Sleepwalking Seduction

The kitchen light casts a warm glow over Jen’s tense shoulders as she jabs at her salad like it’s her mortal enemy. The fork scrapes against the bowl with a sharp, metallic clink, her jaw set, her hazel eyes flicking toward the pizza like a junkie eyeing a fix she can’t have."Ugh, I swear, if I look at that pepperoni one more time, I’m going to lose it," she mutters, her voice tight. "Carbs are the devil’s work."I lean against the counter, arms crossed, watching the way her bicep flexes as she stabs a kale leaf with unnecessary force. She’s got that look—the one that means she’s three seconds from calculating how many burpees it’ll take to burn off a single bite."You’re allowed to eat, you know," I say, keeping my tone easy. "One slice won’t kill you."Jen’s head snaps up, her glare sharp enough to flay skin. "Oh, really? Because last time I checked, you’re not the one who has to squeeze into a size six for the charity gala next week." She shoves the bowl away, the ceramic scraping against the island. "Some of us don’t have the luxury of your metabolism."I smirk, unable to help myself. "Jealousy doesn’t suit you, babe."She rolls her eyes and lazily shoves a leaf of kale in her mouth.Jen looks incredible, so I don’t fully understand where this comes from. She’s tall with long legs, slim figure, and delicious curves. When her ex-husband left her, he cheated on her with a tiny little 20-something, so I guess she’s insecure about that.We’ve only been married for six months, together for eight total. So I suppose when I tell her she looks great, we don’t have enough history for her to believe me. It would be too easy to lie to her. But I’m not.Olivia’s soft voice cuts through the kitchen as she pushes the door open frantically. "I haven’t heard back from Harvard yet."My head whips toward her. She’s gripping her phone in her hand and refreshing her email every second. Her brunette hair falls like a curtain around her face. She drops her phone on the table and delicately fingers the dainty gold cross around her neck, a nervous tick of hers.The way she speaks, quiet and defeated, twists something inside me. I push off the counter and cross the room in three strides, my hand landing on her shoulder before I can second-guess it. Her skin is warm, her bones delicate beneath my fingers, like a fucking sparrow’s."Hey," I say, giving her a gentle squeeze. "You’re Olivia fucking Carter. They’d be idiots not to take you."She lifts her head, her lashes damp, her hazel eyes red-rimmed. "What if I’m not good enough?" she whispers, her voice cracking.I don’t know Olivia very well, but I know she’s more than good enough for Harvard. At 18, she’s about to graduate high school as her class valedictorian with more extra curriculars than I have fingers to count them on.But hearing her doubt herself, something stirs in my chest. Something protective. She might not be blood, but she’s my stepdaughter. My family now.I want to grab her, pull her into my lap, and tell her I’d burn the whole fucking Ivy League to the ground before I let them make her feel this way. Instead, I keep my touch light, my voice steady. "Then it’s their loss. You’ll go somewhere else, and you’ll be the smartest person in the room."She swallows hard and my eyes inadvertently drop to the center, watching as it gently bobs. I force my eyes away before I let that thought run too far away. I mean, Olivia is gorgeous. Slim with a fit runner’s body, beautiful hear shaped face and soft hazel eyes. I’ve noticed her beauty many times, but it’s never gone further than that."Thanks, Grant," she murmurs, her fingers still tangled in her necklace. "I just… I really wanted this.""I know," I say, my voice rough. "But you’ll get what you deserve. Always."Her lips part, like she’s about to say something else, but then she just nods, her gaze dropping back to her phone.I grab a slice from the counter and eat it. Not able to stop thinking about her slim throat and how good it might feel around my cock.Fuck. I’m going to Hell, aren’t I?***The house is dead silent by the time I slip into bed beside Jen. She’s already out, breathing deep and even, the melatonin she took knocking her out cold for her beauty sleep. The sheets smell like her floral perfume and the AC hums softly, cooling the sweat on my skin.I roll over on my side, doing my mental checklist of everything on the agenda tomorrow, readying myself for sleep.Then I hear a sound.I jolt upright and quietly walk to the door. A soft, quiet creaking. Almost rhythmic in its movements. I don’t know what it is, but I know I have to find out.I move down the hallway quietly, approaching the epicenter of the sound. My heart stills when I realize it’s coming from Olivia’s room.I shouldn’t go in. I know I shouldn’t.She’s probably just shifting in bed, tossing and turning from the stress. But this isn’t normal. She usually sleeps soundly through the night–well, not always. I’ve never seen it, but Jen’s mentioned how Olivia used to sleepwalk. At least, that’s the excuse she gave me for the lock being on the fridge.I always thought it was a lie just to rationalize Jen’s weird self-restraint tools she implemented for her diets.My hand rests on the doorknob and I turn it as slowly as I can, making sure the door doesn’t squeak as I push it open.I push the door open an inch, just enough to see.Olivia’s on her bed, eyes closed and facing the door. Slivers of moonlight cast through the curtains illuminating her like she is the prize at the end of a rainbow. Sheets are twisted around her ankles, her sleep tank top is raised to show off her flat stomach.She’s on her knees in a pair of panties, her body moving in slow, rolling waves. The bed creaks under her as her hips undulate over the giant stuffed teddy bear she keeps on her bed.Her hips are grinding, a slow, hypnotic rhythm against the giant stuffed bear. The thing’s wedged between her thighs as she bucks back and forth teasing her clit against it. One hand grips the bear’s fur, her nails digging in, while the other rests on her stomach, her fingers twitching like she’s fighting the urge to touch herself.And she’s fully asleep. At least I think she is.My cock jerks, swelling painfully in my boxers. I should leave. I should. This is a deeply private moment that I wasn’t meant to see.But I can’t. I’m frozen, my breath shallow, my pulse wild in my ears.She bites her lip hard, the plush pink darkening as she sinks her teeth into the supple flesh.Olivia whimpers, her hips picking up speed, her thighs squeezing the bear like she’s trying to fuck it. Even through the bear’s fur, the sound is wet, obscenely delicious as her juices seep through her cotton panties and soak the bear. Her face is serene, almost angelic, her brows slightly furrowed like she’s chasing something just out of reach."Mmm—" The sound slips from her lips, soft and needy, and my balls ache.I adjust myself, my palm pressing against the head of my cock through the fabric. The friction isn’t enough. Nothing’s enough. I want to see her fingers dip beneath that panties, exploring her tight cunt.Her hand slides down, her fingers slipping under the waistband of her panties. A shudder runs through her, her back arching off the bed, her breath hitching."Grant—" The word is a whisper, a plea, and my stomach clenches so hard I nearly groan.Fuck. Fuck.My name. Olivia moaned my name.I should go. I have to go. But my feet won’t move. I’m transfixed, my cock leaking pre-cum, my mind racing with images of what I’d do to her if she were awake—if she were mine. I’d strip her bare, spread her out on this bed, and lick her until she screamed. I’d fuck her raw, make her take every inch until she couldn’t walk straight.I’d ruin her for anyone else.Olivia’s fingers move faster, her hips stuttering, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps."Please—" She’s begging now, her voice thick with sleep, her body tense. The bear’s getting the full force of her movements, her thighs shaking, her toes curling against the sheets.God, I want to be that fucking bear.Olivia lets out a low, guttural moan as her entire body shudders. Her head flies back and she slows her movements, mouth hanging open as every inhale is sharp and filled with need.I can’t take this anymore. Fuck. Me.I turn away, my chest heaving, my cock throbbing. The hallway’s dark, the air thick with the scent of her arousal. I stumble back to my room, my hand already shoving into my boxers, gripping my shaft. It’s iron-hard, the veins standing out, the head slick with pre-cum.Jen’s still asleep, her back to me, her breathing steady. I don’t go to the bathroom or my office like I should. The risk of getting caught jerking off only makes this hotter, the adrenaline sharpening every sensation.I stroke myself slowly at first, my palm slick against the head, my thumb swiping over the slit. My mind’s still in Olivia’s room. On her flushed skin, her parted lips, the way she said my name like a prayer. I imagine her hands on me instead of that fucking bear, her slim fingers wrapping around my cock, her thumb circling the head just like this.A groan builds in my chest. I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood, my grip tightening. My strokes speed up, my balls drawing tight, the pleasure coiling low in my gut. I picture Olivia beneath me, her legs spread, her cunt glistening, her eyes hazy with sleep as I sink into her for the first time.I know she’d be fucking tight, too. She’s never dated anyone to my knowledge. I’d be her first cock.Hell, I’d want to be her only cock."Grant…" Her voice echoes in my head, and I lose it.My orgasm hits hard, my cock jerking in my fist, ropes of cum splattering over my fingers, my stomach, the sheets. I grind my teeth, my body locking up as I spill, my mind drowning in the filthiest thoughts. Olivia on her knees, her lips wrapped around my cock, her eyes watering as I fuck her throat. Olivia bent over the bed, her ass in the air as I pound into her from behind, her tits bouncing with every thrust. Olivia beneath me, her legs locked around my waist, her cunt clenching around me as I fill her, mark her, make her mine.The last spurts dribble over my knuckles, my breath ragged. The room spins for a second, the high of release leaving me lightheaded. I’m covered in cum, my chest heaving, my skin slick with sweat.Fuck. Fuck.I grab a handful of tissues from the nightstand, wiping myself off with quick, rough movements. The sheets are a mess, but I don’t have the energy to change them. Jen’s still asleep, oblivious. The house is silent except for the hum of the AC, the distant drip of the kitchen faucet.I lie back down, my body spent, my mind still racing. Olivia’s just down the hall, her door slightly ajar, her body probably still warm from the dream that had her writhing like that.I wonder if she’ll remember in the morning. Wonder if she’ll wake up aching, her panties soaked, her skin flushed.I wonder if she’ll know it was me she was dreaming about.I roll onto my side, facing away from Jen. The guilt should be eating me alive. The shame should be suffocating. But all I feel is the ghost of Olivia’s voice in my ear, the echo of her moans, the memory of her hips moving like she was made to ride my cock.And the worst part?I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.The next morning, the kitchen’s bright with sunlight, the scent of coffee thick in the air. Jen’s already at the island, her blonde waves pulled into a ponytail, her gym bag slung over her shoulder. She’s chugging a protein shake, her phone propped up against the fruit bowl, some fitness influencer’s voice blaring about "macros" and "glute activation."Olivia’s at the table, her hair still damp from the shower, her sweater clinging to her shoulders. She’s picking at a bowl of yogurt, her spoon moving slowly, her eyes shadowed. When she sees me, she offers a small smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes."Morning," I say, my voice rough from lack of sleep. I pour myself a coffee, my fingers brushing the mug a little too hard. "You okay?"She nods, but her fingers are tangled in her necklace again. "Yeah. Just tired."Jen glances up from her phone, her brows furrowing. "You look like hell, Liv. Late night?"Olivia’s cheeks flush. "Uh, no. I slept through the night, but I guess I must’ve been tossing and turning a lot."I take a sip of coffee, the liquid burning my tongue. The memory of last night flashes behind my eyes—Olivia’s hips rolling, her fingers slipping beneath her panties, the way she whispered my name. My cock stirs, and I shift slightly, willing it to behave.So, she was definitely asleep. She was asleep, dreaming of my cock as she came."I’ll give you some melatonin tonight," Jen says, tossing her empty shake bottle into the sink. "Works like a charm. Knocks me out cold."I sip my coffee, trying to hide the excitement knowing I might just get another show from Olivia yet.