Ever since my stepdad stepped in to fill the void my biological father left, he was my rock and the only true warmth in our house.

But everything changed the day I came back from university. I was twenty now, no longer the innocent little girl he dropped off at the dorms a year ago. When I excitedly jumped into his arms for a welcome-home hug—just like I used to do—my grown body pressed flush against him.

That was when I felt it: his rigid, unmistakable arousal pressing against my core.

Every moral bone in my body screamed at me to step back and be the daughter I was supposed to be. But I didn't.

What started as lingering glances and a fake "panic attack" on his lap quickly spiraled into an intoxicating game. From riding him on the couch while my mother slept right beside us, to taking his massive length from behind in the kitchen while she baked bread just three feet away... I was crossing every line imaginable.

We were completely trapped in our beautiful, dirty little secret. And I had absolutely no plans to stop.