Page 27 of My Soul for Sale

“So fucking tight. So wet. You like when stepdaddy fills your cunt?”

“Oh, God!” I cry, my body tensing up.

What the hell is wrong with me? Why is him calling himself stepdaddy as he fucks me so hot? It should turn me off. He was, in fact, my stepdad and while he’s not now, it still should feel wrong. Right?

He doesn't let up, thrusting ruthlessly into me with forceful short, quick movements. I’m going to have countertop bruises from this. I just know it.

“Come, Sloane. Come on stepdaddy’s cock.”

“Yeeeees! Shiiiiit! Ahhhh!” I scream as my orgasm washes over me like a tidal wave. Quickly, I bury my face in my arm, muffling my cries. With my eyes squeezed shut, my toes curl as my pussy spasms around him.

“Goddamn,” he grunts and then stills, his hot cum filling me.

When he’s finished, he pulls out, setting me back on the floor.

I can't bring myself to meet Ripley's gaze, my eyes fixed on my feet as tears well up, blurring my vision.

This is so fucked.

The first few drops trace a path down my cheeks. I betrayed Atlas, he just told me he still had feelings for me. And now, here I am, freshly fucked by his dad.

A wave of nausea hits as I realize I just fucked the same man my mother did. It disappears just as fast and switches to a wicked smile. While the thought should freak me out, it doesn't. Instead, it feels like a small act of defiance, like I stole something from her finally.

I turn away from Ripley and bolt out of the kitchen, up the stairs to Atlas' room. I need to get my clothes and get out of here.

Inside, I push the door closed and lean against it while my tears continue to flow.

Was the money and Grandma’s house worth this feeling?

Chapter Fifteen

Sloane

I’m full blown panicking about what just happened. The need to get out of here is riding me hard. But leaving means forfeiting my funds, a risk I'm not quite ready to take. For now, all I know is I have to get away from both of them.

I frantically start picking up the mess of clothing scattered across the floor, remnants of last night's events.

Atlas' voice pierces through the chaos, his tone a mixture of confusion and concern. "What are you doing, baby? Come back to bed."

I freeze, tears already staining my cheeks. Ignoring him, I turn my back and struggle to regain my composure.

As I bend to slip on my panties, he sucks in a sharp breath and I tense.

"What the hell is that?" he demands.

"What's what?" I murmur, whirling around, panties forgotten. I can barely hear myself over the sound of my pounding heart.

His eyes narrow. "The handprint," he growls, his tone sending prickles across my flesh. He prowls toward me.

Slowly, I retreat backward until my back hits the door and I stare at him, memorizing every piece of his handsome face, so when he kicks me out, I won’t forget him.

"Did you fuck my dad, Sloane?" he asks.

I shrink under his scrutiny, wishing I could disappear into the floorboards. I can't bring myself to lie to him, not after what he told me last night. I've never been much of a liar, anyway. He searched for me—he wants me, and the thought of betraying his trust is unbearable.

With tears now flowing freely, I confirm his thoughts.

“I don’t know what happened,” I sob.

---