Stepson Novels & Stories

Selene Harper lay on her bed, hating herself even as she touched herself. Her heart pounded. What was she doing? Kai Mercer was her stepson. He was only 21 for God’s sake. But, hell, he looked good. Too good. Young and toned and tan. Dark eyes and hair. That sweet, kissable mouth. An image of him using that mouth on her pussy made her groan. She couldn’t help but slip her fingers beneath her panties to rub her swollen clit.

Stephano was a dear son to Mr Foyer because he was always there for his daughter. “I am well Mr Foyer. I am only worried that Rose gets better and takes her medication. She accidentally spilled her soup so the maids should make another one for her.” Stephano repiled with a wide smile and Rose was bubbling with anger at how shameless he was in making conversations with her father like everything was just normal.

Damien continued, his voice softening, "I want to introduce you to our son. His name is Caleb." The room seemed to close in on Stephanie as she stared at the boy, her son, for the first time. It took every ounce of her strength to hold back tears, overwhelmed by the reality of the moment. She felt her father's hand loosen his hold on hers, allowing her to make the next move.

I must look a sight with the tear marks on my face, lips swollen from kissing, barefoot, and wearing just a shirt – his shirt, judging from his words. He stepped forward and offered a hand. “I’m Stephan, Devon’s weird cousin, “ He added with a laugh. “If you are just coming from that room –“ He inclined his head in the direction of the room I was just coming from, “that means you’re into the dark art of love-making.” His eyes raked me up and down, lingering on certain parts of my body and making me blush. I suddenly wished Devon was close by, something about his cousin scared me.

“Because the way that heart monitor was spiking, I thought you were flatlining—turns out you were just getting your freak on.” I didn’t even flinch. I just smirked, my voice low. “What can I say? Love’s a hell of a drug.” Alex made a gagging sound, dragging a chair across the floor and plopping into it like a pissed-off babysitter. “Y’all are insane. Like actually. Ariana, your leg has staples in it.” “And your head is stitched like Frankenstein,” I shot back. “What’s your point?” Alex pointed between us like he was solving a crime. “You two are step-siblings. This is forbidden, illegal in several countries, and definitely against hospital policy.”

I had always been proud of my stepson Alan. He was always helping out in any way he could, and after his father died, he really stepped up to the plate by getting a job to help pay what bills he could and doing a lot of work around the house that’d usually be reserved for a man. He was more like a man than he realized, though at least in terms of maturity. He had maintained his superb grades and earned a scholarship to the local state university.

He turned me around to face him. Up close, Julian Vane was terrifying. He was forty-two, nearly twice my age, with silver hitting the temples of his dark hair and eyes the color of a winter sea. He’d been my stepfather for three years, a man of few words and cold checkbooks. I’d spent those years avoiding him, ducking into hallways when I heard his heavy tread, feeling his gaze on the back of my neck at every dinner. “Julian, let go. People are watching,” I hissed, glancing at the few lingering mourners.

“You should go,” Stephan said, voice low and strained, even as his body stayed rooted in place. His eyes flicked down again—over the sheer robe clinging to my still-hard nipples, the soaked black thong barely covering my freshly fucked pussy. “This isn’t right. I’m your stepfather. I came here for… fuck, I don’t even know why anymore. Let me leave, Jade.”

I came here to escape the darkness of the club, only to realize I’ve walked directly into the heart of the abyss. And this time, there is no end to the Friday shift. Tomorrow, I will be a Reynolds. And tomorrow, the man who knows every inch of my shame will be my step-son.

Rae leaned against the counter, her hip cocked, one hand resting on the flour-dusted surface. "You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. Every time I ask for lessons, you find an excuse. Why?" "Because this is complicated," Ian said, running a hand through his hair. "You’re my stepdaughter." "Step," Rae emphasized. "Not blood. And I’m twenty-two so I am old enough to know what I want." "And what do you want?" The question slipped out before Ian could stop it.