Chapter 13

Owen

I stand there, watching the limo pull away as the horde of paparazzi continues to swarm around me.

It pains me to see her go, but I know it’s for the better. It’s the smart and right thing to do.

Not wanting to look more pathetic than I know I already do, I turn away and head back inside. I put my head down and avoid eye contact with the photographers, but one steps right in front of me, blinding me with the flash of his camera.

“Owen! Is this the same woman from last night?”

“Is this serious?” Another one from behind me yells.

I stare blankly in his direction and maneuver around him, staying silent.

Fuck.

After reading Lis’ article this morning, I knew something was brewing, and I knew it wasn’t good. But now, it sounds like they’re starting to put pieces of the night together—the wedding, Mira, Carol, and Carl, me leaving abruptly, the blonde.

I see it happening right before my eyes.

We might already be fucked.

For a brief second, I think about turning around and chasing after Mira. What’s the point of letting her go, if we’re already caught with our hands dirty? But I know that’ll make a bigger scene and add to the speculation.

So, I continue forward, making my way through the cesspool and towards the elevators.

I still can’t figure out how this happened. How—out of all the fucking people there last night—did I wind up seconds away from fucking my niece?

Sorry, correction—step-niece. That’s important to remember.

And why in the hell does she have to be so damn hot? And why does she have to keep fucking taunting me?

Entering the elevator, I punch the button for my penthouse and lean back against the steel walls. Adding to this dirty fucking mess I’m already in, I’m hard—too hard. That almost kiss Mira left me with has my dick stiff as a fucking rod.

I know this is wrong, and everything around us will come crumbling down if I let my dick win, but there’s nothing wrong with imagining it.

Right?

No one gets hurt if let my mind wonder a bit. Envisioning what I’ve been wanting to do to her—fill her body with my dick and pound into her until I see her gasping and begging for me.

Fuck me.

She makes me hornier than usual.

It’s to a level that’s almost painful. Having to restrain myself from not pouncing on her in the backseat of the limo was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

Ok, I’m exaggerating, but it did hurt. And I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself if I’m ever in that situation again.

It’s all the more reason to stay away from her and use my hand for distraction.

I make my way through the kitchen and head straight for my bedroom, needing that specific kind of distraction.

The side of the bed she was sleeping on is still tousled and her stale perfume continues to waft in the air.

I breathe it in, and my dick pulsates.

That smell works better than fucking Viagra. Not that I’ve ever needed it.

Rather than sitting on my bed, I take a seat on the lounge chair across from it, angling it directly at her side of the bed.

I stare at it like the dirty pervert that I am and grab my dick, slowly stroking it. I recall her tight ass body naked, and imagine it laying across my red, thick comforter.

Spreading her underneath me, I watch as her tits bounce, and her lips part in an inviting, playful pout.

I tighten the hold on my dick and imagine her skin against mine as I explore every inch of her body, my hands and tongue doing most of the work.

Her legs part for me like they did in my passenger seat, and I find her cunt dripping wet.

The pace of my hand quickens and sweat forms at my hairline. She’s not even here, and she’s making me work for it.

I see her writhe underneath my tongue, tasting her sweet juices. She moans for me as I finger her slit, her tight cunt enveloping around my hand.

I devour her, like I did that cake. But this time, I’m relentless. I don’t stop.

I eat her until she screams my name, bucking against me and pulling at my hair.

I imagine her feeling the same way I do now, wanting so badly to release and explode, but needing more.

A deep groan escapes me, and I aggressively pump my dick. Precum gathers at the head and I lather it, coating my length with what I imagine is her wetness.

I watch as I thrust into her—hard, making her combust around me.

I put those long, toned legs around my head and pound into her, wanting her to call me by my name.

But being the gentleman that I am, I remind her that if she can’t handle it—if it’s ever too much—say ‘uncle.’

The bearing of that safe word doesn’t escape me, but it makes some sense now. If she ever called me uncle while I’m in her, I’ll definitely stop.

It happens to be the perfect safe word.

That is in my head. This will never happen in real-life.

My balls tighten, and I can feel my muscles tense.

But I don’t want it to be over.

I want to stay inside of her for as long as I can—feel her cunt consuming me like her expert mouth did.

God, that was fucking amazing.

I reach for her tits, feeling the hardness of her nipples against my fingers, and pinch them. She whimpers from the pain, and my cock throbs at the thought of hearing that sound.

My hands grab her ass, remembering how it felt on the dance floor, and my fingers circle her hole. I want to fill every fucking glorious hole in her body.

In my mind.

And then her body stills; I feel it quiver.

My body does the same, jerking against my hand. I stroke my dick so fast that for a second I think I might rub it raw, but my orgasm abruptly rips through me.

I explode, and I reach for the tissues next to me, trying to catch the massive amounts of cum spilling out of me. But I’m too late, and cum goes all over the place.

Shit, it’s a lot.

I continue to stroke my cock, the stiffness gradually softening in my hand, and I picture her tits and stomach glistening with my cum.

It’s so fucking hot. Too bad this is as close as I’ll ever get to seeing that.

Feeling only slightly relieved, I place my hands on the arm rest and focus on calming myself down and catching my breath.

How in the hell am I ever going to get her out my head? Especially since I’ll be seeing her again, thanks to Carl and Carol.

Tucking my semi-hard dick in my pants—seriously the mere thought of her makes me instantly hard—I get up to find something to drink. I worked up a sweat, and I need to cool myself down. Hopefully it’ll finish the job and get her out of my system for good.

But as I walk into the kitchen, something tugs at my feet, and I look down to see her dress wrapping around me. The one she casually took off in the middle of the kitchen this morning, and the same one I couldn’t stop staring at last night.

The memories of it have my dick back to its favorite position when I’m around her—eagerly stiff.

All the dirty possibilities flash through my mind, and even though I know it’s not what I should do, I convince myself that I’ll have to return this dress back to her.

What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t hand-deliver it to its rightful owner?

Even if it happens to be my hot ass step-niece I just imagined coming all over.