solid. Like a decision had finally locked into place. I didn’t wait for Elena’s reply. I stood there by the pond, the morning sun breaking through the clouds, turning the water into a sheet of light. Ducks drifted past, unbothered, and somewhere behind me a child laughed. Life didn’t pause for heartbreak—but it didn’t forbid courage either. Clara hadn’t left because she stopped loving me. She’d left because she loved me too much. That truth settled in my bones. I walked back toward Jake’s place with purpose now, every step clearer than the last. The city no longer felt like it was pressing down on me—it felt like something I was moving
Tamed By The Devil Stepbrother What am I supposed to do?
Nolan’s POVI lay there staring at the ceiling, the dream dissolving slowly, cruelly, like fog burned away by daylight filtering through the cheap blinds of Jake's apartment. The patterns up there were familiar now—cracks spiderwebbing like veins, water stains blooming like old bruises from that leak he never fixed. My heart was still racing, a frantic drumbeat echoing in my ears, palms damp with sweat that had nothing to do with the humid air and everything to do with her. Clara. Always fucking Clara. Even in sleep, she haunted me, her voice in that dream—soft, pleading, "Come find me"—twisting like a knife in my gut. I could still feel the phantom warmth of her body against mine, the way she'd arch into me, her breath hitching as I'd slide into her, raw and desperate, our taboo love a fire that consumed everything.Florence.The word tasted bitter now, like bile rising in my throat. It used to conjure images of romance—cobblestone streets, ancient art, the kind of place where lovers
Tamed By The Devil Stepbrother Ride me, baby.
Nolan’s POV"Fuck me, Nolan," she demanded, wrapping legs around me, her heels digging into the small of my back like spurs urging a horse to gallop. Her voice was breathy, edged with that practiced seduction that came too easy in places like this—hot, anonymous, no room for the messy truths that clawed at you later. Mia's thighs were smooth, toned from whatever gym routine she bragged about earlier, but they weren't the right ones. Not soft and yielding in that way that made my blood roar, not marked with the faint freckles Clara had along her inner thighs, the ones I'd map with my tongue on lazy mornings, tasting salt and her until she begged for mercy.I grabbed a condom from my wallet—always prepared, even if this felt like betrayal—and sheathed myself with shaking hands, the latex cool and constricting against the heat throbbing in my veins. Whiskey made everything sharper, the edges of sensation amplified: the scrape of her nails on my shoulders, the hitch in her breath as I pos
Tamed By The Devil Stepbrother God, you're hot.
Nolan’s POVThe bass thumped through my chest like a second heartbeat, vibrating the sticky floor of the club and rattling the half-empty glass in my hand. Neon lights sliced through the haze of smoke and sweat, casting everyone in jagged, unnatural hues—purples and blues that made faces look like masks, hiding whatever bullshit they were running from. I leaned against the bar, the wood slick under my elbows from spilled drinks, the air thick with the sharp tang of liquor, cheap perfume, and bodies grinding too close. It was the kind of place where people came to forget, to drown in noise and numbness, and tonight, that's exactly what I needed. Clara's ghost clung to me like a bad habit, her scent, her laugh, her touch—fuck, especially her touch—haunting every quiet moment. So I chased the loud ones, the chaotic ones, where thoughts couldn't catch up.I knocked back the rest of my whiskey, the burn sliding down my throat like fire, settling in my gut with a warmth that almost tricked
Tamed By The Devil Stepbrother Did he... ask about me?
Clara’s POVI sank onto the edge of the bed, the mattress sighing under my weight like it already knew my secrets—thin and slightly lumpy, with springs that creaked faintly, protesting the intrusion of a new body into its space. The sheets were crisp and starched, smelling faintly of industrial detergent that stung my nostrils, nothing like the soft, worn cotton back home that carried the mingled scents of Nolan's skin and my lavender body wash. My fingers curled into the blanket, gripping it as if it could tether me to something solid, something familiar amid the vertigo of displacement. The wool scratched against my palms, rough and grounding, but it wasn't enough to stop the room from spinning in my mind. It felt too quiet—an unfamiliar, echoing silence that pressed against my ears like cotton wool, broken only by the distant murmur of voices from the courtyard below and the occasional honk of a scooter on the narrow cobblestone street outside. Back home, silence had never lasted.
Tamed By The Devil Stepbrother And yes... first time.
Clara’s POVThe flight attendant’s voice cut gently through the cabin, announcing cruising altitude in a tone that suggested comfort, routine—safety. I hated it. Nothing about this felt safe. The hum of the engines was a constant drone, vibrating through the seat and into my bones, a mechanical lullaby that did nothing to quiet the storm in my head. I kept my forehead pressed to the window until the cold numbed my skin, staring down at the endless sea of clouds below, white and fluffy like whipped cream on a dessert I no longer had an appetite for. They looked so soft, so inviting, but I knew better—up here, they were just vapor, insubstantial and fleeting. Kind of like the future I'd just thrown away.Somewhere below, buried under that fluffy deception, the life I knew kept breathing without me. Somewhere below, Nolan was waking up to a morning without my body curled against his back, without my hair tickling his chin, without the quiet ritual of coffee we never skipped—no matter how
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