by CORY CYR
The room had an adjacent office, which he could use for a temporary studio. The optimum word being temporary.
After his possessions were dealt with, I went into the kitchen to make coffee. Hartman had gotten rid of all the help months ago. I since had rehired our old housekeeper Melga, having her come twice a week. The mansion was too spacious for me to maintain. If he wanted this house, he could take it. I planned to sell it anyway. One of my goals had been to purchase a smaller-sized loft in Soho, closer to Salacity.
Once the coffee finished brewing, I poured myself a jumbo mug. I had a feeling once the antichrist arrived, I’d need it.
And just like that, he was there, waltzing in as if he already owned the place. “Have some for me?”
My eyes observed him as I set down my mug. Snug jeans paired with loafers and a short-sleeved T-shirt. All his lavish tattoos splashed on both arms. The man’s hair was unkempt, as if he just rolled out of bed. He definitely appeared different from last night. Today, he was casual and relaxed. Every other time, I’d witnessed a rigid personality littered with constant sarcastic retorts.
His skin art interested me. I’d seen plenty of tattoos before, but these were unique. I wasn’t close enough to get a clear picture, but most of them seemed to be dark themed and none had color. I considered the possibility he might have more on other parts of his body.
My skin felt impossibly tight as I continued my surveillance. I was wearing spandex capris and a thin top, with only a sports bra underneath. I crossed my arms in front of my breasts to avert his eyes from noticing my erect nipples. His mocking gaze told me he already knew. I padded over to the thermostat and pretended to turn up the heat. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing everything about him screamed seduction.
“I suppose I’ll get it myself, then,” he said with a huff as he walked toward the coffeemaker.
“What, on top of everything, you expect me to serve you coffee, too? Will you be requesting an éclair with that, master?” I asked sarcastically.
He laughed. “Those never appealed to me, although I do enjoy crème filling.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“So I’ve been told. But at least tell the truth. Having me here excites you just a little bit. And while I don’t expect you to serve me, a better word would be service. I do expect that.” He took a sip of his coffee.
I felt my breath shudder as I took in his words. Every feature on this man was perfection. From his pristine pierced brow to that mouth. His lips were the kind women spent thousands to create with injections. Pouty and perfectly shaped, his mouth definitely made you consider carnal acts. He was sin waiting to happen. Unfortunately, that exquisite face and body were tarnished by the fact he wasn’t mute. He would undoubtedly be perfection if he never uttered a single word. Sinful and silent.
He unnerved me. Everything about him broadcasted, Caution ahead! And he was already beginning to unhinge me by encouraging sexual thoughts in my head. Maybe this didn’t have to be morally wrong. It was only sex. With my dead husband’s son. My stepson. Oh my God, the only valid reason I could come up with was the gallery. And regardless of that, it still made the entire ordeal unsavory. Even Coco would have issue with this. Not with me sleeping with Wicked the artist, per say, but Kieran my stepson. And doing it solely to save our business would horrify her. No matter how inhibited she was, she would find all of this reprehensible.
“So where am I sleeping?” he asked, arching one eyebrow.
“You made it clear you wanted to be in your father’s bed, so I put you in one of the downstairs guest rooms.” I choked back a snort. “Your father was too sick to climb the stairs, so he opted for his own room on the main floor. I’m sure you’ll find it to your liking. I had your easels and art supplies set up in the connected office. Enjoy. I’m off to Zumba class.”
I tossed my mug into the dishwasher and strolled toward the front door. “Please, rinse out your mug when you’re done and put it in the dishwasher. I’m not your maid,” I said as I grabbed my keys and purse. I could hear him cursing under his breath. It made me snicker quietly.
“Yes, Mom.”
Seriously, I cringed. I’d take the prick over my knee if I knew he wouldn’t get off on it. Vile asshole.
Twelve
Kieran
I drained my remaining coffee and tossed the empty cup into the sink. Who in the fuck did she think I was? I owned this house. I owned Wick Global and the gallery. And above all, I owned her ass. She was mine until I said otherwise.
It had been ten years since I set foot in the mansion. My family home looked different. My father would never let my mother change anything. She’d tried for years to redecorate, but the old man wanted it gloomy and dismal like him. I assumed he’d mellowed with age and beautiful pussy. The house wasn’t dark anymore. It had become light and colorful. The furniture had a soft palette, while the carpet was deeper with a bold statement of colors. All of my father’s expensive art procurements still adorned the walls, but in between, there were vases of fresh flowers and feminine touches. When I was fourteen, this house seemed so big to me. Now it was just a brightly lit estate housed with dark memories, I wished I could forget.
There were only six guest rooms on the main floor, so I found mine easily. I could tell immediately the space had been remodeled. The walls smelled of fresh paint, recently laid carpet, and even the vintage furnishings looked new. I opened the doors to the adjoining room. I could visualize my father in this space. It looked like one of his work places.
Ellery had moved the desk against one wall to make space for my easels. I hadn’t planned on painting. My schedule would be occupied with her.
I roamed throughout the house, inspecting every detail. I poured myself a brandy while in the library and prepared to go upstairs. I wanted to snoop.
Her bedroom was like a different world. Never mind the area itself, but even the air smelled different. She might not have the talent to be an artist, but she had a flair for color and decor. Her sense of using soft shades mixed with vibrant hues was amazing. She had an eye for matching fabric and texture. This room was definitely hers. I could tell right away that my father had been banished long ago to his own area. This was her sanctuary. Her keep. And I had full intentions of storming the castle. But my plan would never work unless she willingly came to me. There would only be satisfaction if she cared for me.
I lay on the bed, inhaling her scent. Just the aroma that was instinctively hers made my dick weep in response. I needed to be inside her soon.
Rifling through her drawers, I found she had quite a panty collection. I pocketed two pairs.
The room was spotless, compulsively organized. No signs of sex toys or even a diary. I was rather disappointed. I had hoped to get an inner feel for her via a journal or daybook. If she did keep one, it was well hidden. CDs and DVDs were neatly stacked. No porn. Figured as much. She appeared too vanilla. I moved into her bathroom. No shower, just a deep walk-in Jacuzzi. The old man must have had that installed after he booted out my mother and me. Ellery had expensive cosmetics, skincare, and bath products. She had a thing for candles, too. There were several burned down to the wicks around the tub. Even this room was thick with her fragrance.
Once I was finished upstairs, I went back to my room. With nothing to do, I began to sketch.
I needed to get laid. Luckily, I’d given my digits to the girl on the flight over here. I mean, the blowjob was definitely good enough to warrant my phone number. I hadn’t remembered her name, but fortunately, she’d called me. Landy was a very off-Broadway actress who modeled nude on the side. True, my objective was to fuck my stepmother. But I knew that would imply work, and I needed relief now.
Ellery came home a few hours later. Her hair appeared damp and her face glistened with sweat. I pursed my lips in anticipation of licking off all the perspiration as I fucked her.
“You’re settled in, then?” she asked as she tossed her purse on a table.
I nodded. “Yes, the room will do for now… until you allow me to share your bed,” I mused.
She laughed meekly. “You specifically said you wouldn’t force me.”
“And I meant it. But I also mean for you to follow the terms of our deal. If you want that gallery, I want you and all that entails.”
“Do you honestly believe sleeping with me will make up for what your daddy did? God, you’re a grown man… Get over it. It’s obvious you have issues, but what happened to you was not my fault. Your father caused me agony, too. What you’re doing makes me feel like he’s still lashing out from beyond the grave. Let it go, Kieran. You do not have to be him, and fucking me will not make your pain go away.”
I was livid. “You’re right. Fucking you won’t placate jack shit. But he took everything I ever loved away from me, and I plan to do the same. I don’t have all the details, and maybe he never loved you, but he cared for you—I think more than anyone he ever had before. So maybe fucking you will only take the edge off what that man owes me. Regardless, I plan to enjoy it and savor every moment. And just maybe by the time I’ve used you fully, I’ll feel some kind of satisfaction.”
“What would your mother think?” She appeared shaken as she asked.
This woman outraged me, and I felt the veins throb in my neck as a steady ticking began in my jaw. I was a breath from her in two strides. “NEVER bring up my mother,” I roared. She quickly retreated from me, but I grabbed her left arm. “You don’t get an opinion on anything. You have one job and one only, and that is to fucking please me. It’s only been six hours, and I’m already tired of you. You grate on my nerves,” I whispered, pulling her into me. “Even as much as I despise you, I still want you. Can you feel how much?” I ground my cock into her so she could feel how hard I was.
“Get away from me,” she hissed, pushing me backward.
“You can fake your distaste for me all you want, but I know women. I may not be what you want, but, baby, I know I’m what you need. You should be ashamed of yourself, lusting after a younger man, your own stepson. Maybe I was wrong and you are as wicked as I am. Tell me. If I were to release my cock right now, would you get on your knees?”
“You are delusional,” she replied in a hostile tone. It sounded like resignation. She was yielding to me. My mind ran rampant as I thought maybe I should unzip my pants and witness her submission.
I watched as she backed out of the living room and darted for the stairs. The slam of her bedroom door echoed throughout the large house.
I took the stairs two at a time and stood at the top. I could hear the bath water running. Jesus, how I wanted to strip naked and join her. That tub was large enough for us both. I tightened my fists by my sides as I envisioned her wet and bare. Voluptuous breasts, a flat stomach that lead to the triangle of her mound. The bitch was nothing but a master manipulator, creating a hard-on wherever she went. Every time I was around her, my cock stiffened. I strolled back downstairs to my room and called Landy. I changed my shirt and sprayed on some cologne. I’d take her to a nice hotel. We’d get room service, and then she could return the favor and service me. I wanted the entire menu tonight. Because waiting for Ellery to come to me was becoming an obstacle instead of an option. I wasn’t sure how long I could maintain myself. It had only been one day, and I wanted to hurt her and fuck her into compliance. There had never been any woman that could push me this close to the edge. Until her.
* * *
I’d forgotten how Landy’s lips felt wrapped around my cock. I prided myself on holding back. I was exceptional sexually. But as soon as her tongue licked across my crown and around my piercings, my mind flashed to Ellery. And I was done. Even Landy looked surprised as my release splashed into her mouth. Once I emptied all I had, I pulled her swollen lips from my dick and positioned her on the bed. I grabbed a condom off the nightstand and carefully rolled it on. Dangling her ankles over my shoulders, I sank deep into her. I kept my eyes closed as I saw Ellery’s face with every stroke. My cock rammed into her while I gripped her throat. I clenched my teeth in concentration as I fixated on causing my stepmother discomfort.
“Hey, it kind of hurts. Can I bring my legs down?” Landy whined as the sweat from my brow dripped onto her breasts.
I could hear her voice shaking. I allowed her legs enough slack to comfortably lie on my shoulders. I was panting from the sensation of wanting to burst. I looked down and watched as my cock moved in and out of her. Between the visual and the sound, my body began to vibrate.
“Fuck,” I shouted as I thrust three more times, spilling my seed into the latex barrier. I pulled out and, with attentive patience, removed the condom. I collapsed next to her as my heart pounded through my chest.
I felt her nails lightly rake my chest as she turned on her side toward me. “That was interesting. Kind of rough but good,” she cooed as her hand fumbled with my cock ring. “I didn’t realize you could wear condoms if you had jewelry like this.”
“There’s so much you don’t know, sweetheart. If you have money, you can buy anything you want, and what I had made is fucking armor for my cock. Removing a lorum is a pain in the ass, especially considering how often I like to fuck.”
“Well, see, we do have something in common, because I also love to fuck, and I would so like to again right now.”
“Would you now? I think that can be arranged. It appears I have eleven condoms left in the box. Let’s get started.”
Thirteen
Ellery
The man infuriated me. I woke up to an empty house. Which was fine since it meant I wouldn’t have to serve his highness any coffee. Asshole. After our altercation and my shower yesterday, I found he’d left. I almost sighed from relief. But it was obvious it could be short lived, since someone had given him keys. I presumed it was Preston.
I bolted my bedroom door last night. I had locks installed when Hartman was still able to climb the stairs. I knew sleep would never come if I were worried all night that Kieran would show up. I wondered if he’d been a devilish child, because he was seriously an evil man. Holding my gallery as collateral for his wanton sexual desires. He didn’t have to work as hard as he thought. I would sleep with him if he promised not to hurt me.
Beautiful, alluring, and creative. He was like touching fire. Except in his case, you wanted to be burned. Who wouldn’t want that? But he soiled all his attributes by spouting his constant bullshit. I had years of practice dealing with his father. I certainly could handle this man-child. I was convinced my heart had hardened. I laughed. Because it wasn’t my heart that was the problem right now, but down below. My lower half craved him. And it pissed me off. I loathed having these thoughts of being a voluntary participant.
And how could I trust him to keep up his end of the bargain? Yes, I had the document Preston had drawn up, but it was tenuous at best. With all his resources, Kieran could annihilate that agreement.
I called Coco and told her I wasn’t feeling well. I lied. He was ruining everything—my friendship, my work, and eventually, my sanity. I was afraid if I went to work, he would call or, worse, show up. That would leave me no option but to confess everything to my best friend. I needed to own up before that happened.
I walked into the library and settled into Hartman’s favorite chair. This was the room where we’d met. Where it all began. A single alternative route that one night and my life could have been different.
A knot settled in my chest as I wiped away a single tear. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Things were supposed to be better. Goddamn that man. We needed to have sex and be done with this. Currently, I found him physically attractive, but soon, I would hate the entire package.
“Miss me?”
I snapped back to reality as I jumped. My heart began to palpitate as my eyes settled on a completely naked man. Sweet Mother Mary. I felt my jaw drop so far it was close to dislodging. Did he look taller without clothes? I only saw tattoos on his arms. Arms dense with muscle and toned from extreme exercise
and long hours of painting. A single gold ring dangled from each nipple. My breathing became shallow as my eyes explored farther down. Washboard abs and a V so indented it could cut glass. This man worked hard to keep his body in pristine condition. I softly sighed as I bit my bottom lip. I tried to avert my eyes from dropping below his waist. Oh Jesus, his cock was huge even flaccid and pierced with two rings. The art piece that had so fascinated me was a damn selfie.
I blushed profusely as I lifted my eyes to stare at him. His masculine laugh caught me by surprise. “Why… are… you naked?” I stammered.
He started to move toward me. The rings in his body glimmered as he moved.
“Don’t like what you see?” he asked as he whisked his hand across his chest and allowed it to drift down and cup his balls.
Holy crap. I closed my eyes in an attempt to block him out. I felt flush with a hunger I had never known. He was taunting me.
I shrugged in an attempt to portray indifference. “Yeah, great body—too bad it’s attached to such a douche. So why are you sans clothes? Inquiring minds want to know.”
“I need to take a shower after a filthy night of fucking. Want the details?” He smirked as he stepped back away from me.
“Absolutely not. I do not need to know about your tawdry affairs. Just take that—” My eyes glanced at his dick. “And either cover it or shower it before you get disease all over the furniture.”
“Jealous.”
“Hardly. What you do is not my concern, but know this.” I lowered my voice. “If I ever do sleep with you, and that’s a big IF, I want proof that you don’t have every STD known to mankind coursing through your veins.”
He smiled with confidence. “So you have thought about it. Maybe I wanted to show you a preview of what could be yours, at least for a while.”
I rolled my eyes at his superior ego. “Please go away.”
