Butterfly

by Jo Brenner

“You win,” I called to him. “I’m the idiot who fell for our ‘truce,’ but you win. You can have your house back. I’m getting out of here today.” With that, I turned and headed inside, naked, head held high, trying to ignore the splash, high pitched yelp, and pounding footsteps behind me.

My father interrupted my thoughts when he stood in the doorway. “What did you do, Mason?” he asked, his voice quiet. I shook my head, not bothering to answer. “I know it was you,” he said, voice no longer quiet, but laced with frustration. “I don’t know what you did, but I know you did something. Mason, I swear, if you hurt that girl…”

“Why are your shorts so short, Leslie? Don’t you know we’re in public? Anyone can see your ass,” he hissed. “Funny, you didn’t seem to care that people could see my ass in the past,” I spat at him. “Fuck off, Mace.”

“You still don’t get it, butterfly. You made my life hell because I couldn’t have you. Not when we were both under our parents’ roof. But I’m done with that. I’m taking what’s mine.”

His hand was still making those devastating little circles on my inner thigh, but it started traveling upward⁠— “Mason!” My protest was weak. I felt weak and loose, pliant and submissive. He growled. “That’s not what you’re going to call me in bed, butterfly. Soon enough, you’ll know what I really am to you.”

“I swear to god, butterfly, if you let another man touch my pussy, there will be hell to pay. For both you—and him.”

Even though I wanted to avoid Mason, Fate had other plans. She was a petty bitch who obviously wanted me to be confused and miserable and confused some more. Fuck her.

“Such a bad girl,” he tsked. “I can’t decide if I should punish you for showing so much skin to so many people, or reward you for making it so easy for me to touch you.”

“Maybe you’re both. A bad girl who wore this skirt for my attention, for letting your stepbrother touch you this way. And a good girl for doing what I tell you to do. For spreading your legs and letting me play with what’s mine.”

He pressed down on my clit, hard, and I tripped over the edge into free fall. “That’s right. You come for Daddy,” he murmured, and I couldn’t protest, I was too busy following his orders as my sex spasmed around his fingers and more pleasure than I’d ever felt spilled out of me.

I had plans for my stepsister—the long-term, own-her-forever, lock her down with a ring and plant-fucking-babies in her kind of plans.

He started playing with the hem on my shorts, his touch transporting me back to the way his fingers had felt inside me. I grew embarrassingly wet. “Stop it,” I hissed. “Hey.” He shrugged. “You wore them. I can’t help that your legs are too sexy to keep my hands to myself. Can you blame a guy?”

Tell Daddy you want him to treat you like his perfect little cumdumpster.”

Okay… this is the second book written by this author that the MMC has called the MFC this. Really?? 🤮

I was going to hell. And I didn’t even fucking care.

I’d just fucked my stepsister.

Okay, but if you guys didn’t grow up together and your parents JUST got married… it’s not as bad as you’re making it sound

It settled something in me I hadn’t realized had felt off until now. This was my purpose. This was what I was supposed to be doing with my life—taking care of her. It was all I wanted, and it was almost within reach.

Dude, you’re 18… “purpose in life”? Give me a break

“What did they say?” He opened his other eye but didn’t say anything. “Oh. You mean they said something about me.” He shrugged, then groaned. “They won’t do it again, butterfly.” “We talked about this. You can’t beat up anyone who says or does anything bad to me.” He raised a hand, brushing it down my cheek. “Watch me.”

Pro: Honesty made for a healthier foundation in a relationship. Con: She’d dump my ass, and then I would have to kidnap her to a deserted island. I doubted my dad would ignore a charge that large on my Amex.

“Dude, your room is right there.” Emory motioned behind him.

“Remember when we were kids and the teacher would tell us it wasn’t fair to bring a snack unless there was enough to share with the class?” “I remember.” There was a glint in Emory’s eyes. “You saying what I think you’re saying?”

That’s it? One sentence and you not only understand what he’s saying, but you have no hesitation??

“I’ll help.” Using my free hand, I hooked my fingers in her cheek, pulling until her jaw widened.

What am I reading??

Mason carried my limp body into the bathroom, locking the door. “Now you care about someone seeing me naked?” I asked.

“But what are we going to do when people talk shit about them, Mason? When people point and stare and⁠—”

Your children aren’t going to be aliens… and I repeat, no one cares!