All Chapters of But Stepfamily shouldn’t know, How you taste like : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Lily P O V I’d been hearing it for months—ever since I turned eighteen. Every night, when the house went quiet and Mom was either asleep or out with my stepfather, I’d catch the low, rough groans coming from Ethan’s room. My stepbrother. He’d moan my name like a prayer and a curse all at once. “Fuck… Lily…” At first I thought he was possessed or having nightmares. Then I realized what it really was. He was jerking off to my name. The thought should have disgusted me. Instead, it made my panties stick to my skin and my clit throb so hard I had to bite my pillow to stay silent. Some nights the sounds were soft, almost desperate, like he was trying to hold himself back. Other nights they were raw and unrestrained, the bedframe creaking just loud enough that I could picture him sprawled across the sheets, fist working hard, head tipped back against the pillow. I started timing it without meaning to. Ten minutes after the house settled. Sometimes longer if Mom staye

“Yeah,” Ethan answered smoothly, his voice a little rough. “Just fighting for the blanket.” Kara rolled her eyes. “You two are weird.” The rest of the movie was pure torture. I kept grinding my soaked pussy against Ethan’s massive nine-inch cock under the blanket while Christian Grey dominated the screen. Every time the actors on the television moaned or the soundtrack swelled, I used the noise as cover to roll my hips a little harder. The thick ridge of him pressed right between my cheeks, hot even through the layers of fabric. I could feel him leaking, the front of his sweatpants growing damp where I sat. My stepbrother’s hot breath fanned my ear as he panted, “I know you’re saving up to buy a dildo… If you let me taste you, I’ll get you one. The best one.” “Fuck… Ethan, you’re depraved,” I whispered, my cheeks burning. But I couldn’t resist. I dragged my shorts to the side under the blanket, dipped two fingers into my dripping cunt, and pulled them out glistening

Lily P O V “I’m fine,” I said quickly. Ethan held up a pair of socks like they required deep concentration. “We’ve got it under control.” Mark nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Alright. Laptop’s in the study. I’ll grab it and head back out. Text if you need anything.” He turned and walked off down the hallway. We listened to his footsteps, the soft creak of the study door, the rustle of him collecting his things. Every second stretched. The washer kept rumbling. The dildo kept buzzing deep inside me, and the pressure that had been so close to breaking earlier was still there—held only by sheer panic and the need to stay silent. Ethan didn’t look at me. He kept folding, slow and methodical, but his free hand brushed the side of my hip once in a silent question. I gave the tiniest shake of my head. Not yet. We heard Mark’s voice again from farther away—something about keys—then the front door opened and closed. The house settled back into quiet except for the machine and the frantic r

My phone started ringing in my pocket. I froze. He pulled back slightly, lips glistening, eyes dark with frustration. “Leave it,” he growled against my thigh. But the screen lit up with Mom’s name. Reality crashed back in. I shoved his head away gently and scrambled for the phone, heart hammering. “It’s her. I have to answer.” He sat back on his heels, jaw tight, but he let me go. I tugged my dress down and answered, trying to sound normal. “Hey, Mom.” “Sweetie! I’m so glad you picked up. I just had the most exciting idea and I need your help right away. Come downstairs!” I glanced at Ethan. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking like he wanted to throw the phone across the room. “Okay… I will be right there.” The second I hung up, he stood and pulled me against him. “This isn’t over,” he whispered, voice rough. Guilt and heat warred in my chest as I slipped out of his room on shaky legs. Downstairs, Mom was practically glowing in the living room, surr

The next morning, I sat at the dining table helping Kara with her literature assignment. She was being her usual rude self—slouched in her chair, scrolling on her phone between answers, sighing dramatically every time I corrected her. “God, Lily, you sound just like Mom. It’s not that deep,” she muttered, rolling her eyes as I explained the symbolism in the poem for the third time. I forced a patient smile, still sore from yesterday’s throat training. My voice was slightly hoarse, but I hid it well. “It is that deep if you want a good grade, Kara. Just write it like this.” She copied my notes grudgingly. As I leaned over to point at her notebook, Kara suddenly squinted at my hair. “Wait… is that catarrh in your hair?” she asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Gross. Did you sneeze or something?” My stomach dropped. A thick, dried streak of Ethan’s cum must have landed in my dark strands yesterday when he finished down my throat. Heat rushed to my face. “It’s aloe vera,” I lied