The second the front door clicked shut, his presence shifted. The air grew thick, charged. I felt his eyes on me before I heard his footsteps.

“Alone at last, my little slut,” his voice, a low growl, slithered across the room. My body froze, a familiar cocktail of dread and unwanted heat pooling in my belly.

He was on me before I could pretend to busy myself. Large, calloused hands grabbed my hips, spinning me around to face the wall. His hard-on pressed against my ass through his jeans, a relentless promise. “Such a fucking tease in those tiny tops,” he snarled, his breath hot on my neck. One hand snaked up, roughly palming my breast over my shirt, squeezing the soft flesh. “These big, perfect tits. Made for me to use.”

His other hand yanked my leggings and panties down to my knees in one brutal motion. The cool air hit my wet cunt, betraying me. He grunted, approving. “Already dripping for your stepdaddy’s cock, you whore?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Spit hit his palm, a wet sound, before he slicked up his thick, veiny dick. He rubbed the swollen head through my soaked folds, teasing my clit with rough, circular strokes that made me gasp. “Gonna make me come all over this pretty pussy,” he promised, his voice ragged.

With a brutal thrust, he buried his entire length inside me. I cried out, the stretch burning and filling me completely. He set a punishing rhythm immediately, each slam jolting me against the wall. The