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All of their eyes are on me as I make my way out of the room. I can feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away. I refuse to allow them to fall, as I’m stronger than that.
Once I’m safely in my room, I close the door, lean against it, and take deep breaths. I hate that I can’t get the image of Remy’s dark brown eyes out of my mind or how he makes me feel.
The first thing I do in my room is strip and grab my vibrator from my nightstand drawer. I jump onto the bed, and turn it on. Remy Morrone has been the star of my sick fantasies since we met.
He’s a God of a man. Built like a man half his age, and his facial lines only add to his pure masculine beauty. I bite my lip as I picture him grabbing me with his huge hands and hoisting me onto his lap, both naked, as he orders me to ride his cock.
My back arches off the bed as my pleasure heightens, and I know it won’t take long for me to come. I can feel the phantom pressure of his hand wrapped around my wrist.
“Fuck, Daddy!” I cry as I come apart, hit with a wave of shame the moment my high crashes.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I bury my face in the pillows on the bed and try to ignore the voice of shame telling me I’m fucked up. No matter how much I try to ignore the sexual attraction I feel around Remy, it won’t go away.
6
REMY
Ienter the library and immediately freeze in my tracks. Ella sits on the couch with her legs tucked beneath her and a book in her hand, looking unbelievably beautiful.
If I’d met her before I’d eloped with Erin, then there’s no way Erin and I would be married. Ella is kind, innocent, and not cut out for the world her mom dragged her into.
Erin is an entirely different story. A gold digger through and through. We met, and the attraction was hot and fiery, and yet the moment I put a ring on it, she decided she couldn’t be bothered to suck my dick anymore. We haven’t had any sexual contact since she moved in, and part of me knows it’s because I can’t imagine having sex with her while thinking of her daughter.
Erin’s constantly leaving and writing me notes despite the fact I told her she needs security wherever she goes. I was furious this morning when I woke to find a note in the closet pinned to my suit. She doesn’t understand the danger that follows her now she’s a Morrone.
As I watch Ella from the doorway, I envy how young and untainted by the darkness she is. The darkness that breathes within me wants to corrupt her. I’ve wanted her since the moment I set eyes on her. A rather questionable desire, considering she’s my stepdaughter and younger than my two daughters.
The only way I know how to handle it is to treat her like shit to make sure she doesn’t get too close. I’d easily lose control if she did.
Luca and Leo are utterly rotten to her, probably because they want her too.
It’s no surprise. She’s an innocent and beautiful goddess that men like us long to defile. I’m not a good man, and I don’t fucking pretend to be. If I got my hands on that sweet, innocent thing, I’d destroy her, utterly consume every part of the good within her until she’d be nothing but a husk.
“Remy,” Ella says my name suddenly, breaking my perverse train of thought. “Sorry, do you want me to leave?”
I shake my head. “No, I was going to select something to read.” My eyes move to the book she’s holding. “What are you reading?”
Her cheeks flush, and she hides it out of view. “Nothing much.”
Her embarrassed reaction makes me want to know what she’s reading even more, but I don’t push it. “Fine.” I shake my head. “You spend so much time here. Have you got any recommendations?”
“What do you like reading?” She asks, her eyes alight with hope that perhaps we’ve found some common ground.
I sense that Ella would have liked me to be a father figure to her, but that was unlikely to happen even if I wasn’t disgustingly attracted to her to the point I couldn’t be in the same room as her without a semi-hard cock. Since I got married, I’ve had to take matters into my own hands more than ever.
“Thrillers. I like a good thriller when I have time to read.”
Her brow arches. “Because your life isn’t thrilling enough?”
I can’t help the small smile that creeps onto my lips. My life is more than thrilling. Every day, I live in danger, and I love it. “I guess not.”
She sighs, walking over to me. The moment she’s within a foot of me, I smell that sweet strawberry scent of whatever hair product she uses. It makes it even harder to keep my sick fantasies at bay when she smells so damn divine.
“Have you read Gillian Flynn?” she asks, searching a bookcase nearby.
I shake my head. “No, should I have?”
