Todos los capítulos de HIS CHUBBY STEPDAUGHTER: Capítulo 51 - Capítulo 60

MICHELA; Miles held the door open and I slid into the passenger seat. He opened the back door next, and Skye jumped in with her whole body full of excitement, claws clicking against the seat as she turned in a circle and looked from one window to the other. I glanced back at her and let out a small laugh despite the weight on me. She looked like this was the best day of her life. I pulled my seatbelt across my chest and locked it. Miles got in on the driver’s side, started the engine, and pulled away from the house. For a while neither of us spoke. Miles kept smiling, just a little, like something private was sitting behind his eyes and making them brighter than they should have been after the visitors we just had. That was what unsettled me most. After Nathan and Mr. Greenwood’s visit, I had expected hardness from him… a tight jaw, that dark look he got when he was angry, maybe even silence that felt heavy. Not him looking almost carefree. I started to wonder if he was pre

MICHELA; The closer we got to the house, the quieter the truck became. Even Skye, who had started the drive restless in the backseat, eventually settled with her head on her paws. I turned and caught her sleeping peacefully. The forty-five-minute drive seemed to have tired her out. I yawned lazily, stretching my body as my eyes wandered around the serene neighborhood. It was nothing like the bustling city we had just left behind. It was more like a place for the selected few who valued their sanity and wanted to live life and enjoy the quiet of nature. I clung to the window, watching every tree, wide lawn, and taller gates sweep by. “Aren't we in paradise already?” I joked. “You think you like it here?” Miles scoffed. “Aside from being a little off-city, I love it here,” I answered without looking back at him. “Right,” he said. “How does he do it? I mean, your brother, how does he go to work from here? Or is the company somewhere around here?” I asked, sitting back i

MICHELA; Celeste saw it. I knew she did. But she looked away, her eyes falling on Miles, her lips curved a little like the man she was married to wasn’t an exact copy of Miles. Her mouth held its polite curve, but her gaze kept slipping to Miles with a quiet, hungry attention that made my fingers tighten around my fork. When Miles reached over and gently dabbed a trace of sauce from the corner of my mouth, something in her expression flickered. She lifted her water too fast and coughed softly into the glass, as if she was choking on something. Myron never darted her a glance. Instead, he filled his mouth with some of the food. Then his foot found mine again. I pulled farther back until my knee touched Miles’s leg instead. This couple really seemed not to be interested in each other. I couldn’t help but imagine the kind of relationship they had. Then Miles’s mother set her fork down, the sound forcing eyes in her direction. She picked up a napkin, dabbed the corners of her

MICHELA; He led me to the railing and turned me toward the open dark. “Grab the railings,” he ordered. I did, hands curled instantly around the cold metal. Miles moved behind me, steadying himself as he spanked my ass hard, soft flesh bounced under the dinner dress. “Fleshy. Soft. All for Daddy,” he grunted against my ear. I whimpered, tension causing my fingers to tighten even more against the railings. I looked down, the grounds of the house stretched out wide, soft lights at the far end. The house suddenly felt quiet. And above us, the moon shone like it was about to bear witness to whatever Daddy wanted to do to me tonight. His hands moved over my waist, then lower, gathering the fabric of my dress until it rested high around my hips. The thin panties underneath were already damp, soaked from every time he touched or seduced me with his words. He felt that at once. A low sound left his throat as his fingers slid between my thighs and found the wet heat waiting

MICHELA;I looked up from the open fridge, the cold bottle still in my hand as I twisted the cap non-stop.Celeste stood in the kitchen doorway in a soft beige robe, her hair loosened from the careful style she had worn at dinner, covering every other part of her skin the robe had missed. Without the formal dress and rigid posture, she looked different… softer, even though her eyes looked tired. Her tired eyes moved over my face, then to the water bottle, then back again.“I make the best coffee in this house. Oh! It’s late already,” she said, already stepping into the room. “I don’t mind the time, anyways.”I tightened the cap further. “I’m fine.”“You don’t look fine.” Her voice was gentle enough to lower my guard by an inch. She walked past me, opened a cupboard with easy familiarity, and took down two mugs. “Chamomile tea. Or do you prefer coffee this late?”“I said I’m fine.” I almost snapped.She filled the kettle anyway. I stayed by the fridge, robe pulled tight around me, th