2. Roman
ROMAN
Dad stands in the shadows near the far wall, arms folded across his massive chest, steel-gray eyes tracking every inch of Rue's naked, restrained body before settling on me with laser focus.
The low amber lighting catches the silver threading through his dark beard, the brutal angles of his jaw locked tight.
My cock throbs against Rue's slick entrance, and heat crawls up my neck when I realize exactly what position he's caught us in—her wrists and ankles bound by leather-wrapped chains, her body suspended just enough that she's balanced on the balls of her feet, and me pressed flush against her with my shaft notched right where I'm about to claim her.
Fuck.
"What are you doing with your stepsister, Roman?"
His voice cuts through the charged air, cold and controlled, but I catch the edge underneath. Catch the way his gaze drops to where Rue's breasts still glisten with my saliva, the way his pupils dilate when she shifts and whimpers.
He's attracted to her too.
I can't blame him.
Rue's the kind of beautiful that hits you straight in the chest—wide amber eyes framed by thick dark lashes, full lips parted and swollen from my mouth, and that wild mass of espresso curls spilling everywhere like silk.
Her skin glows honey-gold in the low light, smooth and perfect, not a single mark except the flush spreading down her throat to those incredible breasts.
Soft curves, tiny waist, the kind of body that makes a man want to wrap himself around her and never let go.
She's stunning. Breathtaking in a way that doesn't quit even when you're staring straight at her.
And Dad's still a man, even if he is my stepfather.
He's always looked young for forty-eight—the kind of aging that makes women do double takes instead of looking away.
That salt-and-pepper beard frames a face that's all hard angles and brutal masculinity, and his steel-gray eyes have this intensity that pins people in place.
He's built like he could tear through walls, shoulders broad enough to block out light, and the ink covering his chest and arms just adds to the raw, dangerous edge he's always carried.
Silver fox doesn't even cover it. He's the kind of man who walks into a room and every eye tracks him whether they want to or not.
"I asked you a question."
The realization slams into me at the same moment adrenaline dumps into my bloodstream. I jerk back, my cock sliding away from her heat, and step to the side so fast I nearly trip over the drain grate. My hands shake as I drag them through my hair, chest heaving.
"I—" My throat closes. "Dad, I didn't?—"
"You know?"
Rue's voice cracks, high and disbelieving. She twists against the restraints, curls wild around her flushed face, amber eyes locked on dad. "You know who I am?"
Dad moves forward with that predator's grace, every step measured. He stops just outside the circle of chains, towering over her, and the look he levels at her makes my stomach drop.
"Your parents are idiots if they thought I wouldn't do a deep background check on everyone I let inside my home."
"Oh god." Rue's knees buckle, chains rattling as they catch her weight. "Oh god, I'm so sorry, I?—"
"Sorry for what?" Dad's tone could freeze blood. "For attempting access to our homee? For lying? For letting my son put his mouth on you?"
"For all of it!" Tears streak down her cheeks, and something in my chest twists violently. "I didn't have a choice, okay? Kurt is dying. He needs surgery and my parents won't—they're spending everything on themselves and he's twelve and he's going to die if I don't?—"
Her voice breaks on a sob.
The silence that follows is suffocating.
Dad's expression doesn't change, but something shifts in the air—a fractional loosening of the tension in his shoulders, a slight tilt of his head as he studies her with those calculating gray eyes.
"Your brother."
"Yes." Rue lifts her chin even as tears drip off her jaw.
"Kurt. He has kidney issues. He needs continuous dialysis treatment.
I tried everything else first, I swear, but the medical bills are crushing and my parents are useless, paying his medical bills only when I—I work for them, and I ran out of options. "
Dad's eyes stay locked on Rue, but I feel his attention shift toward me for half a second—cataloging my position, my wet mouth, my still-hard cock straining against my zipper.
"We know about Kurt." Dad's voice drops into that deadly calm register that makes experienced men flinch.
"We also know you helped your parents run their little scam business for the past two years.
Falsified documents. Forged signatures. Convinced elderly clients to sign over properties they didn't understand. "
"I didn't want to!" Rue jerks against the chains, desperation cracking through every word. "They made me—they said if I didn't help, they'd stop paying for Kurt's treatments entirely. What was I supposed to do? Let my brother die?"
"You could have come to us."
"I didn't know you! I thought—" Her breath hitches. "I thought you were just a rich asshole my mom married who wouldn't care about some kid dying in Portland."
Dad moves closer, reaching out to grip her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to meet his gaze. The gesture is firm, almost tender, and my pulse kicks up another notch.
"You thought wrong." He releases her and steps back, arms folding across his chest again. "But that doesn't change the fact that you committed multiple felonies. We can't just let you walk away from this, little girl."
The endearment sounds wrong and right all at once, and Rue's eyes widen.
"Please." Her voice cracks. "Please, I'll do anything. Just don't—don't send me to prison. Kurt needs me. He doesn't have anyone else."
Dad's gaze cuts to me, one eyebrow lifting fractionally, and something passes between us that I don't fully understand until he speaks.
"It seems Roman has already come up with a brilliant plan to punish you."
My stomach drops. "What?"
"This." Dad gestures at Rue's restrained, naked body, at the wet trails on her breasts, at the obvious evidence of what I was about to do. "Originally we were going to turn you over to the authorities after making sure your brother was taken care of. Let the system handle your punishment."
Horror floods through me. "Dad, I wasn't?—"
"But this is perfect." Dad's lips curve into something that isn't quite a smile. "You want to protect your brother? You're willing to do anything? Then you'll submit to us. Completely. You'll live here, under our control, and accept whatever punishment we decide is appropriate."
"Dad, wait—" I grab his arm, pulse hammering in my throat. "We need to talk. Now."
He doesn't resist when I pull him toward the dungeon door, just shoots Rue one last assessing look before following me up the stone steps into the hallway. The door clicks shut behind us, muffling her sharp intake of breath.
I drag both hands through my hair, pacing three steps before spinning back to face him. "Are you serious right now? Both of us? With her?"
"Yes."
The single word lands like a hammer blow. Dad leans against the wall, arms crossed, completely calm while my world tilts sideways.
"That's insane." My voice comes out rougher than I intend. "She's our—technically she's our family. Your stepdaughter. My stepsister."
"Technically." Dad's mouth quirks. "But there's no blood between any of us. I'm your stepfather. She's my stepdaughter through a marriage with her scamming mother. You and Rue share no DNA whatsoever."
"That's not the point?—"
"Then what is?" He pushes off the wall, closing the distance between us with two strides. "You want her. I saw that clearly enough. And unless I'm very wrong, you were about to take her in my dungeon without asking permission first."
Heat crawls up my neck. "I lost control. She was lactating and desperate and I?—"
"You wanted to help her." Dad's steel-gray eyes pin me in place. "You wanted to claim her and protect her and make her yours. Don't lie to me, son."
The truth lodges in my throat. I swallow hard.
"And what about you?" I force the words out. "You want her too. I saw how you looked at her down there."
"Yes." No hesitation. No shame. "I do."
My breath catches. "So we just—what? Share her? Keep her here like some kind of prisoner?"
"Not a prisoner." Dad's voice drops into that commanding register that makes my spine straighten automatically. "A member of this family. Someone we protect, provide for, and guide. Someone we care for properly, the way her worthless parents never did."
I stare at him, my mind racing through the implications. Through images of Rue stretched between us, cared for, safe, ours.
"It's unconventional," Dad continues, reading my silence accurately.
"Outside societal norms. But that doesn't make it wrong—not if there's respect, consent, and genuine care.
She's a lost girl who was raised in the wrong household, forced into criminal behavior to save her brother.
We're going to give her a decent life. A real family. "
Something clicks into place in my chest.
"And Kurt?" I ask. "Her brother?"
"We'll handle his medical care. Full treatment, transplant if needed, everything. He'll never want for anything again." Dad's jaw sets. "But Rue stays with us. She submits to our authority, accepts our structure, and learns what it means to be properly cared for."
The possessiveness in his tone mirrors everything churning through my own veins. The need to protect her, claim her, keep her safe from everyone who's ever hurt her.
"You really think this can work?" My voice comes out quieter than I intend.
"I know it can." Dad claps a hand on my shoulder, grip firm and grounding. "Trust me."
I do. I always have.
We head back down to the dungeon together.
Rue's head snaps up when we return, amber eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears. Her chest heaves with shallow breaths, making her full breasts sway slightly in the amber light.