The briefcase hit the floor with a thud, the sound echoing my own heart's sudden, violent rhythm. I walked into the living room expecting the usual quiet, but found a scene that set my blood on fire. Carly was on the couch, underneath some boy, her legs locked around his waist. Her shirt was pushed up, exposing the soft curve of her breast, and her face was flushed, lost in a pleasure that instantly, shamefully, made my cock harden.
The boy scrambled off her, stammering apologies, and I kicked the door shut behind him. The silence that followed was heavy, thick with a new kind of tension. The anger was still there, but it was mixed with a raw, possessive hunger. I walked over to the sofa, my eyes fixed on her as she frantically pulled her shirt down. She was trembling, looking up at me with wide, frightened eyes.
"Don't," I said, my voice low and rough. "Don't cover up. I want to see what you were so eager to show him."
She hesitated, her hands fluttering, before letting the fabric fall open. "Chris, I..."
"You think you can just bring boys into my house and act like a little slut?" I leaned in, crowding her against the cushions. "Is that what you are, Carly? A little whore?"
The words were meant to hurt, to punish. And she flinched, but as she looked up at me, I saw her lips part. Her pupils dilated. She wasn't just scared. She was turned on. The realization hit me like a physical blow, and it drove me insane.
I grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. "I'm trying to teach you a lesson," I whispered, my voice ragged. "So you don't embarrass me. Or yourself."
"Don't," she said, her voice trembling but clear. "I won't do it again."
I pulled back, a frustrated growl in my throat. "You don't get it, do you? Your mother..." I stopped, the confession tearing its way out of me. "She doesn't do things for me anymore, Carly. She's always too tired. She doesn't want to."
I was laying myself bare, exposing my pathetic need to my stepdaughter. It was humiliating, but it was the truth. I was starved for a woman who wanted me, and looking at Carly, I didn't see a kid. I saw a woman. I saw the curve of her hip, the swell of her breasts, the innocence in her eyes that was a thin veil for a deep, dark desire.
"She never takes care of me," I continued, my thumb tracing the line of her neck. "I come home to a cold bed. And you..." I looked her over, my gaze possessive. "You're all grown up. You're beautiful. And you know exactly what I want."
I wanted her. I wanted to bury myself inside her, to feel her tight, wet heat clamp around me. I wanted to mark her as mine. The thought was wrong, a line I shouldn't even be able to see, let alone cross. This was my stepdaughter. Taboo. Wrong.
"I know," she whispered. She reached out, her small hand resting on my chest, feeling the frantic pounding of my heart. "I understand, Chris. I know you need it. I know Mom is being selfish."
She knew. She understood. And she was offering.
The last thread of my control snapped. I didn't think. I just acted. I grabbed her waist and hauled her up against me, my mouth crashing down on hers. The kiss was brutal, a desperate clash of teeth and tongues. Her taste was sweet, like strawberries, and it only fueled the fire in my blood. I didn't care about rules or consequences. I just wanted to fuck her. I needed to.
I didn't give her a moment to think, to reconsider. I pushed her to the sofa, dropping her back onto the cushions where she had been. Before she could move, I was on top of her, my weight pinning her down. I had to get out of my clothes. My suit jacket was a cage, my tie a noose. I tore at the knot, my fingers clumsy with lust. The tie fell away, followed by my shirt. I stared down at her, her chest heaving, her lips already swollen from my kiss.
"Chris..." she breathed, her hand rising to touch my jaw.
I couldn't answer. I just leaned down and kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the taste of her. My hands roamed her body, pulling her shirt up and over her head. Her bra followed, and I drank in the sight of her perfect, young breasts, her nipples hardening in the air.
She was exquisite. Forbidden. Mine.
My fingers fumbled with the button on her jeans, then the fly. I yanked them down, along with her panties, and she was naked beneath me. The sight of her smooth, glistening pussy made my cock ache. I knelt between her legs, spreading them wide. I had to taste her. I lowered my head, my tongue tracing her slick folds. She gasped, her back arching, her fingers tangling in my hair. Her taste, her scent, the way she moaned my name—it was intoxicating. I ate her out like a man starved, sucking her clit, flicking it with my tongue until she was writhing beneath me.
"Chris," she panted. "Please, I need you. I need you inside me."
I looked up at her, my face wet with her juices. I needed to be inside her, too. I stood and kicked off my pants and boxers. My cock was rigid, throbbing with need. I positioned myself at her entrance.
"I'm going to fuck you, Carly," I growled, my eyes locked on hers. "I'm going to fuck you hard."
She smiled, a wicked, knowing smile. "Yes, Chris. Do it."
With a hard thrust, I buried myself inside her. She was incredibly tight, a hot, velvet grip. I held still for a second, letting her adjust, feeling her body clench around me. Then I began to move.
I pulled out almost all the way before plunging back in, hard and deep. She cried out, her back arching, her nails digging into my shoulders. I didn't hold back. I fucked her with a desperate need, trying to claim her, to make her mine. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, a primal rhythm to our forbidden act.
I gripped her hips, using the leverage to drive into her even deeper. Her moans grew louder, more desperate. I could feel her inner walls fluttering around me, clamping down as she got closer.
"Chris, I'm coming," she cried out, her body shuddering.
The sight of her face contorted in pleasure, the sound of my name on her lips, sent me over the edge. I thrust one last time, deep and hard, and emptied myself inside her. We collapsed together, both of us breathing hard, slick with sweat. I pulled her close, my head on her chest, listening to her heart hammer against my ear. I had done it. I had crossed the line. I had fucked my stepdaughter. And it was the most incredible thing I had ever felt.
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