I'm In Love With My Trillionaire Step-Father

✦ ❦ ✦ Chloe Pov ✦ ❦ ✦ If someone had told me that one day I'd fall for my stepfather, I would've laughed right in their face. Actually, no. I would've called them crazy because seriously, who even thinks about something like that? It's disgusting, wrong and forbidden as hell. And yet, life has this weird habit of throwing you straight into the one situation you swore you would never be caught dead in. I honestly didn't know my mother wasn’t around— I only knew later that my mom had gone out with her friends. I thought Martin had already left for work, so I padded straight into their bedroom, still fuming. I dropped onto the edge of the bed and started yapping loudly about how pissed I was at my mother, how she got married to Martins my stepfather without even discussing it with me first, my words tumbling out in an angry rush even though the glass shower walls would drown me out. I didn’t care. I just needed to vent. The water shut off. The door slid open. Martin stepped out completely naked, no towel, water still glistening on his broad shoulders and carved chest. My eyes locked onto the heavy, thick length of his c**k hanging between his strong thighs—long, veined. I screamed, bolting from their room straight to my room, slamming the door behind me. But I couldn’t get it out of my mind. That bare, powerful body. That long c**k. My p***y was already wet before I even realized what I was doing. I shoved my hand down my shorts, fingers sliding through my slick folds, circling my swollen c**t as I bit my lip hard to keep myself from moaning too loudly. I pumped two fingers into my aching p***y, imagining it was him, stretching me open. uhmm..God, I was pathetic. But my fingers didn't stop. I was so close, so f*****g close, my breathing was getting heavier, when I heard the knock on the bathroom door. My entire body went rigid. "Chloe?" His voice was low, dangerous, but sexy to my ears. "Open the door." Oh God. No. No no no. Heart pounding, "One second," I called out, my voice shaking in a way that definitely gave me away. I pulled my hand free, put on my clothes straight, and opened it. Martin stood there in nothing but tight black boxer shorts that did nothing to hide the thick bulge of his c**k, bare chest still damp. The second I saw him, raw need took over. I grabbed his arm, dragged him inside, and crushed my mouth to his. He hesitated, stiffening against me. “Chloe… we can’t—” “We both want this,” I breathed against his lips, grinding my body into him. “Mom’s gone. This is our chance. I need you.” That broke him I guess. Martin pushed me back onto the bed, pulling my shorts and panties down in one rough motion. He dropped to his knees, spread my thighs wide, and buried his face in my gid damn dripping p***y. His tongue was merciless—long, flat strokes licking up my slit before sucking hard on my c**t. I screamed, hips bucking wildly as he ate me like a starving man. He slid two thick fingers deep into my tight p***y, curling them against my g-spot while his tongue flicked rapidly over my swollen c**t while I squirt. The wet, filthy sounds of him eating my p***y filled the room—slurping, sucking, groaning into my cunt as he finger-f****d me harder. “f**k—Martin—oh jesus, this feels so good on my p***y,” I gasped, grinding against his face, my juices coating his mouth and chin. He didn’t stop. He plunged his long, thick c**k into me in one deep thrust, stretching my p***y walls around his girth. I cried out at the fullness, my nails digging into his broad shoulders as he started pounding me—hard, rhythmic strokes that hit the deepest parts of me. His hips slammed against mine, balls slapping wetly against my ass while his fingers kept rubbing my c**t in tight, filthy circles. Every thrust made my t**s bounce, my p***y clenching greedily around his c**k as pleasure ripped through me. He f****d me like he owned me, deep and relentless, until I was screaming his name, my p***y gushing around his thick shaft. It all started on my twentieth birthday. "Happy birthday, Chloe, my darling!" my mom said, walking into the kitchen with a cake. "I've got a little surprise for you." I nearly dropped my coffee. A surprise? From my mom? That alone was shocking. Ever since my younger brother, Zeeshan, passed away two years ago after suffering a seizure, birthdays had become... complicated. No celebrations, cakes, no presents and not even a simple happy birthday. And honestly? I never blamed her. Losing a child changes people but still, hearing those words made me smile. "Okay, now you've got my attention," I said. "What's the surprise?" My mom grinned. "We got a new home." I blinked. "What?" "A new home," she repeated. "Fully furnished. Everything we need." "Mom, are you serious?" "Dead serious." I jumped up and wrapped my arms around her. "Oh my God, that's amazing!" For the first time in forever, she actually looked really happy. The rest of the morning flew by. We cut the cake, packed boxes, loaded the car and hit the road. And every time I asked where exactly we were moving, Mom would just smile and tell me to be patient. Which was honestly getting on my nerves. The entire drive, I stared out the window. New York was doing what New York does best filled with street performers. Skaters. Artists trying to get noticed and people rushing around like they were all late for something. The city never slowed down. My eyes followed the passing buildings until my thoughts drifted somewhere else. To my dad. its always been that way though. They ways did. My dad, Zach, was one of the kindest people I knew. Quiet, patient and a reserved person, completely the opposite of my mother Angela. Too dramatic, which was exactly why their divorce never made sense to me. Then again... Maybe it did. I still remembered the day everything fell apart. I had come home from school and heard screaming from downstairs. Not just arguing but screaming and it's the kind that makes your stomach drop. I froze outside the living room. My dad was furious. Something I'd never seen before. "Oh, so you slept with someone else and somehow that's my fault?" he shouted. I remember standing there completely stunned. "Angela, cheating isn't justified because I wasn't home enough. And what the hell? You didn't just sleep with him—you brought him into my house. Into our bed." His voice cracked. "You think if I stayed home twenty-four hours a day, things would've been different? No. You would've done it anyway." My mom crossed her arms. "Spare me the bullshit, Zach." I could still hear her voice clearly. Cold. Brutal "We both know you never satisfied me. You never made me feel wanted. I did what I had to do." I pushed the door open before things got worse. Both of them immediately stopped. The silence was almost worse than the screaming itself and that night changed everything. Mom packed her things then she packed mine. Dad tried to stop her. "Chloe isn't going anywhere." "Yes, she is." "No." "She's coming with me." I remember feeling like a piece of luggage they were arguing over. But eventually, Dad gave in. And it's not because he agreed but because he was exhausted. And just like that, my old life ended. "Chloe?" My mom's voice pulled me back to the present. I turned toward her. "You okay?" I smiled. "Yeah. Just nervous about the new place." Her expression softened. "I know, baby. But trust me. You're gonna love it." I hoped she was right. About thirty minutes later, we finally arrived. The neighborhood alone nearly gave me a heart attack. Massive houses with luxury cars. Perfect lawns, money everywhere. The kind of place where rich people's only problem is probably about having only one swimming pool. I frowned. How exactly could Mom afford this? Before I could ask, she parked the car. We grabbed our bags and walked toward one of the largest houses on the street. The front door opened before we could knock and then I saw him. Tall with broad shoulders. A few freckles scattered across his face. Dark hair with a confident posture. Handsome in some effortless kind of way. The kind that made you look twice without meaning to. For a second, I assumed he was the realtor, or maybe the owner. "Come in," he said. His voice was deep and smooth but something about it immediately made me nervous. I stepped inside and nearly lost my mind. The house was insane. Crystal chandeliers. neatly wooden tiled floors. Furniture that probably cost a fortune. Everything looked expensive. The place literally smelled like money. I was too busy staring at everything to notice my mom moving closer to him. Then she smiled. "Chloe," she said, "there's someone I want you to meet." The man stepped beside her and then my world implode immediately. My mom slipped her hand into his. "This is Martin." I stared. Confused and waiting, then she dropped the bomb. "My husband." Silence. I looked at her, then at him. He looks younger than my mom. Then back at her again. "My... what?" She smiled wider. "Your stepfather." The air left my lungs. A husband? She got married?Without telling me or even introducing him first? And this was the birthday surprise? "For real, Mom?" My voice came out sharper than I intended. "This is the surprise?" thanks my love Neither of them answered. They just stood there smiling. And as I looked at the man who had suddenly become my stepfather, I had no idea that walking into this house would change everything. Maybe it would become the worst chapter of my life. Or maybe... The most adventurous one.