Claiming His Stepmother のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

The music is loud. I can feel the heavy beat through the soles of my feet, vibrating up my legs until it settles in my chest. The Velvet Room is full of the smell of strong cologne and cigarette smoke. It is filled with men looking for a dream.I am that dream.Under the fluorescent red lights, I wasn't Zora Grey; the girl with a late parent and a mountain of medical debt just paid off days ago by an older man. I am a masked stripper named Sapphire.I grip the cold brass of the pole, arching my back until I can see the ceiling. My brown hair sweeps the stage, and as I spin, the world becomes a blur of greedy faces. But there is always one face that isn't a blur.In the VIP booth, Ethan sits like a king on a throne of sin.He is always there every Friday. He never cheers. He never throws crumpled bills like the others. He just watches and then pays triple to claim me.His eyes are like storm clouds: dark, heavy, and full of a lightning that makes my skin prickle even from across the

The diamond band on my finger feels like a shackle, cold and heavy enough to drag me through the floorboards. I stand in the center of the master suite of the Reynolds mansion, surrounded by the scent of expensive lilies and old money.I am Zora Reynolds now. The wife of a billionaire.But seeing Ethan here makes everything worse. I never told Arthur that I was once a stripper, a life I led out of pure survival to fend for myself and bury my debts. Arthur believes I am just a struggling girl who had lost her parents and had stacked up debt.My stomach twists. Will Ethan tell him? He has been a silent shadow since our introduction yesterday, watching me commit this ultimate fraud with those storm-grey eyes.The door behind me clicks shut."Arthur?" I turn, a practiced, gentle smile on my face. "I was just starting to—"The smile dies. The blood in my veins turns to slush.It isn’t Arthur.Ethan is leaning against the heavy oak door, his arms crossed over a chest that I know far too

The sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the breakfast feels like a spotlight on a crime scene. I feel exposed, raw, and aching in places I can’t explain to the man sitting at the head of the table.I’ve wrapped a silk Hermès scarf around my neck, the knot tight enough to make it hard to swallow. I’ve layered on enough concealer to hide a murder, but the skin beneath the silk is throbbing. I can still feel the ghost of Ethan’s teeth sinking into my flesh."You look a bit pale this morning, Sweetheart," Arthur says, his voice full of genuine concern. He’s sipping his tea, looking every bit the gentle billionaire who thinks he’s rescued a damsel. "Did you not sleep well? The first night in a new house can be unsettling.""I’m fine, Arthur," I lie, my voice sounding thin to my own ears. "Just a bit of a headache. The excitement of the wedding, I suppose."Across from me, Ethan is sitting there, draped in a charcoal-grey suit that makes him look like the devil’s

The air in the back of the Bentley is thick, tasting of expensive leather and the suffocating scent of Arthur’s cologne.Arthur sits in the front passenger seat, his profile relaxed as he hums along to a soft jazz track on the radio. He looks every bit the contented man. To him, this is a beautiful Saturday morning, a chance to spoil his new, young bride with a shopping spree at the most exclusive boutiques in the city.I am sitting directly behind Ethan.The driver’s seat is adjusted back, and even through the leather, I can feel the heat radiating from his massive frame. He is focused on the road, his large hands gripping the steering wheel at ten and two. He looks professional, the dutiful son acting as a chauffeur, but the way he watches me through the rearview mirror tells a different story.Every time our eyes meet in that small sliver of glass, my breath hitches. His gaze is a physical weight, stripping away my dress and my dignity."I’ve already called ahead to Valentino,"

Ethan’s fingers are a heavy, molten weight against my core, thrusting into me with a rough, rhythmic urgency that makes my head swim. His intent is crystal clear: he is waiting for me to fail."Sweetheart?" Arthur’s voice comes again, closer this time, filtered through the thick wood of the door. "Is the dress too small? I can ask the attendant for another size."Ethan doesn't pull away. Instead, he drives three fingers deep inside me, his thumb hooking over my swollen nub and grinding into it with a brutal, circular motion."Mmmph!" I bite my lip so hard I taste copper, my eyes widening in the mirror. I am trapped between the freezing glass and the furnace of his body."Answer him, mother," Ethan whispers, his lips grazing my ear as he continues to pump his hand. The sound of his fingers moving - squelch, squelch, squelch - feels loud enough to vibrate through the door."I-I’m..." I choke out, my voice trembling as a fresh wave of pleasure rolls through me.Ethan thrusts harder, h