All Chapters of MY TABOO STEP DADDY : Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

[TRISTAN'S POV]Let me stay.The words echo in my skull like a fucking grenade just went off.I stare at Bunny sitting naked on my bed, cum drying on his face, looking at me like I hold his entire world in my hands.He wants to stay.With me. After everything. After the kidnapping, the torture, the forced orgasms and brutal fucking and sleepless nights. After I dragged him into my war, painted his hands red, made him complicit in crimes he'll never wash off.He wants to stay.I should be happy. Ecstatic, even.But all I feel is cold, creeping dread."No," I say.His face crumples."No?" His voice cracks. "You promised me. You said—""I said you'd leave," I cut him off. "And you will. Tonight."He stands, shaking, fury radiating off him in waves. "You bastard!” "You should be happy," I say. “At least no more bastard to disturb you.""Outside is dangerous."I freeze.What?"What did you just say?"Carlton's eyes widen. He realizes his mistake. "I meant—""That you're safe here," I fi

[CARLTON’S POV]"I had my revenge," I snap. "Or did you forget Yosef's leg is shattered because of me? Tristan fucked him up real good. I guess he won't have five fingers to finger your hypocritical hole."Silence.Then Damon laughs, sharp and cold. "You think that's revenge? You think watching Tristan beat someone makes you powerful?""More powerful than you. At least I'm not spreading my legs for a man who doesn't even know my name half the time.""Yosef knows my name!” "Does he? Or does he just moan ‘Tristan’ when he fucks you?"Damon's hand twitches toward his glass. For a second, I think he's going to throw it. Instead, he drinks."You know what's sad, Carlton?" His voice is quieter now. Deadly. "You think you're special. You think because Tristan fucks you, because he puts a ring on your finger, because he calls you his, that you matter.""I do matter.""You're a replacement."My heart stops."You're not the first he's obsessed over. You won't be the last. You're just the one s

[TRISTAN'S POV] Carlton's face flushes. Red creeps up his neck, stains his cheeks.Damon opens his mouth. "Pakhan, I—""Shut the fuck up, Damon," I say without looking at him.Damon's mouth clicks shut."No," Carlton’s voice is small. Shaky.God, he's beautiful when he's ashamed.My cock strains against my slacks. I pat my thigh twice. "Come here."Carlton's eyes widen. He glances at Damon. At the room full of men watching him. At me.He doesn't move.I sit forward, let the cigar fall from my lips. It hits the floor, smolders.My gaze locks on his.This is the look I gave him last night. In the bathroom. Right before I folded him over the sink and fucked him until he couldn't remember his own name.He knows what it means."Any problem?" I ask.My hand drops to my lap. I adjust my cock through my slacks, slow and deliberate. Let him see how hard I am. How much I want him.Carlton swallows. Then Stands.Good boy.He crosses the room. Every step is hesitant. His bare feet make no sound

[CARLTON'S POV]He's on me before I can breathe.Tristan's mouth crashes into mine. Not a kiss. A claiming. His teeth sink into my bottom lip, splitting skin, drawing blood. I taste copper and whiskey and something wild, something feral that makes my spine arch off the table.His hands are everywhere. Ripping my hoodie over my head. Yanking my sweatpants down my thighs. Rough. Brutal. Like he's trying to peel me out of my skin."Tristan," I gasp. "Wait—""No."One word, final.His mouth moves to my neck. Bites. Hard enough to bruise. Hard enough to mark.I'm his.I've always been his.My hands scrabble at his back. Nails digging into muscle. Scarred flesh beneath my fingertips. The ridges of old wounds. New ones.He hisses and I know I've torn stitches open."You stood up for me," he rasps against my throat. "In front of everyone. You defended me.""Tristan—""That was the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen."His hand wraps around my throat, and squeezes. Not hard enough to hurt. Ju

[TRISTAN'S POV]9:30 PM. En route to the warehouse district.The tour van reeks of leather, whiskey, and bad decisions.I take another drag from my cigarette, watching the smoke curl toward the tinted ceiling. The interior is all black leather and chrome—opulent in that "fuck you" kind of way. A fully stocked bar runs along one side, bottles clinking softly as we hit potholes. Recessed lighting casts everything in amber and shadow. It's the kind of vehicle rock stars and drug dealers favor. Tonight, it's ferrying a psychopath, his obsession, and the collateral damage we call family.Carlton sits by the window, hands pressed between the curtains like a child watching for rain. The glass is bulletproof, reinforced, state-of-the-art. Doesn't stop my heart from trying to punch through my ribs every time he leans too close to it.I told him to stay home, locked in our empire where I could bury him in silk sheets and forget the world exists.The little suka looked me dead in the eye and sai