SEVEN NIGHTS WITH MY STEPFATHER novel Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The redhead left right after lunch, waving cheerfully as Cassian walked her to the door. I stayed in the kitchen, stacking plates, trying to anchor myself in something ordinary. The clatter of dishes, the smell of lemon soap, the cold water on my wrists. Normal things. Safe things.

Click.

The sound made me freeze.

I turned slowly.

Cassian stood in the doorway, camera raised, lens pointed straight at me. The afternoon light poured through the windows behind him, catching the silver at his temples, turning his eyes storm-gray.

“What are you doing?” I asked, voice barely above the running tap.

He lowered the camera just enough for me to see his face.

“You look beautiful like this,” he said, soft but certain. “Just stand there. Let me show you what I see.”

I should have laughed. Should have told him to stop. Instead I stood rooted, water dripping from my fingers, heart suddenly loud in my ears.

“Turn toward the window,” he said.

I turned.

Click. Click.

“Hands in the sink again. Lean forward a little. Good.”

The commands were gentle, almost conversational, but each one landed between my legs like

a touch. I obeyed without thinking, letting the dishes sit, letting him direct me the way he had directed dozens of women before me.

“Take the sweater off. Slowly.”

My breath hitched. I glanced toward the hallway, half-expecting someone to walk in. No one did.

I pulled the sweater over my head, let it drop to the floor. The cool air kissed my skin; I wore nothing beneath but a thin black bra.

Click. Click. Click.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Now the bra.”

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Chapter 23

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My fingers shook, but they moved. The clasp opened. The straps slid down my arms. I let it fall.

He didn’t speak for a long moment, just circled me slowly, camera firing in short bursts. My nipples tightened under the weight of his gaze, under the knowledge that he was capturing every inch of me.

“Jeans,” he said, voice rougher now.

I unbuttoned, unzipped, pushed them down along with my panties in one motion. Stepped out of them. Stood naked in the middle of his kitchen sunlight striping my body, goosebumps racing over my skin.

I waited for shame.

It never came.

Only heat. Only trust. Only the dizzying certainty that in this moment, with him, I was safe to

be seen.

“Hands on the counter,” he said. “Arch your back a little. Look at me over your shoulder.”

I did.

Click. Click.

He stepped closer, camera still up, but his free hand brushed my spine, tracing the curve like he was memorizing it.

“Spread your legs. Just a little.”

I widened my stance.

Click.

He groaned, low and helpless.

“Turn around. Face me.”

I turned.

He took one final shot, then set the camera on the island with deliberate care.

Two strides and he was on me.

His mouth crashed into mine, hungry, desperate nothing like the controlled man who had just directed me. I kissed him back just as hard, hands fisting in his hair, pulling him closer. He lifted me onto the counter, the cold marble shocking against my bare skin, making me gasp into his mouth.

“You drive me insane,” he rasped against my lips hands already shoving his jeans down. “I’ve photographed hundreds of women. Thousands. Not one of them ever made me this fucking hard just from looking.”

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Chapter 23

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He stepped between my thighs, cock hot and heavy against my entrance.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, heels digging into his back.

“Who are you?” he whispered, almost reverent, eyes locked on mine. “What the hell did you do to me?”

I leaned forward until my lips brushed his ear.

“I’m your stepdaughter,” I breathed.

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