Stepbrother Claims It All (Leo's Harem)

Chapter Thirteen

Avery's POV

The morning sun painted the garage in long, dusty stripes. I stood just inside the door, a covered plate of warm scrambled eggs and toast in my hands. My heart was doing a nervous tap-dance against my ribs. I had rehearsed the words a hundred times in my head on my way over to the garage.

Leo, I need to tell you something. Something big. All of this... the house, the cars, the money... it is not my mother's. It was never hers. It is yours.

Shit! How do I even say that.

My thoughts were all over the place as I stood, staring at Leo. He was at the workbench, his back to me, wiping his hands on a rag.

I cannot say how long I had been standing here, but it had been more than five minutes, and he had not said a word or acknowledged my presence.

Finally, he turned, and those intense brown eyes landed on me, then on the plate. His expression was unreadable.

"You brought food," he said, his voice a low rumble in the quiet space.

A little burst of warmth bloomed in my chest. He is pleased.

I stepped forward, holding the plate out like an offering. "I kept it warm for you. I know you did not get to eat earlier."

He took the plate, his fingers brushing mine. A simple touch that sent a jolt straight through me. Christ.

He set the tray on the bench and lifted the cover. The savory smell of eggs and butter filled the air. He picked up a fork.

"This is very considerate of you, pet," he said, taking a bite. He ate slowly, watching me. "Very considerate."

Yes!!

I am very considerate.

I could not stop myself from smiling broadly. I could picture it so clearly already. He gets to hear the truth, he would be so shocked, and he would be forever grateful. He would look at me differently. He would see me as his ally, his savior. Maybe more. The fantasy was so vivid it made me dizzy.

"I am bored." Leo's voice cut through my fantasy thoughts. He gestured with his fork toward a bike. "Entertain me."

I froze, my smile disappearing completely. "Entertain you? How?"

He took another bite, chewing slowly. His gaze drifted past me, landing on the black sports bike parked on its kickstand. "Give it a lap dance."

I blinked. I laughed out nervously. "The... the bike?"

"You heard me." He ate another forkful of eggs, his eyes never leaving me. "I am eating, and I want a show."

He is really serious. Oh my god. Should I really do it. I felt so confused, the feeling twisting into a cold knot in my stomach. This was not part of my plan, neither did I imagine things happening this way. "Leo, I... I do not know... if I should."

He said nothing, just stared in a way that got my insides lowering in obedience.

Do I really want to disobey my master? I mean, it is just a lap dance. What could possibly go wrong?

I moved toward the bike slowly, my feet dragging just a bit.

"Take off your clothes." His voice brought me to a halt before I could get any closer to the bike.

Air left my lungs.

"What?" I turned around, eyes wide in disbelief.

He set his fork down with a soft clink. He stared at me calmly, with a cool, commanding intensity. "I want you naked on the bike."

Na-naked? He wants me naked on the bike. B... but...

"What if someone sees. Anyone could walk in." I glanced at the garage door, my cheeks burning. The damn door was halfway open. Would he at least lock it?

He shrugged. "Then you better get dancing, or..." His lip curled into a grin, eyes glinting with mischief. "...they find out what a slut you are."

He shifted forward in the chair. "Now. The clothes."

Every last drop of hesitation in me vanished, his words awakening a need deep inside me. My fingers, trembling, went to the hem of my dress. I pulled it up and over my head, letting it fall to the oil-stained concrete. The cool air kissed my bare skin, raising goosebumps. Next, I hooked my thumbs into the sides of my white cotton panties and pushed them down my thighs, stepping out of them. I stood before him, completely bare, my arms instinctively crossing over my chest.

"Arms down," he commanded, picking up his fork again. "Show me what you have got for a machine."

A wave of humiliation crashed over me, but it was mixed with a terrifying, rising heat. I forced my arms to my sides. I gulped, then walked, feeling every pebble and bit of grit under my bare feet, toward the bike. Its black paint was glossy, cold. I swung one leg over the leather seat, the material smooth and unyielding against my inner thighs. I settled onto it, the narrow seat pressing uncomfortably into my bottom.

I looked at Leo. He was watching, eating, his expression impassive.

I began to move. Slowly at first, my movements a bit stiff and awkward. The seat rubbed against my sensitive püssy lips. It... it felt good.

But I wanted it to be good for him too. I wanted to badly entertain him.

I closed my eyes, trying to pretend it was him. I imagined his hard thighs under me, the rough fabric of his jeans, and my movements became less stiff. If it is a show he wants, then I will give him a show.

Releasing a ragged breath, I leaned backward, bracing one hand on the bike's fuel tank, arching my spine. My free hand came up to cup my own brēast, my nipplēs pointy peaks against my palm. I pinched it, and Christ... "Ohh..."

My hips ground slow against the cold leather, causing a beautiful friction against my wet pūssy, the pressure heavy on my outer lips, spreading them, dragging the sensitive clít against the seam of the seat. Pleasure started to burn away the shame I once felt. My dignity was stripped away and in its wake was a deep yearning to entertain my master.

I opened my eyes, feeling a bit curious.

He was watching, but his chewing had slowed.

His gaze was not just something I could see, but I could feel it heavily on my skin, tracing the curve of my waist. I could not tell if he was impressed, and that drove me forward.

This time, I did not just grind my püssy to the seat, I humped, bouncing fast so that my brēasts jiggled with the movement. My breath hitched.

"Yes, yes! Umhm... Christ!"

I am fūcking a bike, for my master's entertainment, and damn it does feel good. I could not decide why. Was I truly hōrny because of what I was doing, or is it my master's intense gaze.

My other hand dropped from the tank and slid between my own legs. I was drenched.

My püssy juice was dripping out of my c**t, soaking the bike's leathered seat. I thrüst a finger in, the need to touch and finger fück myself rising up fast.

My walls clenched around the intrusion like they were starving. I moaned low, hips rocking forward against the bike seat, humping and dragging my clít against the warm slippery leather.

One finger became two, pumping slow at first, then faster, chasing that sharp edge of pleasure that made my toes curl.

I closed my eyes tighter, head tipping back, lost in it, in the filthy rhythm, in the thought of Leo watching every desperate thrust.

Then—

A sharp, stinging slap landed across my left breast.

My eyes flew open. "Ah–!"

Leo was standing right in front of me, and... and he looked vexed.

I froze, fingers still buried inside me, thighs trembling around the bike frame. He did not speak at first. He just stared down at me, letting the silence stretch until fear crawled up my spine, heart beating wild in fear.

"Remind me, pet." He said low. "When did I give you the permission to touch yourself."

Shit!

I forgot about that.

I yanked my hand free so fast it made a wet sound. My cheeks burned hotter than the slap. I felt ashamed.

"Master, I—I am sorry—"

"Down."

I slid off the bike without hesitation, knees hitting the floor hard enough to bruise. My hands flew behind my back, head bowed low.

He stepped closer until the toes of his boots touched my knees. "Look at me."

I lifted my gaze slowly, my eyes glossy with tears.

"What are you?"

I swallowed. "Your slút, Master."

"Louder."

"Your slūt, Master." My throat felt tight. "Your... your filthy little pet."

"And what do disobedient slūts deserve?"

"They… they get punished." The words made my nipplẽs tighten even more. Somehow... I anticipated the punishment. I wanted it.

He reached down, grabbed my chin roughly, forcing my head back farther.

"You do not touch what belongs to me unless I say so. This cūnt—" his other hand dropped between my legs, cupping me possessively, fingers pressing against my soaked folds. Fück... "—is mine. These tìts—" he slapped the other breast lightly, it stung. "—are mine."

I whimpered, my thighs shaking.

"I am sorry, Master. Please… please forgive me."

He studied me for a long moment, thumb brushing over my bottom lip. "Beg properly."

I dropped lower, my forehead almost touching the floor, ass up in the air. "Please forgive me, Master. I was bad. I touched what is not mine. I will be good. I will be your perfect slüt."

His fingers slid into my hair, gripping tight. "Up."

I rose to my feet, my legs shaky, eyes locked on his.

He leaned down until our faces were inches apart.

"Next time you forget who owns you…" His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "I will not stop at slaps. I will tie you to this bike and leave you dripping and aching for hours. Understand?"

Why?

Why in the world did I want that?

I am officially crazy.

I nodded, making sure not to smile, but look as sorry as possible. "Yes, Master. I understand."

"Good." He straightened, eyes raking over me once more. "Now get back on the bike. Hands behind your back. No touching. You are going to f**k the bike passionately."

"Yes, Master."

I climbed back on the bike, but before I could start moving, a voice I recognized too well sliced through the garage air.

"What the ück is going on?"

I turned to the door, and just like I thought, Sarah was standing in the garage doorway. Her eyes were huge, darting from my naked, sweat-sheened body draped over the bike, to Leo.

Many times we have come close to getting found out, and those times we were able to avoid exposure. But how do we explain this?

"Sarah, I—" I began, my voice a pathetic whisper, as I tried to get down from the bike, but on meeting Leo's gaze, I stayed put.

"I knew something was up with you!" she shrieked, her face flushing with anger and disbelief. "The weird looks, the jumping at nothing! But this? You are f*****g a bike in front of him?"

She glared at Leo. "For him? Have you gone mad! Did you lose a few screws in your damn mind?"

"Keep your voice down, please." I begged, heart thumping wild.

But the most shocking thing was that Leo was not even in the least shaken up. He set his plate down on the workbench, slowly, like as if we did not just get caught.

Then, he stood to his full height, turning to face her. "Do not call her names," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. "Only I can."

Sarah let out a harsh, incredulous laugh. "And if I do? What are you going to do about it?"

Leo’s lip curled into a smirk. "You do not want to know."

"You should be begging me. You should be going down on your miserable knees and beg!" Sarah held his gaze so fiercely.

Leo took a step closer to her, his aura calm. "And if I do not?"

"I will call the police! You will not just get thrown out of this house, you will be arrested. You should be very afraid right now, Leo."

Leo moved. He covered up the remaining space between them fast, and next... his hand was shooting out and then it closed around her throat.

"What the– how dare you?" Sarah managed to say, her face red.

He leaned in, his face just inches from hers. "The only person who should be afraid right now," he said, each word dripping with cold fury, "is you."