Page 13 of Exquisite Temptation

Chapter 8

Christopher

"I'mimpressed.Youandyour team have done a great job. I’ll look over the plans and get back to you if I have questions." I give Neil, the lead architect of our secret project, a face splitting grin.

"Sure, man, if you need anything, just drop me a message." He scratches the side of his salt and pepper designer beard while grinning back at me. Bobbing my head, I disconnect the Zoom call.

Exultation surges through me, lifting my already buoyant mood. Even the incessant drumming of the rain beating against the windows, which ordinarily would annoy the shit out of me, sounds like a beautiful melody this morning. After months of back and forth, the Seattle Department of Construction and Inspection has finally approved the proposal for our luxury residential Eco building. I glance at the plans Neil sent me. The luxury five-story apartment complex looks like an Eco heaven, which will be a massive hit with our target market of young urban professionals.

His team suggests we add triple-glazed windows to conserve energy and act as noise cancelation, so the residents won’t hear the busy traffic. He added a variety of solar panels on the south side of the building, a green roof terrace with sustainable bamboo flooring, seating area, and lush vegetation. Sadly, we live in a world where we hear daily about air pollution, food wastages, decline of wildlife, and climate changes, so I'm a great believer in doing my bit to help save our beautiful planet for future generations. I recycle obsessively, buy only produce from local farms, and have installed a geothermal boiler to generate hot water and heating in my house.

Pushing the chair, I get up and stretch, easing the tension in my sore muscles. I stroll to the kitchen to make coffee with Isis, my Siamese cat and my second shadow, trotting behind me. She perches on the stool, following my every move with interest the entire time while I make coffee. When I go back to my office, she jumps on my desk, rubbing my computer with her face. I sip the hot coffee, letting my mind drift to the delectable, dark-haired submissive. After the needle demonstration, I went back to the alcove, hoping to continue where we left off and potentially negotiate a scene. As a sadist, I have primal urges and desires, and, to satisfy them, I need someone who desires and consents to receive the type of pain I want to inflict. In my gut, I know she might be that person. The only problem is I don't know if I'm ready to break my rule of not playing with the same submissive twice. It didn’t stop me from searching the club high and low, but I couldn’t find her anywhere. The thought of her leaving with another Dom made me tense up like a string on a bow. With my mood down in the dumps, I got my stuff and left, too.

My phone goes off, diverting my attention. A soft groan escapes my lips as I stare at my stepmother’s name flashing on the screen. She must be calling to refresh my memory again about my father’s birthday bash tomorrow night.

"Christopher speaking. How may I help you?" I chuckle inwardly, knowing this will rile up the self-proclaimed queen of the Steele residence.

"Topher, darling, you can see my name on the goddamn screen. Why must you always be so vexatious?" she slurs, sounding like she has started the party already.

Tapping my pen on the desk, I wish I hadn’t answered my phone. She knows I don't like her calling me Topher, yet she keeps goading me.

"I'm super busy, Brianna. I don’t have the time for small talk."

"What have I done to deserve such hostility? Sometimes I wonder why I even bother being nice to you when you have no respect for me. I only called to remind you about your father’s sixtieth birthday party," she whines.

Is she serious? After everything she has done, she has the audacity to ask why I have no respect for her?

"I appreciate the gesture, but his birthday party is two weeks away, and you called me last week to remind me, so no need to do it again," I grind out the words, leaving no room for further conversation.

"Ah, it must have slipped my mind. You don't know how much time and energy it takes to plan and organize a birthday party." The sound of a muffled male voice and music in the background comes from her cell. "I need to go, Topher. I'm looking forward to seeing you."

"See you later,Mother." Her shrill laughter rings in my ears as I put the phone down.

I rise to my feet, strolling to the kitchen in search of more coffee, even though the situation warrants for me to have something stronger to calm my nerves. But, it's midday, and I have lots of work left to do.

Brianna does nothing out of the goodness of her heart. She is the epitome of the cold, calculated, and evil stepmother. She was barely twenty when she married my father, who was a forty-five-year-old wealthy and successful businessman. My stomach clenches, threatening to expel my breakfast when I remember her relentless pursuit of getting her filthy claws into me. For a fifteen-year-old, I was quite tall and muscular from all the training I was doing. She knew she was a young and attractive girl, so she used her body to seduce me.

In the first few months, whenever we were alone in the house, she would walk around the house dressed in tiny boxer shorts and a sports bra barely covering her breasts. As time passed, her inappropriate behavior escalated to brushing against me, running her foot to my crotch, or caressing my thigh under the table during dinner. I’d storm out, locking myself in my bedroom and going to bed hungry. She must have had a spare key to my bedroom because, frequently, after I’d come home from Aikido training, she would barge into my bathroom while I was taking a shower with an excuse of coming to remind me lunch was ready. Two weeks before I was due to leave for college, my father was on a business trip, and she took the opportunity to do the unthinkable. Vivid memories strike, punching me hard in the chest.

Amelia pushes me onto the bed and straddles me with her long, smooth legs. I have had a crush on her for as long as I can remember, but she is still dating Derek, the fucking captain of the football team. She rocks her hips, rubbing her pussy against my painfully hard cock. I pull her down, crashing my mouth to hers, and bite her lower lip, demanding her surrender. As our tongues clash in a war of dominance, I clamp my fingers on the soft flesh of her voluptuous hips and dry hump her, making her moan in my mouth. Fuck, this is so hot. Her juices soak the fabric of my boxer shorts, driving me mad with need to bury my cock inside her. She places her hands on my chest and lifts her head.

"Don’t move, baby. I'm about to rock your world," she coos, running her tongue across her plump lips.

Moving down, she pulls my boxer shorts down, releasing my cock, already coated in pre-cum. Amelia dips her head, tasting me and licking the tip of my head clean. Sliding my dick into her mouth, her tongue glides over my shaft in rasping strokes. Fuck! I knit my fingers in her hair, urging her on. She deep-throats me, choking on my throbbing cock, and bringing me closer to heaven with each thrust. I fight against the onslaught of sensations, struggling to hold on for a little longer, but the sweet suction of her mouth is too much, and with a growl, I shoot my cum down her throat.

I jerk awake, my eyes darting around my room. The intense moonlight floods through the open windows, catching the round angles of my stepmother’s face, still sucking my twitching dick. My sleep-muddled brain clears in an instant.

"Get off me, you fucking crazy woman!" I put my hands on her shoulders, throwing her off me and yanking my pants up in one swift movement.

"Topher, stop. Please!" Brianna whines, her high-pitched voice grating on my nerves.

Jumping to my feet, I swing open the door and tear through the house, sprinting straight to the dark woods behind our house. Cold sweat dampens my skin, my muscles trembling with exertion, but I coerce my legs to run faster. I come to a stop by my favorite oak tree. A sense of intense sickness and desolation sweeps through me. I wind my arms around my middle and bend forward, vomiting my guts out until I have nothing to bring up but a bitter bile.Please, God, tell me this didn’t happen. Please!The scent of my semen and the wet patch on my pajamas tell me it wasn’t a dream or a nightmare. I collapse on the ground, holding my head in my hands as my mind keeps replaying what happened like a broken record.Why did she do it? Was it my fault? Did I encourage her unwanted sexual advances by not telling my father? Will I ever feel in control again?

I come home in the early hours of the morning and lock myself in the bathroom. Standing under the hot stream of the rain shower, I scrub my body until it is red raw, but I know no matter how much I scour, I can never wash away the shame and guilt. I hold my hand against the tiles and hang my head as a guttural, incoherent cry rises from the depths of my soul.

As I spiraled into the dark pit of self-loathing and internalized anger, I became a party animal in college, hellbent on self-destruction. Until sophomore year, when I met Victoria, who introduced me to the kink community. Her infinite patience, understanding, and encouragement helped me recognise I needed professional help to process my trauma, forgive myself, and reclaim my power. I don't know where I would be now if I had never met her. To this day, I wonder if my father knew what was happening, but didn’t care enough to put a stop to his wife’s disgusting behavior. He continued working and traveling around the world, too busy to question why I never came home for the holidays. But on the rare occasions when I went home, I always brought Victoria or a friend with me, which used to enrage her.

With a long, exhausted sigh, I nudge myself from reminiscing about the past. I find it fascinating how the human mind operates. When we don’t drift in and out of the past, dwelling on events we can’t change, we jump into the future, predicting and catastrophizing about events that haven’t happened yet. Everything to avoid staying in the present moment. If there is perfect balance in nature and in the universe, I want to know why our brains are utterly imperfect, causing us so much pain and suffering.

---