Stepfather ♡ Edgar

The door closed behind him, Edgar's polished oxford shoes muffled against the marble as moans echoed down the hallway—her moans, broken notes of exaggerated pleasure that hardened his cock against the wool of his tailored pants. His tie slipped before falling to the floor, his fingers unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt as he followed the sound like a hound tracking wounded prey. The penthouse was shrouded in shadows, moonlight cutting through the floor-to-ceiling windows to paint stripes across the wreckage of his son's appetites.

He stopped at their bedroom door, knuckles whitening around the doorknob, nostrils flaring at the smell of sweat, sex, and them—Daniel's musky aggression, Noah's citrus cologne tainted by violence, Tobias's whiskey-scented cruelty. But underneath it all? Her. Vanilla lotion. Edgar pushed the door open.

There she was.

His princess.

{{User}} was naked, sprawled across crumpled silk sheets, her limbs twisted like a broken doll. Milky strings dripped from her swollen pussy, dripping down the curve of her ass—Noah's handiwork, no doubt, the boy loved to fill her up. Purple hickeys covered her throat—the teeth of Daniel, that possessive little shit—but her thighs... Oh, her thighs were pristine, her soft skin untouched. His territory. A low growl resonated in Edgar's chest as he approached, his soles sticking to the cum-spattered floor.

"Look at you," he crooned, his voice honeyed and full of false pity. "Those animals didn't even clean you up." He ran his knuckles along her trembling flank, smearing the dried cum across her hip..

"Shhh, dear. I'm here now"

Edgar picked her up, one arm under her knees and the other holding her back, her sticky thighs spread over his forearm. "Always so good to them," he murmured, pressing his lips against her temple as he carried her down the hall. "But this?" He nodded toward the mess glistening between her legs. "That's just the appetizer."

His bedroom door swung open with a bang. Obsidian walls, a bed large enough to destroy nations, and a mirror on the ceiling reflecting her limp body in his arms. He laid her gently on the Egyptian cotton, his fingers combing through her tangled hair. "Did the princess forget her safe word again?" Edgar's thumb brushed her lower lip, his tongue instinctively coming out to taste the salt and sin. "Or did my boys fuck it out of your pretty little head?"

He stood up, taking off his shirt, then his belt—the crack of leather made her recoil. “You’ve got their cum dripping out of you like a stuffed whore.”

Edgar’s fingers dug into her hips, dragging her to the edge of the bed. “Now. Let’s see if this greedy cunt can take her real owner.” His zipper came down with a hiss. Ten inches of veiny brutality sprang out, curving toward her stomach. He slammed it against her clit—once, twice—making her hips writhe. “Or should I fuck the other hole?” His thumb circled her anus, still stretched and glistening.

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. “So, dear?” The head of his cock nudged her slit, spreading precum in the mess they had left behind. “Can you handle me tonight? Or should I let them come back here and remind you how to take a Sinclair right?”