All Chapters of Touch Me, Step-Daddy; Forbidden Cravings: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Alex's POV "What the hell, Alex?"Dean's voice came out rough, almost strangled, like the words got caught in his throat. But I barely heard him. My eyes were glued to the front of his pants. That bulge. Thick, obvious, straining against his pants like it was trying to break free. My painting had done that. My naked body on canvas; me sprawled on grass, tits out, pussy bare, legs slightly parted, face flushed like I'd just been fucked. The first time I'd ever painted myself like that. No imaginary woman this time. Just me. And it turned him on.My heart slammed against my ribs so hard. Heat pooled low in my belly, slick and insistent between my thighs. Was this real? Did my own stepdad just get hard looking at my nude? After eight fucking years of me wanting him, did he finally feel something back?He noticed where my stare was locked. His jaw clenched so tight I heard his teeth grind. In two strides he was on me, one big hand clamping around my upper arm, fingers digging in har

Alex's POV I gasped as Dean's cock pressed against my entrance, the thick head nudging my slick folds apart. He didn't slam in like I expected; no, he took his time, inching forward so slow it was torture. The stretch burned in the best way possible. My walls fluttered around him, trying to pull him deeper. "Fuck, Alex," he groaned, hands gripping my hips hard enough to leave marks. "You're so tight. Feel that? Every bit of you squeezing me."I arched my back, pushing against the vanity, smushing my tits against the glass. "Slow... go slow," I begged, even though I wanted him to wreck me. His body heat radiated behind me, sweat already mixing with mine. He eased in another inch, the veins on his dick dragging against my sensitive spots and making me whimper. "Oh God, it's too big..."He chuckled, a breath hot on my neck as he leaned over me. "You can take it, baby. Look in the mirror. Watch how your coochie swallows me." I lifted my head, eyes locking on our reflection. My

Alex's POVA few hours later, I was sitting in the cafeteria of the art academy, fuming but hiding it well.Or at least trying to.I had my orange juice in front of me, half empty, and I kept sipping from it just to have something to do with my hands. Something to keep me from getting up and walking out of here.I looked around the space, taking it all in properly for the first time since Dean had literally carried me here like a sack of potatoes and dumped me in the back of his car.It wasn't what I had expected.When Mr. Mars first mentioned art academy, my mind immediately conjured up images of teenagers shuffling around with paintbrushes, giggling over basic colour theory and getting gold stars for stick figures.But this wasn't that at all.The people here were adults. Most of them looked my age or older, some even well into their forties and fifties. They moved around in pairs or small groups, laughing warmly with each other, carrying portfolios and coffee cups, looking relaxed

Alex's POVMy eyes looked up, and my heart sank.If it was from relief or embarrassment, I didn't know. Maybe it was both. Dean stood there in the doorway, his massive frame filling the entire space, his eyes locked on me.I couldn't quite make out what it was I saw in those dark eyes. But whatever it was, it made my stomach twist. Because I knew, deep in my bones, that he was about to do something terrible.Jade was the first one to speak, sounding completely annoyed."What the hell is some old man doing in the girl's restroom?" she snapped, her hands on her hips.Mimi chimed in next, her voice rising with false authority."You need to leave right now before we call security on you," she warned, then turned to the others and whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear, "He might be a creep. He looks dangerous.""Dangerously hot," Sharon added, her voice taking on that familiar flirtatious tone she always used when she wanted something from someone.She looked Dean up and down, her

Alex's POV"What is it?" He didn't answer right away.Then, without a word, he reached into the breast pocket of his jacket; the one he had wrapped around my shoulders; and pulled out a folded white handkerchief.He shook it open with one hand and leaned forward, his fingers catching my chin gently to tilt my face toward him.And he started wiping.Slowly, carefully, working at the dirt and the dried juice and whatever else those three had managed to get on my face.I blinked, caught completely off guard."I can do it myself," I told him, reaching up to take the handkerchief from him.He moved it out of my reach without even looking up, continuing what he was doing like I hadn't said anything at all.I dropped my hand back into my lap and let him.He worked in silence, his touch careful but not hesitant. His thumb pressed the cloth gently against my cheekbone, then my jaw, then the corner of my forehead where a particularly stubborn patch had dried into my skin.I watched his face wh