Novelas y relatos de Taboo Stepfather

“It left me feeling really upset, and I just needed some space away from home.” “Oh,” she says, her voice laced with understanding. She nods slowly, processing what I’ve shared. “The CEO of the company, right?” I’m not surprised that she knows. But somehow, her recognition doesn’t feel judgmental. It feels... safe. She doesn’t seem like someone who’s looking for gossip. “Yes, he’s my stepfather,” I confirm, my voice low. “I just need some time away from the house until I can calm down and figure things out without making everything worse.”

But no, he plays the family man now. I slammed my bedroom door, the city lights glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows like mocking stars. My fucking bathrobe slipped off one shoulder as I sighed, annoyed about him trying to play father figure even though he had fucked me senselessly before. That image wouldn't fade—Daniel's bulge straining, thick and insistent. My pussy clenched at the memory. Messy? Yeah, beyond fucked up. Stepdad fantasies aren't for the faint-hearted. But I was soaked already, nipples tight against my tank top.

I gave him nothing. When he left, the room felt colder. Julian turned back to me. “See? No force.” “You’re isolating me,” I said. “I’m clarifying you,” he corrected. “Everyone who touches you does so with selfish intent.” “That’s not true.” “Isn’t it?” he asked softly. “Your stepfather hides secrets. Your brothers want what they shouldn’t. Your mother hides the past.” “And you?” I asked. “What do you want?” Julian studied my face.

“You’re his—oh god—” “Say it.” He thrust harder, punctuating his words. “Tell them who’s fucking you.” “Jake’s father—” I moaned, shame burning through me, making everything more intense. “My ex’s dad is—*fuck*—” “That’s right.” He leaned over me, chest against my back, mouth hot against my ear. “And you love it, don’t you? How wrong this is. How fucked up. The taboo makes you wetter than anything else ever has.”

"Busy doing what? Why haven't I seen you around? Mom mentioned something about a wedding, but I didn't think it was this." My stomach dropped. Mom had told him? They were still in touch? I had assumed they were out of my life now that Rufus was in the picture. "We... we're all good. It's just been a lot." "Just a lot?" Jake pressed. "You look like you're in love. Or terrified. Which one is it?" I didn't know what to say. How could I explain to him that I was in love with my stepfather? How could I explain that I was addicted to the way he looked at me? The way he controlled me?

My legs were heavy, my inner thighs aching with every stride, a constant reminder of the weight and power that had claimed me just hours before. As I neared the house, I could hear the shouting. "How could you send my sister out at night? Why would you do such a thing? It’s the full moon for crying out loud!" Eric’s roar shook the wooden walls. "I’m sorry, Eric," Molly’s voice was high and defensive. "Your sister was sick, so I thought Willow should—" "Step-sister!" Eric interrupted, his voice dripping with venom. "Your daughter is my step-sister, Molly. And you sent Willow out at night for what? To get a herb? We both know it’s all a lie just for me to fuck your daughter's pussy!"

He squeezed gently, thumb brushing over my nipple through my bra. “Fuck, Emma,” he groaned softly. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you like this.” I moaned before I could stop myself. The taboo of it hit me like a wave — this was my stepfather. The man who raised me after Mom died. And here I was, letting him grope me in the kitchen while his friends were twenty feet away. His other hand slipped into my leggings, fingers sliding straight into my soaked panties. “So wet already,” he whispered, two fingers gliding through my folds. “My good girl is dripping for her stepdaddy.”

Two people at a table, both of them learning what this is, the specific shape of a thing neither of them has had before and both of them needed. This is what a father is. This specific thing, right here.. a cup of ginger tea placed without being asked, a nod that receives enormous things without flinching, two words that mean I will hold this with you. I don't want to do it alone anymore. I heard myself say it and thought.. that's new. That's the first genuinely new thing I've said in years.

"Of course not! I mean— I have a lot in my plates. Since your father is serious, I could make up some things about him too. Tell me which sounds more fun to be on a headline. Zino killed his son to get his step daughter since immorality flows in the family or— stirring immorality between—" "Enough," I blurted. "Haven't you done enough already?" "You have no idea what's even in store for you," she told me. "Do you want to take a guess it you'll rather it unfolds in your very eyes? If I was you, i'd choose the latter. Knowing them may just kill you already." "You're disgusting." "Not the first time I heard that. By the way, which is more disgusting? Me or getting pregnant for your step brother

I immediately gasped because it hurt from the night before. “That’s enough!” I heard my stepfather’s voice from behind. “Bastard!” I sneered at him. He was the worst, except he was religious and believed that a woman should be married before having sex. Leaving aside his religious beliefs, he would have raped me because he has abused me in every other way. “Enough with all of this; let’s get to the real reason we’re here,” my stepfather told Bruno. Then he snapped his finger, and one of Bruno’s men wheeled in a wedding gown on a stand.