Chapter 115 Stepfather, Please Ruin My Pussy (2)
Chapter 115 Stepfather, Please Ruin My Pussy (2)
~MIA~
The look Chase gave me was unfamiliar, something I had never seen on his face before, and I didn’t like it.
It wasn’t desire. It wasn’t even surprise.
It was something harder, something that made my stomach drop for a split second before the heat in my veins twisted it into shame.
His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as they swept over me, and suddenly I felt like a child caught with her hand in a cookie jar.
His hands reached for mine, where they rested against him, and with careful gentleness, he unwrapped my arms from around his body.
The softness of it stung more than if he had shoved me away.
His fingers lingered around my wrists as he guided my hands down to my sides, then he stepped back.
The space between us suddenly felt like a canyon.
“Answer me, Mia. Why are you putting this on?” he asked again.
I stared at him for a moment, my heart pounding so hard I was sure he could see it through my transparent bra.
A warmth pooled low in my belly, twisting into a prickly, aching heat that demanded attention and I had to fight every instinct not to lean into it.
Control yourself. Pull yourself together, I chanted in my head.
I lifted my chin. “Oh, come on, Chase Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of creep.” I held up the camera, letting it dangle from my fingers. “I’m wearing this outfit to take some pictures.”
Raising an eyebrow, he crossed his arms over his chest.
The muscles in his forearms flexed, and I hated how my eyes kept drifting to them, and how my body reacted even now when the moment felt so awkward.
“But do you really need to wear this?” he asked. “Your mom won’t be happy with it.”
I rolled my eyes so hard my head hurt. “Oh, please. What am I, a teenager?” I gestured to myself, the netting, the bare skin, the whole lewd display. “I’m fucking twenty-one, for crying out loud.”
His expression hardened, something flickering in his eyes that I couldn’t quite read. “Watch your language, girl.”
Of course… his daddy instincts had kicked in, and I fucking loved it.
His words sent a sharp, electric thrill through me, and my lips curved into a smile before I could stop it.
I tilted my head, letting the rabbit ears shift, and let my voice drop into a softer, sweeter tone, one I knew was meant to provoke. “Sorry, Daddy.”
He exhaled through his nose, a long, controlled breath, and his jaw worked like he was chewing on something bitter.
For a moment, he just looked at me, and I watched the tension coil in his shoulders, the way his hands curled into loose fists at his sides before relaxing again.
“It’s fine,” he said finally. “Let’s just get this over with. I need to take a nap afterward.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling too wide. “Okay.”
I held out the camera, and he took it, his fingers brushing against mine for the briefest second.
His touch was warm but fleeting, and I didn’t like it.
I wanted more.
I needed more.
He lifted the camera, turning it over in his hands, his brow furrowed as he tried to figure out the settings.
I watched him fumble with it for a moment, his thumb pressing buttons that did nothing, and I stepped closer, closing the distance he’d put between us.
“Here,” I said, reaching for the camera. “Let me.”
I moved into his space, my arm brushing against his as I reached for the device, and my breast pressed against his bicep through the thin netting.
I felt him go rigid beneath the contact, and then he shifted, stepping back so quickly he almost stumbled.
The space between us opened up again, and he held the camera out toward me like a barrier.
I took it, keeping my face neutral, and quickly adjusted the settings.
The familiar click of the dials gave me something to focus on other than the way my skin tingled where he had pulled away.
“Okay,” I said, looking up at him. “When you press this button, it focuses. You have to hold it steady, like this.” I demonstrated, my fingers moving over the camera. “Then you press here to take the shot. Got it?”
He nodded, taking the camera back from me carefully, his fingers avoiding mine this time. “Got it.”
I walked over to the chair by the window, where the light fell soft and golden.
I could feel his eyes on me as I moved, so I let my hips swing wider, let the net socks catch the light, letting the whole performance unfold exactly as I’d planned.
Settling into the chair, I arranged my limbs, let my legs fall open, and rested my hands on the armrests.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
I smirked. “Yeah.”
Now it was time for me to put my plan in motion.