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Her Stepfather's Crush

Her Stepfather's Crush

5.0
Short stories Stacey 💜

"Fuck," he said, as his eyes lingered on my breasts. "If we do this, we do this my way." "Not a problem, Daddy," I said to be bratty, but when he lifted his eyes to meet mine, they were blazing. My pussy throbbed in response. He liked that. "Rule number one, you cannot tell your mother about anything we do." "I wouldn't." *** "Spread your legs, princess." I swallowed down any apprehension and did as he asked. "Mmm. Keep it bare, just like this. It'll feel better for you, and I love the soft skin against my tongue." I puffed out a breath at the thought of his tongue on me. He rubbed a callused finger down the bare lips of my pussy, and I shivered. Then he leaned down and gave it a lick. I moaned. So loud. *** It was already too much. I'd never had a tongue inside me, and it was heaven. "Please," I begged. "That feels..." All words faded from my brain as he started fucking me with his flexed tongue. I spread my legs as wide as they would go, hoping he could get deeper. I needed him deeper. "My tongue can only go so deep," Daddy said. "My cock can go much deeper, but you're not ready for that yet." "I am," I promised. "Please." Instead of answering me with words, he slid one thick finger inside me. I panted as it stretched me. I'd fingered myself but had been too embarrassed to buy a dildo. "Please, Daddy." *** Her Stepfather's Crush is a forbidden age-gap romance about dangerous attraction, love at first sight, and secrets that threaten to shatter everything. Trigger Warning: This book contains taboo themes, including a romantic/sexual relationship between a stepfather and stepdaughter. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

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I Designed His Dream House, He Built a Secret Family

I Designed His Dream House, He Built a Secret Family

5.0

I was in a high-end mall, browsing a toy store for my friend's daughter's birthday, when my world tilted on its axis. Through the polished glass storefront, I saw him. My husband, Julian. He was in the café opposite, seated beside the sprawling indoor children's play area. He wasn't alone. A woman, Seraphina Vance—a social media influencer whose perfectly curated life I’d occasionally scrolled past—was laughing, her head tilted just so. And between them, a little boy of about four, gleefully mashing a piece of cake into his own dark hair. Julian’s hair. They looked like a family. A perfect, happy family. An icy dread washed over me. I remembered Julian refusing to have a baby with me, citing the immense pressure of his work. All his business trips, the late nights… were they spent with them? I recalled a night six months ago when Noah had supposedly been sick. Julian had stayed out all night, his voice strained over the phone, telling me a "critical client had a medical emergency." The lie was so easy for him. I must have stared too long. The little boy, Noah, noticed me. He picked up a toy water pistol from their table, aimed it directly at me through the café’s open front, and squeezed the trigger. A jet of cold water hit my silk skirt, leaving a dark, spreading stain. Seraphina Vance turned, her eyes meeting mine. There was no surprise, only a flicker of amusement. She offered a saccharine smile. "Oh, dear. He's just playing with you," she cooed, her voice dripping with condescension. My heart hammered against my ribs. I turned and walked away, my legs unsteady. I needed to leave, to breathe, to think. In the underground parking garage, I fumbled for my keys, my hands shaking. As I passed Julian’s sleek sedan, something on the passenger seat caught my eye. A heavy, cream-colored card with embossed lettering. "You are joyfully invited to the Christening of Noah Thorne." It was real. More real than a fleeting email. A physical invitation to a life I never knew existed. How could I have been so blind? My phone felt heavy in my hand. I didn’t call my best friend. I didn’t call a lawyer. I called the director of the Zurich Architectural Fellowship, a prestigious program I had deferred for him, for us. "I'd like to accept the fellowship," I said, my voice eerily calm. "I can leave immediately."

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