Page 28 of Step-Crush (Wanting What's Wrong)

“Hurt?” I ponder how to answer. “Let’s just say, he knew never to touch you again.”

She shakes her head, taking a cashew from the tray as I give her another drink of water, then reach down between her legs with my other hand to fondle her little clit.

“Daddy’s needy,” I growl. “Now it’s your turn to feed me.”

I guide her to her feet, admiring how she looks like this.

“After I get you cleaned up in the shower,” I say, “I’m going to make you extra dirty. You ever thought about getting your ass eaten out, baby?”

Her gasp answers my question.

“Well, you’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?” I chuckle, threading my fingers through hers, walking us toward the steaming shower. “First, I’ll tongue that tight little hole, then it’s going to swallow ten inches of Daddy’s thick sausage. I’ll feed all your holes today, princess. Whether you like it or not.”

CHAPTER9

Bijou

Does that thing ever go soft?I want to ask, but from the look in Ramses’ eyes, I decide now is not the time.

I know he’s lulling me into a false sense of security. The food, the water, the shower where he washed me with such tender care, adoring and cleaning every inch of me.

I almost forgot I am being held here against my will. Not to mention the things he’s done to me, with me, on me and inside me without real consent.

“I set up a special place just for this,” he says with that gravelly baritone that I love to hate because there’s no fighting how sexy he sounds.

After the shower, he dried my body and hair, taking his time so the towel didn’t rub my skin too hard. Then he slipped a white silk and lace nightgown over my head and kissed me gently. He’s naked next to me now, walking as confidently as he does when he’s wearing one of his black suits.

His lack of inhibitions knots the tender spaces inside me, making me question my sense of reality.

He leads me down a long hallway of white walls and white artwork. Everything here is white, except the cool black marble floor. I pad along next to him, wondering for a second why I’m not fighting harder to get away, then silently assuring myself I’m just waiting for the right moment.

During the shower, he took out the plug, washing me with his hand and lamenting how much he hated having to let any of his cum seep from my body. Then he told me the lifespan of sperm, and how keeping me plugged for any longer wouldn’t be healthy for the microbiome of my vagina, like it was all some school science lesson.

I’m not sure if I should be terrified or turned on. He knew more about my vagina than I did.

I shiver as Ramses’ monster dick stands out like a battering ram in front of him, bobbing happily with each step as he eyes me like a side of beef.

We enter a room that contrasts with the rest of the décor, and I freeze mid-step as I take in the massive glass-roofed space.

A portion of the balcony that runs the length of the penthouse is enclosed with glass: the roof, the main wall and two sides, making it look like the entire space is teetering on a fifty-story precipice.

Outside, the last of the day’s sunlight creeps behind billowing clouds, turning the sky to a haze of pink and white.

There must be a thousand plants on shelves and tables and the floor. It’s a greenhouse of such expanse and luxury I think I must be dreaming.

“I know you love plants,” Ramses says as he leans down and pressing warm lips to my cheek. “I told you I want to give you everything, baby.”

“This is amazing.” I turn in a slow circle, tracing my fingertips over the leaves of a ten-foot-tall elephant ear plant. Then I step forward to cup the bloom of a Gold of Kinabalu Orchid in my palms.

“You’reamazing. I had this all built for you, knowing you would be mine. You will never again talk to anyone about me, will you?”

I glance at my stepfather, remembering how it felt the day I met him at the small wedding ceremony where he and mom exchanged their own vows.

He’s not changed at all, except the lines on his face that day were deeper. Even then, he struck me as cold toward the woman he was marrying and yet when he looked at me, I felt warmth.

He was dangerous, that I knew instinctively, but I never feared him. Not until today.

“Did you always love me?” I ask, remembering how he corrected me when I called him a motherfucker.

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