The Step father and His plus size obsession

The buzzing didn’t stop. It vibrated against my hip where he was pressed flush against me, a harsh, rhythmic interruption to the heavy, suffocating tension in the elevator. He cursed under his breath, a dark, rough sound that sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between my thighs, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand slid down, his thumb swiping across the screen to silence the call without even glancing at who was trying to reach him. "Who was that?" I whispered, my voice trembling just a fraction. "Nobody," he growled, his large hands dropping from my face to grip my waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there. "Just a ghost. And right now, you’re the only thing that’s real."Before I could even process the weight of that, his mouth crashed down on mine. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was a claiming. His lips were hot and demanding, his tongue sweeping into my mouth to taste me, to conquer me. I let out a muffled gasp, my hands flying up to grip the lapels of his leath

I locked my bedroom door and immediately leaned against the heavy wood, letting out a breath I felt like I’d been holding since I walked through the front gates. My new room was ridiculous. It was massive, decorated in soft creams and golds, with a four-poster bed that looked like it belonged in a French castle. But all I could see was the heavy oak door, and all I could hear was Arthur’s voice echoing in my head. *You belong to me.*My skin was still crawling from the way he’d gripped my neck, a terrifying mix of dread and a heavy, confusing heat pooling low in my stomach. I needed to get out of my conservative clothes. The thick turtleneck was suffocating me. I stripped off the sweater and the long skirt, tossing them onto a velvet chair, and dug through my suitcase. The house was heavily climate-controlled, so I pulled out a simple, ribbed-knit midi dress. It was a deep burgundy, with a cowl neck that draped softly over my heavy breasts and a skirt that clung desperately to my

I thought the study was going to be where Arthur finally broke me and claimed what he thought was his, but it turned out to be the library that nearly ruined my sanity instead. When I finally worked up the nerve to walk down the hall and knock on Arthur’s heavy oak door, his deep voice immediately barked from the other side, telling me he was on a crucial call and to wait in the library until he was finished. So, I retreated down the dimly lit corridor, my heart still hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs from the way his hand had bruised my thigh under the dinner table. I pushed open the double doors to the library, expecting it to be empty, but the sharp clink of ice against glass made me freeze. Leo was standing by the mahogany bar in the corner, a crystal tumbler of amber liquid in his hand. He had ditched his suit jacket, and his white dress shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, the sleeves rolled up to reveal thick, corded forearms. He looked like a completely