The silk shirt Elias made me wear barely reached mid-thigh. Every time I moved, cool air teased my bare pussy, reminding me I was completely exposed underneath. My nipples were hard, rubbing against the smooth fabric as I followed him downstairs for breakfast.

I felt dirty. Guilty. But so fucking turned on I could barely think straight.

Mom had only been gone three weeks, and here I was — letting my wealthy stepfather finger me and use my mouth like a cheap whore. The shame burned hot in my chest, but it only made my pussy wetter.

Elias sat at the head of the long dining table like a king....