My Young StepMom (English)

Chapter - 7

The sunlight streaming through the large windows of the dining hall failed to provide any warmth to me. Instead, I seemed to feel even colder as I sat across the long table. At the end of the table sat Freddie in his wheelchair. His skin was as pale as paper, and every breath was accompanied by a faint wheeze a reminder that death was just standing behind him, waiting for the right timing. Despite his weakness, the old man's eyes were still full of love every time he looked at me.

"Eat plenty, Solana... it seems you didn't get any sleep," Freddie said softly.

Before I could answer, I heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. My heart suddenly raced. The anxiety I felt last night was here again.

"Good morning, Dad," Henry greeted him. His voice was full and baritone, a far cry from his father’s weakening voice.

Henry sat across from me, making his handsomeness even more visible, but to me, it was as if I were looking at the devil. Henry’s eyes landed on me—a quick but scrutinizing look that felt as though he were stripping me naked in front of my husband.

Ana arrived carrying a pitcher of fresh juice. I noticed a slight redness on the maid's neck, marks left by Henry last night. I looked away, my fingers tightly gripping the table napkin under the table. I remembered my own fingers last night, the stickiness, and the shameful moan I let out while staring at Henry and Ana.

"How was your sleep in the servants' quarters, Solana? Wasn't it too noisy? Sometimes, the wood in this mansion... groans because of how old it is."

I choked slightly. I quickly drank some water, forcing myself to calm down.

"It was fine, Henry. It’s quieter there, but later I will be sleeping in my and my husband’s room," I answered.

A mocking smirk formed on Henry’s lips.

"Really? I thought you were disturbed. It’s hard to stop things that want to break free, right?"

Freddie looked at the two of us, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, Dad," Henry replied, glancing at me with a teasing look. "I’m just telling Mommy that it looks like she discovered many things last night that were new to her sight."

"I’m sorry, wife. Henry said he would sleep in my room last night because he wanted to make up for lost time," my husband said.

"It’s okay, my hubby," I replied to my husband with a smile. Then I looked at Henry, whose jaw was clenched; I figured he was thinking again about how I manipulated his father with my sweetness.

When the meal was finished, Ana assisted Freddie back to his room for his medicine, leaving Henry and me alone in the vast dining area.

I stood up to leave, but before I could take a step, Henry quickly blocked my path. He pinned me against the wall, his arms trapping me on both sides.

"What do you want?" I hissed in a whisper, struggling to hide the trembling in my voice.

"You still have the nerve to stare at me after what you did last night," Henry whispered close to my ear. His hot breath brought back the electricity I felt in my core. "Did you enjoy what you watched? Or did you enjoy what you were doing to yourself more while I was watching you?"

I turned pale. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Don't lie to me, gold digger." Henry roughly grabbed my chin and forced me to look up. "I saw you. I saw how you were playing with yourself while imagining that I was the one doing that to you. You’re filthy, Solana. You pretend to be a saint in front of Dad, but deep down, you’re worse than those women for hire."

In my extreme shame and anger, I quickly slapped Henry. But the young man grew angrier and pressed me harder against the wall so that no matter how I moved, I couldn't escape.

Without warning, Henry lunged at my neck like a vampire.

"Do you want to try again? Do you want to feel a real pounding instead of just your fingers making you itch?"

"Let me go, Henry... please," I sobbed.

"No!"

"What do you want? Let me go!" I hissed in a whisper. I tried to hide the trembling of my voice, but my rapid breathing betrayed me.

Henry didn't answer. Instead, he buried his face in the curve of my neck. Henry’s hot breath hit my skin, causing goosebumps I couldn't stop. I felt the slow press of Henry’s lips against my neck. It wasn't a violent kiss, but a seductive stroke followed by a wet and warm tongue that seemed to savor every fiber of my being.

"Stop it, Henry... or else... I’ll scream," I threatened, though my voice was like a mere sob. My hands resting on Henry's chest, which were intended to push him away, were slowly losing their strength. The firmness of Henry's chest and the scent of his perfume were like a ribbon gradually binding my sanity.

A cynical grin drew across Henry's lips while he remained at my neck.

"Scream, Solana. Scream. Call Dad. Let’s see if that old man in the wheelchair can save his holy wife from my hands."

With every word Henry spoke, his hands became more daring. One of his palms held my waist tightly, while the other began to travel—from my shoulder, slowly down the curve of my back, until I felt his touch on my hip.

"Don't... don't do this," I pleaded, but my body was betraying me. With every touch of Henry's skin, it felt as if electricity was flowing through my veins—a confusing sensation that mixed with my fear. Why, despite this man's evil personality, was my body seemingly drifting along? Why did I seem to like the danger Henry brought?

"You're brave enough to refuse, but your body is lying," Henry whispered, his voice deep and full of mockery. Henry licked my ear as his hand held my breast and gently massaged it. From my ear, Henry immediately leaned down, simultaneously lifting my blouse and lowering my bra, and without hesitation, he clamped his mouth onto my breast. I gripped his polo shirt. I felt the weakness in my knees from the intense tickling and pleasure brought by Henry’s sinful tongue. If I weren't leaning against the wall and held by Henry, I might have collapsed to the floor.

In a daring move, Henry slid his hand under my pajamas. His fingers crawled over the smooth skin of my thigh, upward, toward my womanhood.

I flinched. My eyes squeezed shut, my head leaning back against the wall as my breathing became fast and shallow. Henry closed his eyes tightly and sucked even harder on my breast like a starving infant, making it impossible for me to keep from letting out a stifled groan.

"Henry... p-please..."

A low curse escaped Henry’s lips when his fingers felt the wetness and slickness between my thighs. His eyes darkened with a mix of triumph and intense desire.

Henry’s hand did not stop. His fingers made provocative movements that sent new jolts of electricity through my body. Every stroke felt like a promise of pleasure that had long been denied to her.

Suddenly, Henry fingered me, causing me to cry out in pain.

“Why?” Henry asked wonderingly. But I couldn't bring herself to say that I was still a virgin.

“It hurts...” I confessed.

Henry didn't speak; instead, he simply toyed with my c**t, and I gasped at the pleasure. Henry, meanwhile, returned to nursing at my breast while his hand continued to bring bliss to my womanhood.

When Henry felt that I was nearing my peak and was already clinging to him tightly—a sign that I was about to come.

“Ohhh, Henry…” I moaned in extreme ecstasy. But instead of continuing, Henry suddenly stopped and let go of me.

My eyes snapped open, and I immediately pulled my clothes down, gasping for breath. Henry smirked at me as he licked his own fingers, which had just come from inside my panties.

“F*ck yourself, woman!”