Chapter 1

My mother he dropped a bombshell that left me speechless.

She had gotten married.

Ethan Blackwood. My new stepfather. Forty-five years old, the current Don of the powerful Blackwood mafia family. That was almost everything I knew about him.

I kept asking myself the same question.

What kind of woman marries Ethan Blackwood?

More importantly...

What kind of daughter becomes part of the Blackwood family overnight?

As if that weren't enough, Ethan had insisted on throwing a grand welcome party at Blackwood Manor so the entire family could officially meet me.

I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the front of my white dress one last time.

The fitted fabric hugged my curves perfectly, accentuating my full breasts before skimming over my narrow waist and falling elegantly around my hips. My long golden-blonde hair cascaded over my shoulders, framing a pair of striking green eyes that stared back at me from the mirror.

At twenty-two, I had never doubted my appearance. If tonight demanded perfection, I was determined to give nothing less.

Satisfied that every strand of hair was in place and every detail was flawless, I picked up my clutch and stepped into the chauffeured car waiting outside for me.

As the car pulled away toward Blackwood Manor, I clasped my purse a little tighter. My palms were damp despite the cool air, yet beneath the nervousness lingered another emotion I couldn't quite suppress—a quiet curiosity, perhaps even anticipation, about the man I was about to meet.

The moment I stepped into the elegant candlelit dining room in my tight white dress, I saw him.

Ethan Blackwood stood at the head of the table like a king. Tall, powerfully built, with jet-black hair neatly combed back and piercing gray eyes that locked onto me instantly. His tailored dark suit hugged his broad shoulders and narrow waist perfectly, radiating mature, dangerous masculinity and raw control. He was devastatingly handsome in that older, commanding way that made my knees feel weak.

The second our eyes met, heat flooded my body. My nipples stiffened instantly against the thin fabric of my dress, and a shameful rush of wetness soaked my panties. My pussy clenched with sudden, forbidden need.

"Welcome, Ava," he said in a deep, velvety voice that sent shivers racing down my spine. He walked over and took my hand. His large, warm palm engulfed mine, his thumb stroking my skin possessively. "I've been looking forward to meeting my beautiful stepdaughter."

It felt like his gaze was peeling off my clothes, leaving me completely bare.My chest heaved with ragged breaths, and my swollen nipples, exquisitely sensitive, strained against the fabric, aching with a rawness that left no room for doubt.

Throughout dinner, I sat beside him, intensely aware of his presence. His rich masculine scent—expensive cologne mixed with raw male heat—made my head spin. My mother was already drunk, laughing loudly and leaning into him, but Ethan's attention kept returning to me. Every glance felt like a caress, making my pussy throb and drip.

Then my mother knocked over her champagne glass.

The cold liquid splashed directly across my chest. I gasped sharply as the icy champagne soaked through my white dress, making the thin fabric turn almost transparent. My full, round breasts were completely outlined, the pink edges of my areolas faintly visible, and my stiff nipples poked out obscenely, begging for attention.

Before I could react, Ethan's strong arm wrapped around my waist. "I'll take care of her," he said in a low, commanding tone that left no room for discussion. He guided me out of the room, his big hand firm on my hip, fingers occasionally brushing the underside of my breast.

In the hallway, his touch grew bolder. By the time we reached the luxurious bedroom prepared for me, my thighs were already slick with arousal.

The door clicked shut behind us, sealing us in. The air instantly turned thick and scorching hot.

"Stepfather… I can handle it myself," I whispered, my voice already breathy and weak.

Ethan said nothing. He fetched a soft towel from the bathroom and stood before me, towering and imposing. His intense gray eyes burned as they roamed over my soaked dress. The intoxicating scent of him—warm skin, cologne, and pure male dominance—made my pussy flutter desperately.

At first, his touch was gentle. He pressed the towel to my chest, carefully dabbing at the champagne. The soft fabric teased over my sensitive skin, brushing my swollen nipples again and again. I bit my lip hard, barely holding back a moan as sparks of pleasure shot straight to my core.

Then the gentleness melted into something much hotter.

His hand cupped my left breast fully, squeezing the soft, heavy flesh with growing hunger. His thumb circled my aching nipple before pinching and rolling it firmly between his fingers. The sensation was electric. I whimpered, my back arching instinctively, pushing my tits deeper into his skilled hand.

"Ethan…" I moaned softly, my voice turning embarrassingly needy.

He kneaded both of my full breasts now, tugging and twisting my sensitive nipples until they throbbed. The wet white fabric clung transparently to my skin, leaving nothing hidden. His other hand slid down to grip my ass, fingers digging in possessively as he pulled me flush against him. I could feel the thick, hard outline of his cock pressing against my stomach.

My pussy was dripping wet, clenching rhythmically with desperate emptiness. More slick juices ran down my inner thighs.

Ethan leaned in close, his hot breath teasing my ear. "That's it, good girl," he murmured, voice rough with lust. "Let Daddy take proper care of his needy little stepdaughter's wet body…"

He gave my nipple a sharp, delicious twist. I cried out, a fresh gush of arousal flooding from my soaked cunt as I trembled in his powerful arms, completely lost in the forbidden fire of his touch.

The night was only beginning.