Sinfully Yours StepDaddy

Book Two: Sinfully Claimed by My Step Daddy

Chapter 1

The house was too quiet.

Sienna stood in the hallway outside his study, bare feet pressed against the cold marble floor, listening. Her mother’s laughter floated up from the living room downstairs, light and careful, the kind she used when she wanted something from a man. Roman’s voice answered her a moment later, low and steady, the kind of voice that never needed to rise to be obeyed.

Sienna’s fingers curled against the wall.

She should have gone straight to her room. She should have closed the door and pretended the last three weeks had never happened. Pretended she had not started noticing the way his shirts stretched across his shoulders when he reached for something. Pretended she had not caught him watching her once across the dinner table, his gaze lingering a second too long before he looked away like nothing had happened.

The study door was slightly open.

She told herself she only wanted a book. Something simple. Something safe. Her hand pushed the door wider before she could stop herself.

Roman sat behind the wide dark desk, sleeves rolled to his elbows, a pen paused above a stack of papers. The single lamp on the corner of the desk threw warm light across his face, catching the silver at his temples and the hard line of his jaw. He looked up the moment she stepped inside.

The air changed.

“Sienna.”

Her name in his mouth always sounded different. Heavier. Like it belonged to him already.

“I was looking for something to read,” she said, voice quieter than she meant it to be.

He set the pen down slowly. His eyes moved over her, taking in the thin sleep shirt that barely reached mid-thigh, the way her dark hair fell loose over one shoulder. Something dark flickered behind his expression before he locked it away again.

“At this hour?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

He leaned back in the chair. The leather creaked under his weight. “Come here.”

The words were soft. They were not a request.

Sienna’s pulse jumped hard in her throat. She crossed the room on unsteady legs and stopped in front of the desk. He watched her the entire way, unblinking, like he was waiting to see if she would turn and run.

“You’re trembling,” he said.

“I’m cold.”

His mouth curved, not quite a smile. “You’re not cold.”

Silence stretched between them, thick and dangerous. Somewhere downstairs her mother laughed again. The sound felt far away, almost unreal.

Roman rose from the chair. He was taller than she remembered when he stood this close. The scent of his cologne mixed with something warmer, something that made her stomach tighten in a way that felt wrong and addictive at the same time. He stopped just short of touching her.

“You keep looking at me like that,” he murmured, voice low enough that only she could hear. “Like you want something you shouldn’t.”

Sienna’s breath caught. She should have stepped back. She should have made an excuse and left. Instead she stayed exactly where she was, chin tilted up, heart slamming against her ribs so hard she was sure he could hear it.

His hand lifted. For a second she thought he would touch her face. Instead his fingers brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek, the contact so light it almost did not count. Almost.

The tips of his fingers lingered against her skin longer than they needed to.

“Be careful, princess,” he said, voice rough now. “You’re playing a game you don’t understand.”

Sienna’s lips parted. The words she wanted to say stuck in her throat. She could feel the heat of his body even through the small space still left between them. Her eyes dropped to his mouth before she could stop them.

Downstairs, footsteps moved toward the stairs.

Roman’s eyes flicked past her shoulder. His expression hardened in an instant. He stepped back so quickly the air between them turned cold again.

“Go to your room,” he said, quieter than before. “Now.”

Sienna turned and walked out, legs unsteady, the heat of his almost-touch still burning on her skin. She reached the hallway just as her mother’s voice called up from below.

“Roman? Are you still working?”

Sienna slipped into her bedroom and closed the door, back pressed hard against the wood, breathing like she had been running. She stayed there for a long time, listening to the low murmur of their voices downstairs, waiting for her heart to slow down.

It did not.

She pushed away from the door and walked to the bed, but sleep felt impossible. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the way he had looked at her. The way his voice had dropped when he called her princess. The way his fingers had brushed her cheek like he was testing something he already knew he should not touch.

Three weeks. That was all it had been since her mother married him and moved them into this house. Three weeks of careful distance and stolen glances and a tension that seemed to grow heavier every day. Sienna had told herself it would fade. That it was only the strangeness of living under the same roof as a man who looked at her the way Roman Hale did.

She had been wrong.

She sat on the edge of the bed and pressed her thighs together, trying to ignore the ache that had settled low in her stomach. The house settled around her with soft creaks and distant footsteps. Eventually she heard her mother come upstairs and close the master bedroom door.

Still Sienna waited.

Only when the house went completely still did she allow herself to move again. She slipped out of bed and crossed to the door, opening it just enough to look into the dark hallway. The study light was still on. A thin line of gold spilled under the door.

Her bare feet carried her forward before she could talk herself out of it.

She stopped outside the study again. This time she did not knock. She simply pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Roman was still at the desk, but the papers were forgotten. He had a glass of something dark in one hand. When he looked up and saw her, he did not look surprised. He looked like he had been waiting.

“I told you to go to your room,” he said quietly.

“I know.”

He set the glass down. “Then why are you here?”

Sienna closed the door behind her. The soft click sounded too loud in the quiet room. She leaned back against it, hands flat against the wood, and met his eyes.

“Because I couldn’t stay away.”

Something dangerous moved through his expression. He stood slowly, the chair rolling back behind him, and walked around the desk. Each step felt deliberate. When he stopped in front of her, there was almost no space left between them.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he said, voice low and rough.

“Maybe I do.”

His hand came up and braced against the door beside her head. The other settled lightly on her waist, the heat of his palm burning through the thin fabric of her sleep shirt. He leaned in until his mouth was close to her ear.

“Your mother is right upstairs,” he murmured. “One wrong sound and this ends before it starts.”

Sienna’s breath shuddered out of her. “Then don’t make me make a sound.”

For a long second neither of them moved. The only sound was their breathing and the distant tick of a clock somewhere in the house. Then Roman’s fingers tightened on her waist, pulling her closer until her body pressed against his.

“Last chance to walk away, princess.”

Sienna lifted her chin. Her voice came out barely above a whisper.

“I’m not walking away.”

His control snapped.

His mouth claimed hers in a hard, hungry kiss that stole the air from her lungs. One hand slid into her hair, gripping tight, while the other pressed her harder against the door. Sienna made a soft broken sound against his lips and he swallowed it, kissing her deeper, like he had been holding himself back for weeks and could not do it any longer.

When he finally pulled back, both of them were breathing hard. His forehead rested against hers. His eyes were dark and fierce.

“This is a mistake,” he said, even as his thumb stroked the side of her neck.

“I know.”

“We should stop.”

“I know.”

Neither of them moved.

Down the hall, a soft creak sounded. The master bedroom door opening.

Roman went completely still. His hand slid from her hair to cover her mouth, eyes locked on hers in warning. Footsteps moved slowly along the hallway. Sienna’s heart slammed so hard she was sure it could be heard through the door.

The footsteps paused right outside the study.

For three long seconds nothing happened.

Then the footsteps continued past and faded toward the stairs.

Only when the house fell silent again did Roman slowly lower his hand from her mouth. He did not step back. His body still pinned her to the door, hard and warm and impossible to ignore.

“You need to go back to your room,” he said, voice rough. “Before this goes any further.”

Sienna looked up at him, lips still tingling, body still pressed against his.

“And if I don’t want to?”

Something raw and hungry flashed in his eyes.

He leaned in one more time, mouth brushing the corner of hers, and spoke the words that made her stomach drop.

“Then lock your door tonight, princess. Because if you leave it open, I will come in. And I will not be gentle.”