All Chapters of My Mom's Boyfriend : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

(Beverley’s POV)I barely slept that night. The conversation with Mom kept replaying in my head on an endless loop, like a broken record I couldn’t turn off no matter how hard I tried. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her hopeful face from earlier in the evening, that soft, almost apologetic expression as she told me my future had already been decided without me. The anger sat heavy in my chest, a tight, burning knot mixed with something sharper and more painful. Betrayal. It cut deep, like a knife twisting slowly.I tossed and turned for hours under my sheets, kicking them off when they felt too suffocating, then pulling them back up when the chill from the AC hit my skin. My room, once my safe little sanctuary with its string lights, posters from high school plays, and the stack of college brochures I’d collected over the years, now felt like a cage. I stared at the ceiling cracks I’d memorized over the years, tracing them with my eyes in the dark. How had things spiraled so fast?

(Beverley’s POV)I stayed in my room for the rest of the evening, curled up on my bed with my knees pulled tight to my chest like I was trying to disappear into myself. The slap from Mom still stung on my cheek, a hot, throbbing reminder every time I touched it, but it was nothing compared to the deep, hollow ache in my chest. Her words kept echoing in my head on repeat, “It’s final.” Like my entire future, my chance at independence, my escape from this mess, was something she and Marcus could just casually decide over dinner like it was nothing more than choosing a restaurant.I hated her for it. I hated him so much more.The house felt smaller than ever, suffocating, like the walls were closing in. Every creak of the floorboards downstairs, every low murmur of their voices drifting up through the vents made my skin crawl. I could hear them talking, Mom’s soft, tired, defeated tone and Marcus’s deep, calm, reassuring one. He was probably down there right now, holding her, rubbing her

(Beverley’s POV)I couldn’t sleep. Not even close.After the last message from Marcus, my body refused to settle. I’d tossed and turned for what felt like hours, the sheets twisted around my legs like restraints. My pussy was still swollen, sensitive, and aching from the intense orgasm I’d given myself while reading his filthy words. Every tiny shift of my thighs made me acutely aware of how wet I still was, sticky, slick, and throbbing with leftover need. The words kept echoing in my head on an endless filthy loop:“One day soon I’m going to make you cum on my cock instead of your fingers.”I groaned softly into my pillow, pressing my thighs together in a desperate attempt to ease the pressure. It only made it worse. Heat pooled low in my belly, my nipples tight and tingling against the thin fabric of my tank top. I finally gave up, sitting up in bed and running shaky fingers through my messy hair. The house was dead silent now. Mom and Marcus must have fallen asleep long ago. I gla

Beverley’s POV)I hurried back to my room after the hallway encounter, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest. I closed the door behind me as quietly as I could and leaned against it, breathing hard, my legs shaky and weak. The feeling of Marcus’s body so close, his radiating heat, the low, gravelly whisper of his voice saying those filthy things right against my ear, it was all too much. Too overwhelming. My skin still tingled where he’d touched me, and my pussy was throbbing with unmet need, soaking my tiny shorts.I crawled into bed, pulled the covers over my head like a shield, and tried desperately to calm down. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw him, shirtless, muscular, towering over me with that dark hunger in his gaze. My phone buzzed on the nightstand.Marcus: You ran away so fast, baby girl. Did I scare you? Or are you touching yourself right now thinking about what could have happened if I hadn’t let you go?We talked for some time. The g

Beverley’s POV)I barely made it to my room before my legs gave out completely.I closed the door behind me and leaned heavily against it, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. My lips felt swollen and tingling from Marcus’s possessive kisses. My nipples were painfully hard, rubbing against the thin fabric of my tank top with every shaky inhale. And my pussy… God, my pussy was throbbing, swollen and soaked through my tiny pink shorts. I could still feel the ghost of his hard cock grinding against my thigh under the stairs, the heat of his body, the filthy promises he’d whispered while my mom was just a few steps away in the living room.This was spiraling dangerously out of control.I should have been horrified. I should have locked the door, taken a cold shower, and tried to forget any of this ever happened. Instead, I found myself stumbling over to my bed, collapsing onto it and staring blankly at the ceiling, replaying every single second in vivid detail, the way he’d pin