Chapter 95 MY STEPSON WANTS ME PART 18

Chapter 95 MY STEPSON WANTS ME PART 18
Marie’s POV
The water splashed around us, running down our bodies, making every movement slick and urgent. My lips parted, little moans spilling out as my chest pressed to his, our breaths mingling in the steamy air. My legs held him tight, clinging to him as if I could never let go, and every move of his hips made me feel like I was floating, like I was losing myself entirely.
I could feel my release building again, thick and hot, coiling low in my belly as he thrust harder. My body jerked with every movement, my hands pressing into his shoulders, my toes curling against him, my core tightening as pleasure rolled through me like waves crashing against rocks. I moaned loudly now, completely lost in the sensation, my body trembling and quivering around him.
The way he moved, the way he held me, the way he let me feel him fully—it made my whole body ache in the best possible way. My chest heaved, my hair plastered to my back, my legs shaking as I clung to him, desperate, pleading wordlessly for him not to stop. Every thrust, every rub of his skin against mine, every low groan he let out sent sparks through my body, making me feel alive in a way I hadn’t in a long time.
And then, with one harder, deeper push, the second orgasm hit me. I screamed, my body convulsing around him, every nerve on fire, every muscle trembling with pleasure. My thighs shook, my hips pressed back against him instinctively, and my hands gripped his shoulders so tightly it left marks. The world around us—the shower, the tiles, the sound of water hitting the floor—faded away completely, leaving only him, only us, and the hot, consuming fire that raged between my legs.
He held me tightly, wrapping me around him like I belonged there, like I was the only thing that mattered. His movements were steady, strong, and relentless, guiding me through the aftershocks of my pleasure. Every thrust hit me in just the right way, making my hips tilt, making my thighs shake, making me cling to him as if he was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
My breaths came in short, ragged gasps, mixed with soft, broken moans that I couldn’t control. My chest heaved, my heart pounding so fast I thought it might burst through my ribs. My body was still trembling, still tingling from the intensity of my release, my skin hot and slick under the shower water. Every nerve in me felt alive, burning, desperate for him, and yet completely consumed by the pleasure he was giving me.
He pushed deeper with each thrust, harder now, and the feeling of him moving inside me again sent shivers through my core. I clutched his shoulders tighter, my legs locked around his waist, my head falling back against his chest. I could feel his hot breath on my neck, the rough scrape of his jaw against my hair, the solid weight of him holding me close, and it all made my body melt against his.
Then it happened. I felt the tension coil in him, feel it tighten and pulse through every movement. With a low groan, he let go, exploding inside me. The warmth of him filling me, surging in waves, made me cry out, my body trembling violently with the intensity. My hips pressed back against him instinctively, trying to feel every bit of him, to hold onto the feeling that was almost too much to handle.
The force of his release was strong, deep, and unrelenting, making him shudder in my arms. My fingers dug into his shoulders, my nails biting into him slightly as my body rocked and shivered with the combined pleasure of us both coming together. I could feel every pulse of him inside me, thick and hot, and the sensation made my toes curl, my thighs shake, my belly tighten in a way that left me breathless.
I pressed myself against him, my face buried in the crook of his neck, feeling his arms wrap tighter, holding me, steadying me as I came down from the waves of pleasure. My chest rose and fell too fast, my legs quivering, my mind spinning, but I didn’t want him to let go.
He whispered something low and rough into my ear, his voice shaking slightly from his own release, and it made my body tingle all over. Even as he slowed, even as the storm of our bodies began to settle, I clung to him, my hands on his back, my legs around his waist, wanting to feel him close, wanting to hold onto this moment that left us both raw, trembling, and completely undone.
When he finally let me down slowly, my legs felt like jelly, trembling under the weight of everything that had just happened. My whole body was still buzzing, my skin tingling, my chest heaving, but beneath it all, a heavy wave of guilt started to seep in. My stomach twisted painfully, like a knot that couldn’t be undone. What had we just done? My step-son… my own step-son… this was wrong. This should never have happened. My hands flew to my face, pressing against my cheeks as if I could hide from the shame and the swirling emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.
I tried to pull back slightly, to put some space between us, but he noticed immediately. His eyes, still dark and burning with that same desire, softened when they met mine. He took a careful step closer, closing the distance I tried to create. He reached up slowly, cupping my face in his hands, thumbs brushing over my wet cheeks with a tenderness that made my body shiver—not with want this time, but with a strange, confusing warmth.
“You shouldn’t feel guilty,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady, warm against the shell of my ear. “My dad doesn’t deserve you. None of this changes who you are. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I blinked at him, searching his eyes, looking for any trace of mockery or manipulation, but there was none. Only care. Only something that made my chest ache in a way I couldn’t name. My lips parted slightly, but words stuck somewhere in my throat. All I could do was stare at him, my heart hammering, my body still trembling from what had just happened, the aftershocks of both pleasure and fear coursing through me.
He leaned in, resting his forehead gently against mine. I could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my hands, and for a moment, I felt almost dizzy from the closeness. “You’re not at fault,” he murmured again, softer this time, almost like he was trying to convince me as much as himself. “I wanted this too. I… I just wanted you to know how much I care about you.”
The water still ran over us, hot and heavy, dripping down our slick bodies, running down my back and between my thighs. I could feel the warmth of his chest against me, the firm weight of him holding me close. The water should have cooled us down, but it didn’t—it just made every touch, every brush of skin, feel more electric, more real.
I pressed my hands against his chest, feeling the muscles beneath my fingers, the rapid beat of his heart, and for a moment, I let myself just breathe. Let myself lean into him, feel the solid warmth of him holding me, without thinking about what was right or wrong. My mind was a jumble of shame, desire, and confusion, but his hands on my face, his voice in my ear, made it feel like—just for a few seconds—I could forget everything else.
He brushed a strand of wet hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear with a careful touch that made my chest tighten. “You don’t have to carry this guilt,” he whispered. “You don’t owe anyone an apology. Not me, not him… no one.”
I swallowed hard, trying to calm the racing of my heart, the ache in my belly, the heat that still lingered between my thighs. My hands lingered on his chest, my body still pressed against his, my hair plastered to my skin from the water. I wanted to pull away, to stop, to remember that this was wrong—but every part of me still ached for him, still remembered the way he had made me feel.
For a long moment, we just stood there. Water splashed over us, cascading down in streams, and I let myself breathe, let myself feel, let myself be held. His hands stayed on my face, his eyes locked onto mine, steady and calm, and I felt a strange, confusing comfort in it. The guilt didn’t go away, but somehow, being held like this made it just a little lighter, made it just a little easier to bear.