All Chapters of Stepbrother's Filthy Toy (An Erotica Collection): Chapter 341 - Chapter 350

SIENNA.“Tell us everything,” my mother said the second we sat down. “The suite. The beach. Did the two of you even leave the room?”Cole pulled my chair out like he was still playing the good son-in-law. The second my ass hit the seat his hand was under the linen.“Cole,” I whispered, smiling at my father so no one would hear the panic.He did not answer me. Two fingers found me already wet from the car, from the way he had looked at me in the hallway when my mother hugged me too long and asked if I had lost weight. He pushed in to the second knuckle and stayed there, casual, while he accepted a glass of wine with his other hand.“The suite was perfect,” I said.His fingers curled.I had to keep talking. I had to keep smiling. My mother was watching my face like she could smell the salt still on my skin.“Ocean view?” my father asked, already cutting into the bread.“Yes.” The word came out thin. Cole added a third finger without looking at me. Slow. Thick. He stretched me open under

Sienna.“Sit. Both of you. The floor is clean enough,” my mother said, already reaching for the bottle.I sat.Cole sat.The conversation moved the way it always did after a mess. My father started on the neighbor’s fence again. Maya scrolled under the table. My mother talked about how the lighter wine would have been smarter. No one mentioned the way I could not keep my hands still or the wet patch I was sure had soaked through to the chair.Cole’s hand stayed in his lap.I knew what was on those fingers. I could still feel the stretch of them. I could still feel how close I had been when the dish hit the floor.My mother turned to pour.Cole lifted his hand.He thought no one was looking.He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean. Slow. Thorough. The same way he had done it in the suite when I was still shaking and he would not let me close my legs. He did not rush. He tasted me like I was the dessert he had been waiting for all night. First the index finger, then th

Eden“Move. Now.”His voice is a rasp. He is still on his knees between my legs, cock thick and dark and already wet at the tip where it juts from his open slacks. My mother’s voice carries across the lot again, closer this time, calling my name like she is two rows away from finding her daughter with her new husband’s dick in her hand.I do not think. I slide forward on the leather, grab his shoulders, and sink down onto him in one messy drop.The stretch punches the air out of me. He is bigger than the two fingers he just had inside me and he does not give me time to adjust. My cunt is still fluttering from the orgasm and it fights him for a second, then yields, taking him to the root until my ass meets his thighs and I can feel him throbbing against my cervix.“Fuck,” he breathes against my throat. “Tight. So fucking tight after you just came.”I lock my knees on either side of his hips and try to breathe through it. The door is still only half shut. Night air licks the sweat on my

TESSA“Write something nice. He didn’t have to do this.”Mom set the blank thank-you card on the kitchen counter next to the tuition check. Thick cream stock. His name already printed on the envelope in her handwriting. The check was made out for the full semester. Campus housing. Books. The number was big enough that my stomach tightened just looking at it.“He’s in the study,” she said, already turning back to the stove. “Door stays open until the card is done. Then you take it to him and get his signature. Be polite.”I picked up the pen.The house was quiet except for the clock and the low sound of his chair in the study. My stepfather. The man who had been writing the checks since he married Mom two years ago. The man who had started looking at me different the week I came home from freshman year.I wrote the safe version first.*Thank you for covering this semester. I really appreciate it. I’ll keep my grades up.*It looked like a daughter. It sounded like a daughter. My hand was

TESSA.“Did he sign it?”Mom was at the sink with her back to me, like this was just another errand. I stood in the kitchen doorway with my knees still burning from the rug and Grant’s taste still in my throat.“Yes,” I said. “It’s in the mail.”It was not in the mail. It was locked in his desk.Grant made me come back every evening that week to check if it went out.Monday he did not even let me speak. The study door was shut. I knocked, dropped to my knees in the hall, and crawled in with nothing in my mouth this time because the card was already signed. He pointed under the desk.“You said it was mailed,” he said, opening his belt. “Prove you still want the envelope to leave this room.”I took him down my throat again. He held my hair and used my mouth until I gagged, then kept me there while he told me, quiet and calm, that Mom thought I was helping him sort files. He came on my tongue and made me show him I had swallowed before he let me stand. The check stayed in the drawer.Tues