SEVEN NIGHTS WITH MY STEPFATHER novel Chapter 28

Chapter 28

His hands never rushed.

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They skimmed the waistband of my jeans, tracing the skin just above it with the same deliberate patience he used when he adjusted a light meter, as if every millimeter mattered. His eyes stayed locked on mine, dark and unreadable in the red glow of the exit sign, daring me to stop him.

I couldn’t move.

He leaned in and kissed my forehead, soft, almost tender. Then the highest point of my cheekbone. Then the corner of my mouth, so close I felt the heat of his breath but not the pressure I suddenly, desperately wanted.

I stared at him, lips parted, heart battering against my ribs.

His palms slid upward, under my sweater, over my ribs, until they cupped my breasts through the thin cotton bra. My nipples were already hard aching from nothing more than proximity. When his thumbs brushed over them, I jerked, hands rising instinctively to push him away.

He caught my wrists before I made contact, pinning them gently but firmly against the shelf beside my head.

“I know you like it,” he murmured, voice low enough that it vibrated through my bones.” When your breasts are touched like this.”

He rolled my nipples slowly between his fingers, tugging just enough to make my back arch. A helpless sound caught in my throat.

He dipped his head, lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“I saw it,” he whispered. “The video. Everett in the bathroom. His mouth on these perfect little nipples. The way you moaned for him instead of screaming.”

My eyes flew wide.

Video?

There had been no camera. I would have seen-

He read the shock on my face and smiled, slow and devastating.

“Tiny lens in the smoke detector,” he said. “I always know what happens in my house.”

The betrayal hit like ice water, but before I could process it, his hand was moving again, down my stomach, unbuttoning my jeans with practiced ease. The zipper rasped too loud in the silence.

“Cassian-” I started, panic spiking.

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Chapter 28

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“Shh.” He slipped his fingers beneath the lace of my panties, parting me, finding me shamefully slick. “You’re so wet, Ivy.”

I bit my lip hard enough to taste copper, trying to trap the moan that wanted to spill out.

He sank to his knees in one fluid motion, tugging my jeans and panties down to mid-thigh in the same movement. Cool air hit my exposed skin; I panicked, glancing frantically toward the

end of the aisle.

“Jonas is downstairs,” I hissed. “He’ll-”

“He won’t hear a thing,” Cassian said, voice calm eyes fixed on me like I was the only thing in the universe.

He hooked one of my legs over his shoulder, opening me completely. The position left me balanced precariously against the shelves, one hand clutching a row of art books for dear life.

He looked at me for a long second, spread and trembling in the dim red light, then leaned forward and kissed me there-soft, reverent, right on my clit.

I jolted, a strangled sound escaping before I slapped my free hand over my mouth.

He licked me slow, deliberate, tongue flat and warm, tracing every fold like he was memorizing me all over again. When he circled my clit with the tip of his tongue, my hips bucked involuntarily. He hummed approval, the vibration shooting sparks up my spine, and did it again.

My fingers found his hair, pulling hard, not sure if I was trying to drag him closer or push him away. He didn’t care. He sealed his lips around my clit and sucked gently, steadily, while two fingers slid inside me, curling, stroking that spot that turned my knees to water.

I was already climbing, embarrassingly fast, every nerve screaming. My muffled moans vibrated against my palm, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back against the books.

He didn’t let up. He licked and sucked and finger-fucked me with devastating precision until the pleasure crested so sharply I saw stars. I came hard, thighs clamping around his head, whole body shaking as wave after wave crashed through me. He kept his mouth on me through all of it, drawing it out until I was sobbing behind my hand, oversensitive and boneless.

Only then did he pull back, lips glistening, eyes black with want.

He rose slowly, pressing his forehead to mine, one hand still cupping me possessively.

“Still think you can walk away from this?” he whispered.

Somewhere below, Jonas called my name again, closer this time, footsteps on the stairs.

Cassian smiled against my lips.

“Run if you want, little girl,” he breathed. “But we both know you’ll be wet for me all night.”

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He stepped back, licked his fingers clean while watching me struggle to pull my jeans up with shaking hands, then turned and disappeared between the stacks like a shadow.

I stood there, back pressed to the shelves, legs barely holding me, tasting myself on the air and hearing his promise echo in my head.

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