All Chapters of On Your Knees, Stepsister: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

I didn't know how long I sat on that couch, staring at the door, long after Mr Stone left. He had given me a way out, something I had been looking for, all for just a prize. He only wanted Kaelin, and nothing more. All I needed to do was betray him, and I would get my freedom. It's as easy as that, yet, dangerous.I would have likely stayed on the couch all night thinking of Mr Stone's proposal, had my phone not buzzed with a notification.I already knew who it was before I picked it up. Kielin. He's the only one who contacts me. Busy trying to escape his influence and build a life for myself, I had secluded myself from friends, only socialising whenever I went to club and bar owners' meetings. “John has been waiting for over an hour now. What are you still doing in your office? Are you busy? Had a long day?” His text read.I glared at the phone. My anger, which had been at bay, returned with a vengeance. The guts of this bastard to sound concerned when he left me in that fucking roo

Yawning, I drew up from the bed, stretching. I rubbed my eyes and stretched once more as I reached towards his side of the bed and came up with nothing. I turned instantly, eyes wide. He was gone from the bed, and for one dreadful second, panic clawed up my throat. Again?Then I heard it, water running in the bathroom and the quiet clink of his toothbrush against the sink. Thank fuck.My shoulders dropped, and I blew out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding. God, I was pathetic. The door cracked open, and he stepped out, hair damp and shirt from yesterday wrinkled from how much I clung to him last night. When he saw me sitting up, he paused, gulping, like he wasn’t sure if I’d still be mad. I didn't blame him. He must have remembered how biting I was that first night and wanted to tiptoe around me, so I wouldn't rip his head off for just breathing.“Hey,” he said.“Hey,” I said back.Smiling, he leaned against the door frame and watched me, blue eyes scanning me. I did the same,

LYLAHI took my time, even though I wanted to nod the moment he asked that question. Spending the day with him meant I got to see him more instead of spending my entire day trying not to think of him disappearing.“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. You're busy and won't —”“I'm not doing anything,” I said before he could take back the offer. “That's if you don't think it's a bother,” I added, turning my face away from him so I could look out the window.“It's not.”“Then it's settled.” I folded my arms and just stared out while he started humming. We stayed that way for a few minutes, me looking out the window and pretending to be focused on the cars zooming past us, and him humming to the tune of a song I didn't recognise.“What did you do this past week?” I asked, cutting through his humming. I turned to look at him, just in time to see him tighten his grip on the steering wheel before letting go.“Work,” he responded. “It's basically boring stuff,” he added.“Oh.”That wasn't the

LYLAH I don't know what came over me. I'd never been interested in guns, and the old Lylah wouldn't have ever asked him to bring me here. Maybe because I was eager to know more about him, to get into his world, or because a part of me was still hoping to work for Mr Stone. I just didn't know what it was, and I didn't have the time to think it through. When I asked to visit this place, I just wanted to test him, to know if he would take me to a place, which is undoubtedly his money factory. I might be a novice in underground business, but that doesn't mean I don't know what they mostly deal in.Since he wasn't dealing with drugs, the guns had to be his major means of livelihood. And to think he brought me here only because I asked?Even though he didn't take me to the main room, where I had no doubts, thousands, if not millions, of guns lay, it was enough to know the place.I followed Sty, while Kielan pretended like he wasn't paying attention to me even though I felt his eyes on me,

“Then take it.”I thrust forward, burying myself to the hilt in her tight, wet heat. A scream tore right from her throat as her inner walls clamped around me. She collapsed forward onto her forearms, her back arched, taking every inch. I stayed still, letting her feel the full, stretching fullness.“God,” she sobbed, the word muffled by the bedding. “Oh, God.”“Not God,” I growled, pulling back slowly until just the tip remained, then driving into her again, hard. “Daddy. Say it.”“Daddy!” It was a cry, torn from her soul.I set a punishing pace. Deep, claiming thrusts that shook the bed frame, that pushed her up the mattress with every drive. Her moans were continuous now, broken by gasps. I braced one of my hands on the headboard, while the other tangled in her hair, pulling her head back and arching her throat.I could feel the tension coiling in her, the telltale tightening of her muscles, and the sharp, high pitch of her cries. She was close. So close. I slowed, drawing my thrust