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Christine’s jaw drops, but before she can respond, I spank her again. I feel the curve of her bottom with each slap, and I struggle internally with how to proceed. Part of me wants to keep going until she apologizes. Another part of me knows that if I do this much longer, I’ll flip up her skirt and forget that I was once married to her mother.
I only give her another couple of swats, enough to warm her backside and fuel fantasies that will never happen. Then I pull away from her, letting her get to her feet.
“How dare you!” She roars as she stands up, hands immediately reaching behind her to rub her ass. “I’m going to tell,” but Christine stops mid-sentence because who is she going to tell? I’m her legal guardian. She has two uncles who might be interested in hearing what I did to her, but it wasn’t illegal.
“Enjoy your sore ass at prom, dolcezza.” I point toward the door. “Now get out.”
Christine flounders over what to say next. Her mouth opens and shuts like she’s gasping for air. When she can’t find the right words to say, she stomps out of my bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.
I might have fucked up by spanking her, but it improved my mood. My head feels a little lighter, but maybe that’s the meds talking.
Chapter 5
Christine
Present Day
“Don’t you dare threaten me.” My voice quivers in stark contrast to my confidence. “I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. I don’t have to ask for your permission. I’m an adult.”
Niccolo snorts in amusement. “If you have to tell people you're an adult, are you really an adult?" He asks with a teasing lilt before growing serious again. "If you take my car without permission, I’ll call the cops. I don’t care if you’re my stepdaughter; I’ll turn you in so fast you won’t even make it out of the neighborhood.”
I hate him. He makes me so angry that I burn from the inside out. My rage controls my thoughts, forcing me to act out. “I can’t wait until I’m out of this house,” I roar at him. “You can’t tell me what to do when I’m at Blackmore.”
“Newsflash, dolcezza, you're going to be my student. I’m going to be your professor. I can still tell you what to do.”
He’s so infuriating. How is it that he and my mother ever got along? “You’re my professor for one semester,” I remind him. “After that, I never have to see you again.”
He raises an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with mischief before his handsome face wrinkles into a grin. “If that’s what you want, then by all means. Never see me again.” Niccolo turns and leaves, each footstep swallowing up sound as he walks away from me. Finally, only the hollow thud silence echoes off the walls.
I should feel victorious, but instead, I feel defeated. I deflate with disappointment and return to my place on the couch. While I clean up the mess of popcorn left in my wake, I try to make sense of it all.
Niccolo pushes my buttons more than anyone ever has. He has a tendency of getting under my skin. I can never seem to win against him, no matter how hard I try. And I can't shake the feeling that he enjoys putting me in my place.
A few months ago, when he turned me over the foot of the bed and spanked me, I left his room wishing I'd gone to Kansas City with Giovanni after my mother's death. But as the minutes passed to hours and hours became days, I found myself conflicted by the discipline.
I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something about being under his control made my body tingle with excitement. Maybe it was because he was the first person to ever truly hold me accountable for my actions. He saw through my facade of bravado and called me out on my bullshit. It was both terrifying and thrilling, and it made me wish he wasn't my stepfather.
It’s one thing to enjoy being spanked by a lover; it’s something else entirely to enjoy being spanked by someone who was once married to your mother.
Chapter 6
Niccolo
My relationship with Christine changed about a year ago. I can’t remember exactly what happened or when, but one day, I walked into the kitchen and saw her standing by the sink, filling a glass with water from the tap. Our eyes met, and in that instant, my heart yearned for her.
Christine had grown up to be a rare beauty, as smart as a whip and just as funny. She looked at me for a moment, and something passed between us—perhaps it was desire or affection, or maybe even love. But whatever it was, it made me realize that we were more than just former family members living together under the same roof.
I tried to ignore my feelings after that. At seventeen years old, Christine was off limits in more ways than one. I felt like the world’s biggest creep even though I didn’t act on my feelings. I went as far as to go to a therapist to discuss what was wrong with me. He said that there was nothing wrong, per se.
“The wires in your brain have gotten crossed. You’ve been caring for this girl for years now, and it’s normal that the intimate feelings you have for her have changed as she’s matured. But you are her stepparent. Therefore, you need to put those feelings away.”
I tried to lock them up like he suggested, but it’s been difficult. Christine is more than just my stepdaughter; she’s my favorite person to be around, even when she's being a pain in my ass.
When we aren’t at odds with one another, it’s like being with my best friend. She’s insightful and intelligent in a way I’ve never encountered before. She makes me look at things differently and second-guess my preconceived notions.
Last year, she told me she wanted to become a therapist, and when I asked her why, she got shy. It took some coaxing, but she told me in the end.
“I guess I sort of knew when Kaye and her mom were going through everything with Owen. She used to pour out her heart to me like I was the only person in the world who could understand what she was going through. And I didn’t, not really,” Christine added with a frown. Her home life growing up had been radically different from Kaye's.
