Sleeping With My Ex-boyfriend's Father Novels & Stories

I stated and took the bold steps of coming closer to Fred. Fred's expression went blank,he couldn't fathom what I just said. “What the heck are you saying?! Kate? Which father? I don't understand.” Fred asked, his brows squirming in confusion and I understand him. This kind of news takes longer to process. The girl he had been nurturing was sleeping with his father behind his back and he had stayed like a fool waiting for her to accept him and love him back. “Andrea has been sleeping with your father, Fred. He paid off her debts and demanded for Andrea to be his submissive. They were enjoying themselves and you know what? Andrea has been falling in love with him, not you.” I revealed with a

I nodded, swallowing and trying to force myself not to grab his muscular arms and place them on my waist while grinding myself on his hard cock. However, he was right. Today was Sophia’s birthday. The last thing she would want to witness was me squeezing my ass against her father’s manhood. My eyes moved over again but I forced myself to look away. I didn't want to, god, I didn't want to. Herth inched closer, his sweet menthol smell filling the bathroom. His eyes glazed over and I was sure his wolf was at the surface, staring at me. “Meet me in the penthouse later.” His breath spread across my ear, making me shiver with anticipation.

Curiosity made me click on it, but what I saw made me freeze on the spot. It was a picture of Justin... And a familiar man. 'Dad' The caption... Just a single word. But that wasn't the problem. It was the fact that his dad looked familiar. My fingers trembled as I slowly zoomed in on his dad, and my breath stuttered the moment I recognised the man. It was the man from earlier. The one I slept with. He was Justin's dad…

Nothing that required a second glance. I went back upstairs. Sat on the edge of the bed. Took the card out of my pocket and looked at it for a long moment. Then I lay back, stared at the ceiling, pressed both hands flat over my face, and said it out loud because saying it out loud was the only way to make something feel real. "So." My voice came out muffled against my own palms. "I slept with my best friend's father."

Maxim chuckled with a condescending look at Avery as if assessing a worthless object, “She betrayed your son with another man, have you forgotten?” “So?” Leonard's tone was as flat as his expression when facing Maxim. Maxim stepped closer to his father, “Father, are you crazy? She's my ex-wife.” He rubbed his face roughly, “What were you thinking, marrying her without any of us knowing?” “Go inside, Avery,” Leonard asked, and the woman immediately obeyed, stepping inside Leonard's private quarters, leaving the man and Maxim behind. Leonard looked seriously at Maxim. “You, get out of my sight right now,” he ordered.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you, and seen even more.” The double meaning landed like a slap. David beamed, clueless. “Isn’t she stunning? Told you she’s a catch.” Alexander’s eyes never left mine. “She is exceptional.” Heat crawled up my neck. I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. I just stood there with our gazes locked, like we were unable to look away from each other. The man who came inside me four nights ago was my fiancé’s father. My knees almost buckled under me. What now? What happens now?

For a moment—just a moment—his touch was gentle again and almost tender but when I finished heaving and he handed me a warm washcloth, his face was a mask I couldn't read. I cleaned my face with shaking hands, unable to look at him. "I married my ex-fiancé's father." "Technically, you married me before he was your ex." His tone was dry but there was an edge to it now. "So really, he's your husband's son's almost-bride. Or—fuck, the grammar doesn't work." "This isn't funny!"

Then he stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You slept with my father.” There it was. The sentence that had been set on fire and thrown at the world. “You seduced him,” he continued, words slurring slightly now. “You crawled into his bed because you wanted his money, his name, his power. Do you know how stupid you look.So this was what you meant by saying I’d regret leaving you?” My chest burned. “You should stop talking,” I said quietly. He laughed again, louder than before. “Why. Afraid someone will hear the truth.”

“I thought I might start by introducing myself to his father.” He smirked, just slightly. “Stepfather.” “Details,” I said, turning to face him fully. “Such fragile things. Like trust. Like bloodlines.” A flicker of something crossed his face, could it be approval? Curiosity? It was gone before I could name it. “Careful, Miss Virelle,” he murmured, stepping closer, so close I could smell the quiet heat of his cologne smelled of cedarwood and something older. “You’re playing a game where even the winners bleed.”