Yours to Keep, Daddy: MM taboo collection

I think i have a crush on my stepdaddy 4

Mom’s trip stretched into two full weeks. The house became ours quiet, charged, dangerous.

I tried to keep my distance after that night on the balcony, but Vincent made it impossible. He was always there. Kind. Present. Looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered. Every shared meal, every moment in the studio, every casual touch while we worked made the crush burn hotter.

On Friday evening, we opened a bottle of red wine on the terrace. The sun had set, and the bay glittered under the moonlight. We’d finished my project earlier that day. I felt relaxed. Loose. Maybe a little too loose.

Vincent poured me another glass. His eyes lingered on me longer than usual.

“Olise,” he said, voice low and rough. “I need to tell you something.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. I set my glass down.

“I’ve been fighting this since the day you came home,” he continued. His big hands flexed on the table. “The way I look at you… it’s not how a stepfather should look at his stepson. I see you. Really see you. Your talent. Your heart. Your body. And I can’t stop.”

The air left my lungs. “Vincent…”

“I know it’s wrong,” he said, standing up slowly. “You’re twenty-one. I’m forty-four. I’m married to your mother. But I want you, Olise. I want you so badly it hurts.”

I stood too. My legs felt shaky. The pull between us finally snapped.

“I want you too,” I whispered. “I’ve been fighting it every day.”

That was all it took.

Vincent crossed the space in two strides and pulled me into his arms. Our first kiss was desperate, hungry, months of tension exploding at once. His mouth claimed mine, firm and demanding. I moaned softly as his tongue slid against mine. He tasted like wine and need.

His strong hands gripped my waist, pulling my softer body flush against his hard one. I could feel him already getting hard against my hip. The realization sent heat rushing through me.

“God, Olise,” he groaned against my lips. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

He kissed me deeper, one hand sliding up to cup the back of my neck while the other explored my back, then lower to squeeze my ass. I gasped into his mouth. My own hands roamed his broad chest, feeling the solid muscle under his shirt.

We barely made it inside. Vincent led me upstairs to his bedroom, kissing me the whole way. The moment the door closed, he pulled my shirt over my head. His eyes darkened as they roamed over my soft chest and belly.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, almost reverent. He kissed down my neck, sucking lightly at my skin. “These curves… I’ve wanted to touch them for so long.”

I whimpered as his hands explored me squeezing my chest, tracing my waist, gripping my hips. He was gentle but hungry, like he was memorizing every inch. When he pulled his own shirt off, I stared openly at his powerful body broad shoulders, defined chest, the trail of hair leading down.

He guided me to the bed and laid me down. Hovering over me, he kissed me again, slow and deep this time. His hand slipped between us, palming me through my pants. I was rock hard.

“Feel how much I want you,” he growled, pressing his thick bulge against my thigh. “You’ve been driving me crazy.”

I reached down and stroked him through his pants. He was big. Thick. The size made me nervous and excited at the same time. Vincent groaned at my touch.

We undressed each other slowly. When we were both naked, he pressed our bodies together. Skin on skin. Hard c**k against hard c**k. The friction was incredible. We rocked against each other, kissing desperately, hands exploring.

Vincent took control, kissing down my body. He spent time on my chest, sucking and licking my n*****s until I was moaning and arching. Lower still, he kissed my soft belly, my hips, my thighs.

When his mouth finally closed around me, I cried out. The wet heat was overwhelming. He took me deep, working me with his tongue and hand in perfect rhythm. I tangled my fingers in his hair, hips bucking.

“Vincent… f**k… I’m close…”

He pulled off just before I came, kissing me again so I could taste myself on his tongue. Then he wrapped his big hand around both of us, stroking us together. The sight of his strong hand on our c***s, the feel of his hard length rubbing against mine — it pushed me over the edge fast.

I came hard, spilling between us with a broken moan. Vincent followed right after, groaning my name as he coated my stomach.

We lay tangled together afterward, breathing hard. He held me close, one big arm wrapped around me protectively. His fingers traced gentle patterns on my back.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

I nodded against his chest. “More than okay. That was… intense.”

He kissed my forehead. “We don’t have to rush anything. I want you to feel safe with me.”

We stayed like that for a long time, kissing softly, touching, exploring each other’s bodies with calmer hands. The guilt was there, sharp at the edges, but the connection between us felt too strong to deny.

That night, we fell asleep in his bed. His strong arms around me. My head on his chest.

For the first time in a long time, I felt wanted. Truly wanted.

Even if it was the most forbidden thing in the world.