Lahat ng Kabanata ng My Step Mom: Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

Hand in hand, they moved past the grand staircases and quiet corridors with a shared, breathless urgency until they reached Elle’s room. When the door clicked shut behind them, locking out the rest of the world, the heavy atmosphere connected to the Dela Fuentez name completely vanished. This room was no longer just Elle’s sanctuary—once their shadows merged in the dim light, it became theirs. No more words remained, no misunderstandings to clear up. The raw confession of their love and the thrill of their secrets culminated in a desperate hunger. Allyna gently pushed Elle against the door, her mouth immediately finding Elle's in a bruising, passionate kiss that made up for every day they had spent acting like strangers under this roof. They shed their clothes and masks, leaving the armor of the outside world on the floor. When they tumbled onto the bed, it became a chaotic, beautiful reclaiming of the one-night stand that started it all. Every touch was an unspok

The use of her middle name snapped Allyna out of her playful trance, the sharp tone cutting straight through the heavy silence of the room. She froze for a fraction of a second, her hand resting perfectly still against the sensitive warmth of Elle's inner thigh. The teasing game was officially over. Allyna leaned down lower, her chest pressing flush against Elle’s rising and falling torso, grounding them both. "Alright," she whispered, her voice losing its mocking edge and replacing it with a deep, commanding gravity. "No more games. Baby.." With deliberate, unhurried focus, Allyna moved her hand, shifting from light, tormenting caresses to a firm, intentional pressure that made Elle gasp loudly. She watched Elle's face closely, tracking the exact moment the frustration melted into pure, unadulterated relief as she finally gave Elle exactly what her body had been begging for. As they held each other tight in the aftermath, listening to the synchronized rhythm of their br

The click of the door closing behind Allyna sounded like a final gavel strike, cementing the return of their reality. Elle lay perfectly still under the heavy blankets, watching the dust motes dance in the morning sun beams. The sheets still held Allyna’s scent—a faint, torturous mix of sweet vanilla and clean skin—but the bed already felt freezing.She stared at the ceiling, her mind spinning into the familiar, exhausting spiral. Just an hour ago, she had been wrapped in the grounding safety of Allyna's arms, feeling like the center of the woman's universe. Now, she was expected to get up, wash away every trace of their intimacy, and play the part of the dutiful, indifferent stepdaughter.The duality of it felt entirely unmanageable. Elle pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes, trying to force down the sudden surge of resentment. She didn't hate her father, which made the guilt of the deception weigh even heavier on her chest. But she loved Allyna with a fierce, desper

Ronan checked his watch, entirely missing the lethal subtext passing between his wife and his lover. "I need to grab my briefcase before the driver arrives," he said, pushing his chair back. He offered Osmund a warm, lingering look, then gave Allyna a polite nod before leaving the dining room. As soon as Ronan’s footsteps faded up the stairs, the polite veneer disappeared. The silence in the dining room grew sharp, heavy, and threatening.Osmund didn’t hesitate. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and swirling the remaining coffee in his mug. A slow, mocking smile spread across his face as his eyes fixed on Allyna."You play the frustrated stepmother perfectly, Allyna," Osmund murmured, his voice dropping to a low, venomous purr. "But you overplayed your hand this morning. The tension in this room wasn't from a daughter resentful of her father's new wife."Allyna kept her posture stiff, her hands resting calmly in her lap under the table, where he couldn't see them t

Back at the house, Allyna stood in front of her bedroom mirror, smoothing down the lapels of her sharp blazer. The domestic mask she wore for Ronan was gone, replaced by the authoritative, poised demeanor of Professor Di Silvestre. The decision to keep her maiden name was a deliberate statement of independence, a quiet rebellion echoing through the university halls. On the official syllabus and the brass placard outside her department, she was listed as Professor Allyna Celeste Constantine Di Silvestre. She had refused to take Ronan’s last name, de la Fuentez, when they married—a detail aligning with their platonic, transactional relationship. Checking her watch, she realized she needed to review her lecture notes on The Craft of Research before the 2:00 PM class. As she gathered her belongings, Osmund's warning from breakfast echoed: “If you fly too close to his precious daughter, some secrets burn much hotter than others.” Entering the lecture hall meant expos