Your Stepdad Novels & Stories

"Stop fucking Riley." I scoffed, bringing the glass to my lips, letting the burn of the liquor settle the irritation creeping up my spine. Who the hell did he think he was? My own son, standing in front of me, trying to dictate who I could and couldn’t have. I never expected that confrontation. Not from Nathan. "She’s your stepdaughter, Ethan." I let out a slow breath, rolling the whiskey in my glass. Nathan thought he understood, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.

My mind reeled as I stared at my phone, the message screaming a mixture of emotions. My stepdad, strict and unbending-a man who always demanded and never asked-was on his knees, beseeching me to beg Adrian, a prospective client, to grant him a very lucrative steel contract. Something was not adding up. My stepdad never begged, and the fact that he was doing so made my skin crawl.

Not standing beside Kelan pretending to be his perfect Luna, but plotting with Valor to take everything for ourselves. "I'm sure he'll her number tonight," I mentioned casually. "Finally stopped calling her every five minutes." "About time," Valor muttered. "His obsession with that girl was getting pathetic." "She's my step-sister you know," I revealed quietly. Valor's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Step-sister? You never mentioned that before." I set the glass down and walked to the window, looking out at the pack grounds below. "Her father was with my mother once," I explained. "Before he met Melissa's mother. My mother got pregnant but he denied it and moved on. Built a whole life with Melis

someone asked. Mother waved the question away. "Don't bring her up. She’s cut from the same shabby cloth as her grandfather." Phoebe stood like an outsider at the edge of the hall and watched me circulate through every corner. I cradled a glass of red wine and chatted animatedly with the scions of the elite. Stepdad clapped his hands and hushed the room. He took my hand and led me to the exhibition stage. "My daughter is eighteen now," he announced, "it's time I let her go out into the world." He smiled and handed me a bank card. "Studying abroad is different from staying here. Take care of yourself."

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.

Daddy caught me in bed with Jeremy Dettling, getting fucked in the ass and talking dirty. To make matters worse, I was, of course, calling Jeremy "Daddy". Because, yeah, I've got a total thing for my stepdad. And it's not as if I even grew up with him or anything. He was my stepdad for all of a year and he spent that traveling with Mom all the time.

We look like two people who are very good at not showing things. "How long have you been going to Marcus Chen's offices?" His voice is even. Quiet. The boardroom voice. I meet his eyes in the mirror. "A few weeks." He nods once. The elevator reaches the floor. The doors open. He walks toward his corridor. Takes three steps. Stops. Doesn't turn around. "He's your father." The words land flat and factual in the hallway. Not a question. I go still. "You knew." Also not a question. My voice is steady. I am holding it steady through real effort because underneath the steadiness something is getting very loud very fast.

she asked. I ran my hand through my hair as more thoughts crossed through my mind. “Maya, you are not part of your grandfather's will; your father says you are a bastard and your mom was a whore he spent just 1 night with." That was my father’s lawyer, a message from prison. Dad now calls himself my stepdad. All my life, it's been one sad tale or another; someone is always walking out the door, and no one looks back to know how I feel.

“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.”

Lush’s POV I sat at the long dinner table in my stepdad's big house. The party was full of rich people laughing and clinking glasses. But my eyes kept going to him. Alexander Voss. My stepdad's best friend. He was a billionaire who ran huge companies. He had this bossy way about him that made my body react. His jaw was strong, his eyes blue and sharp. He yelled at the waiters to hurry up, and it made me think of him holding me down, telling me what to do.