4. Silas #3
I hold her, my arms around her waist, my face pressed to her belly, feeling her sob against my shoulder.
I tell her she's doing so well. I tell her she's my good girl, my perfect little thing, the only thing I've ever built that matters.
I tell her about Germany, about the years I spent destroying myself, about coming home to find her waiting, about the first moment I saw her and knew I would never let her go.
She falls asleep with the plug still inside her, her body stretched and claimed, my hand spread over her belly, my cock hard against the cleft of her ass, pulsing with every heartbeat that says her name.
I don't sleep. I lie awake counting her breaths, feeling her warmth seep into my skin, and I plan tomorrow's training, the next size, the next stretch, the next step toward the moment she finally opens enough to take me.
I imagine the heat of her wrapped around my length, the way she'll scream my name, the way I'll fill her so completely she'll never forget who she belongs to.
Tomorrow I'll push her further. Soon she'll take all of me.
But not yet, and the waiting makes it sweeter.
Morning comes gray and humid, the storm from two days ago a memory replaced by the heavier pressure of August heat.
I wake to her stirring against me, the plug still seated inside her, her body adjusting to it in sleep.
I reach down, check it with two fingers, feel how easily it moves now, how she's grown around it, how her body has learned to accept what I give her.
"Soon," I murmur against her ear, pressing my cock against the base of the plug through my briefs, feeling the pressure transmit into her, making her gasp awake. "You're almost ready. I can feel it. Your body wants me. It's learning."
She turns in my arms, her face soft with sleep, her eyes dark with need. "Please, Daddy. Today. I want to feel you. All of you."
I kiss her, deep and claiming, my tongue exploring her mouth while my hand explores her body, pinching her nipples, tracing the curve of her hip, pressing the plug deeper. She moans into my mouth, her body arching into my touch.
Then I hear footsteps on the stairs, light and quick and unmistakably Stella's.
"Selene?" Her voice carries down the hall, followed by a knock on Selene's door—right beside mine. "Sweetheart, have you seen my pearl earrings? The ones Richard gave me?"
Selene freezes against me, her eyes wide with panic. I move fast, lifting her from the bed, carrying her to the closet, shoving her inside among my shirts and work boots. She's naked, the plug still inside her, her hair wild, her face flushed.
"Not a sound," I whisper, pressing my finger to her lips. "Not a breath."
I close the closet door most of the way, leaving a crack of light, and turn just as my own door opens.
Stella stands in the hallway, coral robe cinched at her waist, rollers in her hair, her expression innocent and searching. "Silas? I've been knocking on Selene's door, but she's not answering. Have you seen her? I can't find my earrings anywhere."
I lean against the doorframe, my body blocking her view of the room, my briefs tented with an erection I don't bother to hide behind my hand. Let her think what she wants. Let her believe her stepson is a man who wakes hard, a man with needs, a normal man.
"She went for a walk," I say, my voice rough from sleep and desire. "Early. Said she couldn't sleep."
"Oh, the poor dear," Stella says, her eyes dropping briefly to my arousal, then away, blushing. "The heat, probably. I'll make her some iced tea when she returns."
"Good idea," I say, my hand on the door, ready to close it. "I'll tell her."
Stella pauses, her hand on the frame, her eyes scanning the room behind me. For a moment, I think she sees something. The rumpled sheets. The scent of Selene's arousal still thick in the air. The closet door, cracked open, behind which her daughter stands naked and plugged and trembling.
"Silas," Stella says, her voice soft, almost hesitant. "You and Selene. You're getting along well?"
"We're family," I say, the word tasting like iron and promise. "Of course we are."
Stella smiles, the expression relieved and warm and utterly blind. "I'm so glad," she says. "That's all I ever wanted. One happy family."
She turns and walks down the stairs, her slippers making soft sounds on the wood. I wait until her footsteps disappear, until I hear her moving around the kitchen, until I know she's not coming back.
Then I open the closet door.
Selene stands there, shaking, her hands pressed between her thighs, her eyes glassy with a mixture of terror and arousal that makes my cock pulse painfully against my briefs.
"She almost saw," Selene whispers.
"She didn't," I say, pulling her into my arms, feeling the plug shift inside her as I press her against me. "But she will. Eventually. They all will. And when they do, I'll be inside you, claiming you, making sure everyone knows whose you are."
I lift her, carry her to the bed, and settle between her thighs. The plug is still inside her, pressing against me through the thin fabric of my briefs, a barrier that feels like nothing, like tissue, like the last wall before I take what belongs to me.
"Soon," I promise again, my mouth against her throat, my hand finding her breast, her hip, the place where she opens for me. "Very soon. But first, your morning training. Count for me, little one. One. Two. Three."