Dirty Little Sinner: Taboo Chronicles.

“f*****g sluts! f**k’em both!” I cursed as I headed for my room. I had just gotten back from my boyfriend's house. I caught him in bed f*****g my best friend in the most erotically appealing position. Something he’d ‘never’ try with me. What did I do wrong anyway? I stormed into the living room and slammed the door right behind me. I couldn’t contain the anger and level of betrayal. He told me he loved me. He told me that he cared for me and that he would cherish me for as long as I live. But he still did it anyway. He cheated, and he didn’t seem the slightest bit remorseful about it. I stopped by the kitchen to get some water. I was fuming, I needed something to keep me grounded, something to stop the fire flaring under my skin from eating me up from the inside. I needed to breathe. “Oh for f**k's sake,” I cursed under my breath. It was my s*x-crazed Mom and her *new man*. Saying it aloud like that made me want to puke. My ‘stepdad’ so they’d call it. I mean he’s hot, assertive and mom’s always horny, but is that a good enough reason to constantly make out like I don’t exist ? It was their clothes. They were scattered everywhere—socks, jeans, a bra, T-shirts, loitering down the stairs, living room and everywhere. Like some s*x-crazed teenager. I was headed to my room and just as I was about to get on the stairs. “Oh yes, Dante—f**k” the plea tore out of my mother’s throat, ragged and needy. I hated that they were loud. I hate that he’s my stepdad. And I definitely hate them together too, but I don’t care. I just headed up to my room. “Jesus! Mom! Dante?” I screamed, throwing my hands up in the air in total disbelief. “At least have the decency to close the damn door, will you?” They always do this, forget to close the door. Forget that I’m also a person and I need some quiet too. My mom jerked immediately. “I’m sorry Emily,” she said. "We didn’t know you'd be back this early.” She looked flushed, almost embarrassed but her eyes and cheeks still burned with desire, brazen. With need. Dante slipped out of her ass as he headed for the draw. My jaw almost dropped at the length. Now I completely understand why my Mom was always screaming. He walked to get to the door and winked at me. My eyes dropped to his c**k before I could stop it and I felt my breath catch in my throat. For a moment, I didn’t know whether to curse at him or just— “Urghh...I hate him!” I muttered to myself as I headed for my own room. I mean he’s one fine ass man and definitely good in bed too, definitely better than my ex-boyfriend, but who cares? I definitely do not?— I paused midway, surprised by the thoughts that began to crawl into my head. “Oh, hell—Definit—absolutely not!” I went to my room and changed into something casual—tight fitted shorts and a tank top. I went downstairs an hour later. I went straight to the kitchen counter. My mom strode down the stairs, luggage in hand, all packed, ready to leave. Again! “Honey! I’m going to miss you,” My said, as she headed over the counter to place a kiss on my temple. Uhm—no she’s not. The only person she seems to miss and care about these days is Dante. “Wait, Mom, where are you going?” I asked. “Oh baby, I’m going on a short business trip. I’ll be back in three days.” “But mom, it’s December 22nd, and you know it’s that time of the year again.” I whined, “Do you really have to go?” “Three days? And I’ll be back before you know it, okay?” she said, her voice softer now. “Okay, Mom.” I said, my burrow furrowed into something that seemed like sadness. “But I can’t get the house ready alone. It’s a big house and decorating it in five days is—” “Which is exactly why you have Dante.” She cut me mid-sentence. I have Dante? No tf I don’t? But I didn’t say. Matter of fact, I didn’t want to have anything to do with him. I don’t like the way he looks at me. His corny, cocky ass attitude, the way he talks, walks. God!— The way he exists around me! I hate it all. And the worst part is, for a man I find this annoying, he looks way too handsome for me to dislike him this much. At least he makes my Mom happy, so I guess I’ll tolerate him. “Okay,” I nodded in agreement, not wanting to argue. The thought of being alone with Dante made my stomach twist with relief and disgust at the same time. At least, the house gets to not be, look and sound like a s*x dungeon for three days. But he’d be watching every single move I make and teasing me like he always does. Three solid days. Three days of peace and tranquility. So I guess I’m good, but— Why couldn’t he just go with her ? “Bye honey and be good to your stepdad, okay?” My mom said, snapping me out of my sea of thoughts. “Oh, and your stepdad's best friend is joining us this year too. Do well to make his room nicer and cleaner than it should be.” She cooed. “It’s been two years.” “Okay, Mom bye,” I said, trying to maintain the tiniest bit of composure I had left in me. Dante saw my mom off and came back to the kitchen. I stared at him, he had that mischievous smirk I most particularly hated, dancing along his lips again. I didn’t give him the satisfaction he wanted. I just rolled my eyes. “Emily,” he said. “Don’t do that.” I paused, took a long hard breath out and slowly looked up from my phone. “Don’t do what, Dante?” “Do not roll your eyes at me?” “And if I refuse?” he was looking at now, his expression dark and more serious than it need to be. “What are you gonna do about it?” He didn’t answer, he just leaned a little onto the counter. “You are one bratty girl.” “Wouldn’t be a first now would it, Dante?” I snapped. “Talking back now, are we?” he asked, his left brow furrowing into something that necessarily didn’t seem like chastisement. He was enjoying this. His eyes sparkled with amusement and I didn’t like that. He always teased me like that. “I’m not talking back, Dante,” I said. “Just stating the obvious.” I said, my attention completely glued to my phone. “Just call me Daddy, you’ll live,” he cooed. “It’s not that difficult, you know.” “You’re not! My father, Dante.” “Exactly, I’m your stepdad,” he added. “Which is why I prefer you call me daddy.” “I won’t,” I snapped. “Now please, leave me alone.” He didn’t tease me anymore. “Brat.” He spat, as he headed for the stairs. “d**k,” I murmured under my breath. He paused. “What did you just call me?” he spun around, eyes darker now, his expression locked with a seriousness that made my stomach flip in fear. And for a moment, I thought he would really yell at me or even hit me. He walked back to me, his feet slapping hard against the cold, white tile. In three long strides, he was now beside me. He spun the high bar kitchen chair with a force so hard, my phone almost slipped out of my hands. He was in front of me now, his eyes pierced directly into mine, all dark and intent. I swallowed. Hard. Feeling the movement of the liquid trail down my throat. “I asked you a question, Emily,” he said, his voice clipped. “What the hell did you just call me?” I parted my lips to speak, to defend myself, but words decided to abandon me. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. He was close—Too close. More close than he needed to be. More close than I was supposed to allow, to tolerate. But I didn’t push him away. Not yet. Instead, I found myself staring at him. And for a moment, his scent hit me. Hard and dangerous. I took my time, drinking him in. His facial features. His brows were thick, dark and properly carved. His eyes.... As much as I hated looking at them and the way they looked at me, they were beautiful, they always have been. Beautiful. Dark. Mischievous. For a moment, I began to falter in my hate for him. My eyes trailed down to his neckline and God!— They looked solid, toned. He worked out a lot, so there’s no surprise as to how muscular and defined every single muscle in his body was. But still, I couldn’t stop looking at him. My eyes trailed lower now, and I took a really hard view of his stomach. How many abs! My eyes moved from right to left, in an attempt to count them. And Lord!—This man was perfect. He had eight solid abs. My eyes went even lower, down. And then, I saw it. That God-crafted Adonis belt. It looked so properly carved, the way the muscles laid so effortlessly, slightly vertical at both sides of his oblique, at the lower base of his torso, dipping down to his— Fuck! What is wrong with me? He’s my stepdad! I cursed at myself before I lose myself staring too much at the visible bulge behind his zipper. “Emily,” he stepped forward, his hands gripping the open space of the chair just between my legs as he pulled the chair forward. Hard and fast. My stomach flipped and my heart slammed so hard behind my chest and I swear he could hear. “Look at me.” He was in between my legs now. Closer than before and instinct hit me again— the need to draw him closer and kiss him stupid. “You’re going to get punished for this,” he cooed. I wasn’t even listening, I couldn’t. I was looking at him, but I wasn’t paying attention. The only thing I could hear were my own dirty thoughts prickling in my ears. But I stop myself before the thoughts take root. Or at least, I try. “I’ll punish you myself,” he murmured, his breath warm against my face before pulling away and something raw sparked inside of me. Something I wasn't ready to admit yet.