All Chapters of Step Daddy’s Naughty Girl : Chapter 1 - Chapter 5

Greer’s POVI stood in shock as I stared at my stepfather's eight-inch cock, unable to look away as my eyes traced the lines of the veins on it. This was wrong, I told myself. I already had a crush on his son, Wells, who was my stepbrother. How could I compound it by also being attracted to his father?There was no momentary answer I could give except to stare, and when it became obvious that I was staring, I turned back immediately, ignoring him and the unexplainable gaze I had seen in his eyes as I wondered what had just happened. Had I been desiring my own stepfather? I asked myself before I continued walking. But before I continue, allow me to take you back to where it all began...The Rhys mansion rose like a dark jewel against the cliffs of Havenridge, all sharp glass and cold stone that caught the late-afternoon light and threw it back in shards.My mother, Veda, stepped out of the chauffeured car first, heels clicking with purpose, her smile already in place like armor. She lo

Greer's POV I closed the door so softly it barely clicked. Then I stood there in the hallway, back pressed to the cool wood, heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat. My legs felt unsteady, like the floor might tilt and drop me any second.I had just seen my stepfather naked. Not just naked—thick. Veined. Eight inches of him hanging heavy between his thighs, the kind of cock that looked made for slow, deliberate ruin. I squeezed my eyes shut. Tried to shake the image. Counted backward from one hundred. Pictured cold water. Winter wind. Anything clean and safe. It didn’t work.The picture stayed. Burned behind my lids. The way the veins curved along the shaft, the slight upward tilt even soft, the dark hair at the base. I could almost feel the heat of it if I let myself imagine reaching out.I pressed my thighs together. A shameful throb answered between my legs. Wet. Instant. Wrong. I was supposed to want Wells. Wells, with his easy smile and gentle touches. Wells, who h

Greer’s POVI didn’t expect him to stay. Ater I fell, my cheek pressed hot and trembling against the thick, straining bulge in his slacks. I braced for the inevitable: the sharp step back, the muttered apology laced with regret, the door closing behind him as he fled down the hall. I braced for shame to crash over me like cold water, leaving me kneeling alone on the rug with my face burning and my heart in pieces. He didn’t move. Neither did I.My hands stayed braced on his thighs, fingers sinking into firm muscle that quivered beneath my palms like taut wire about to snap. His cock throbbed against my cheek through the wool hard, insistent, alive in a way that made my own pulse stutter. His hand remained in my hair: heavy, warm, fingers loosely threaded as though he were caught between cradling me and holding himself back from something irreversible. Maybe he was afraid to grip too tight. Maybe he was afraid to let go at all.My breath came in shallow, uneven puffs that fogged the d