4. Maisie
MAISIE
I fall asleep in Marcus's arms around ten, my body heavy with exhaustion.
The confrontation with my mother, the intense sex, the weight of choosing him over everything familiar—it all catches up to me.
His steady breathing and the warmth of his chest against my back lull me into deep sleep.
The soreness between my legs is a pleasant reminder of how thoroughly he claimed me.
My last conscious thought: I'm exactly where I belong.
Something pulls me from sleep.
My awareness surfaces gradually, consciousness hovering in that strange space between dreaming and waking. I'm on my back, legs spread. Warmth between my thighs. Wet pressure against my pussy.
My brain struggles to process what's happening.
Then the sensation intensifies—a tongue, definitely a tongue, licking through my folds.
My eyes flutter but don't open, body still heavy with sleep. The realization hits: Marcus is going down on me while I sleep.
Heat floods through me immediately. I could open my eyes, let him know I'm awake. But something makes me hesitate. The memory of our first night surfaces—me unconscious from sleeping pills, him taking what he wanted. The somno fantasy we acted out.
The idea of pretending to be asleep while he uses me sends arousal coursing through my veins.
I make the decision consciously. Keep my eyes closed. Keep my breathing deep and even. Let him think I'm still unconscious. See what he does when he thinks I can't respond.
Marcus's tongue circles my clit with practiced skill. I focus on keeping my breathing steady even as my body screams to react. Every instinct demands I arch into his mouth, moan, grab his hair. Instead, I force myself to remain mostly still.
I allow only small movements that could pass as unconscious reactions. A slight shift of my hips. My thighs falling more open. A quiet sound in my throat.
"Mmm..."
Marcus pauses. I feel his gaze lift to my face. I keep my eyes closed, my expression relaxed, neutral.
After a moment, he continues.
His tongue licks through my folds again, then focuses on my clit with devastating precision.
The pleasure builds rapidly. This is even hotter than I imagined—the vulnerability of being "asleep" while he pleasures me, knowing he thinks I'm unconscious.
My stepfather eating my pussy while I pretend to sleep.
The wrongness of it makes it more arousing.
I wonder if he did this the first night too, when I was actually unconscious from the sleeping pills. The idea sends heat pooling low in my belly. I'm getting wetter, my body responding despite my effort to seem asleep.
Marcus's attention becomes more aggressive. He sucks my clit into his mouth, tongue flicking over it rapidly.
My control wavers. A louder moan escapes.
"Ahh..."
My hips lift slightly off the bed. I fight not to grind against his face. His large hands grip my thighs, holding them spread wide. He continues the assault on my clit, clearly trying to make me come.
The pleasure builds rapidly, my body tightening. I'm getting close, too close.
My breathing has definitely changed, no longer the deep even rhythm of sleep. I wonder if Marcus has noticed, if he knows I'm awake. But he doesn't stop, doesn't call me out. His tongue works my clit relentlessly.
I'm seconds from coming when he suddenly pulls away.
The loss of stimulation makes me want to whimper in frustration. I maintain my stillness, eyes closed. The bed shifts as he moves.
Marcus positions himself between my legs. The head of his cock presses against my entrance. He pushes inside in one slow thrust.
The stretch forces a quiet sound from me.
"Mmm..."
He buries himself completely, his hips flush against mine. Pauses there. I can feel his gaze on my face, checking if I'm still "asleep."
I keep my expression neutral, relaxed, despite the fullness of him inside me.
After a moment, he begins to move.
Marcus establishes a steady rhythm, controlled thrusts that push deep.
Each stroke hits spots that make me want to scream.
I allow small reactions—soft moaning sounds, my head turning slightly on the pillow, my hands moving restlessly on the sheets.
Small shifts of my hips that could be unconscious.
But I don't open my eyes. Don't speak. Don't fully respond.
Internally, I'm overwhelmed with sensation and arousal. This is harder than I expected. Every instinct screams at me to participate fully. But the game is too thrilling to break.
His breathing grows heavier. His grip on my hips tightens. His thrusts become harder, more forceful.
"Fuck, still so tight..."
He's talking to me even though he thinks I'm asleep. The possessive words send shivers through me.
"My girl. Mine to fuck whenever I want."
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning loudly. My pussy clenches around his cock involuntarily.
Marcus groans.
"That's it. Your body knows who it belongs to."
My control is rapidly deteriorating. The pleasure is too intense, building to a peak I can't prevent.
My body is going to betray me. I can feel it.
I try desperately to keep quiet, keep still.
But my breathing comes faster, small gasps escaping.
My hips lift to meet his thrusts despite my effort to stay passive.
Marcus's pace increases, clearly chasing his own release. His thrusts become almost punishing in their intensity.
I'm not going to be able to maintain the pretense much longer.
Marcus's hand slides between us, finding my clit. Rubs it in firm circles while continuing to fuck me.
That's the end of my control.
My orgasm builds rapidly, pleasure coiling tight. I try to fight it, try to keep from giving myself away. But it's impossible. The combination of his cock and his fingers on my clit pushes me over the edge.
My pussy starts to clench around him rhythmically. I can't stop the moan that rises in my throat.
"Marcus—oh god?—"
My back arches off the bed. My eyes fly open.
I meet Marcus's gray eyes in the dim light from the windows. He's looking down at me with dark satisfaction. Doesn't stop fucking me, riding me through my orgasm.
"You're awake."
It's not a question.
"Yes—I'm awake—I was awake?—"
His expression shifts to something predatory.
"How long?"
I can barely form words.
"The whole time—since you—ahh—started?—"
Marcus's thrusts become harder, more aggressive. He grips my hips bruisingly tight. Leans down so his mouth is at my ear.
"You were pretending?"
I nod frantically.
"Yes—wanted to—wanted to feel?—"
Another moan cuts me off.
"You wanted to feel me using you. Just like the first night."
The understanding in his voice sends another spike of arousal through me. He pulls back to look at my face.
"Dirty girl. My dirty girl."
The possessive praise makes me clench around him again.
Now that the pretense is broken, I respond fully. My hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into his tattooed skin. My legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his ass. I meet his thrusts, taking him as deep as possible.
"Yes—yours—fuck me?—"
Marcus's control fractures completely. His movements become erratic, forceful. I can tell he's close by the tension in his body. His hand returns to my throat—not squeezing, just possessively resting there. The gesture of dominance and ownership.
Marcus buries himself as deep as possible. His cock pulses inside me as he comes.
"Fuck—Maisie?—"
I feel the warmth of his cum flooding my pussy. The sensation triggers another small orgasm for me, aftershocks rippling through my body.
"Marcus—yes?—"
He holds himself deep, making sure every drop of his cum stays inside me. His forehead drops to rest against mine, both of us breathing hard.
After a moment, he lifts his head to look at me.
"You're going to be the death of me."
Marcus carefully pulls out. Rolls us to our sides, facing each other. His hand strokes my hair, my face, gentle after the intensity.
"I woke up and felt you... and I just wanted to see what you'd do if you thought I was still asleep."
"And what did I do?"
I flush.
"Exactly what I wanted."
His thumb brushes across my lower lip.
"You could have told me you were awake."
"I know. But pretending was... exciting."
Marcus studies my face.
"You liked the somno aspect. Being used while supposedly unconscious."
I nod.
"Is that weird?"
"It's not weird. It's a fantasy you clearly enjoy."
His hand slides down to rest on my hip.
"But I need to know when you're actually asleep versus pretending."
"Why?"
"Because consent matters. Even in this. Especially in this."
The seriousness in his voice makes my heart clench. I touch his face.
"I consent. To all of it. Awake or asleep. I want you to have that freedom with my body."
Marcus's gray eyes search mine.
"You're sure? This isn't something you feel pressured into?"
My response is firm.
"I'm sure. I set up that first night, remember? This is what I want. You're what I want."
Marcus pulls me closer, my head tucking under his chin. His arms wrap around me protectively. The contrast between his dominant sexuality and his tender aftercare.
I feel safe. Claimed. Cherished.
"Then we'll keep exploring this. But we establish rules. Safe words. Clear communication."
I nod against his chest.
"Okay."
"And Maisie? Next time you want to pretend to be asleep, you tell me beforehand. So I know what game we're playing."
I smile.
"Deal."
We lie together in comfortable silence. The clock on Marcus's nightstand reads 2:47 AM. My eyes grow heavy, exhaustion pulling at me. His steady heartbeat under my ear is soothing. His hand strokes my back in slow, rhythmic motions.
"Marcus?"
His response is a low rumble.
"Hmm?"
"I love being yours."
I feel his arms tighten around me briefly.
"Good. Because I'm never letting you go."
Those are the last words I hear before sleep claims me again. This time truly asleep, wrapped in my stepfather's arms.
Safe and claimed and exactly where I want to be.