Page 27 of Jealous Stepbrother
All gas, no brakes.
As to how long I could hold out… well, that was the fucking gold-plated question, wasn’t it?
Scarlett
Morning arriveswith razor sharp clarity.
I would blame the giddy summer sunshine if the floor-to-ceiling drapes weren’t obscuring the light, leaving the room in semi-darkness.
No, my agitated state stems entirely from every nerve in my body remembering exactly what happened last night.
I blink awake in my bed in the guest wing of his glass-and-chrome kingdom, hair mussed, panties missing, thighs still trembling from the way his mouth and his dirty talk and the absolute immorality of it all destroyed me against the wall.
I’m furious.
Furious that I let him touch me. Furious that I wanted it. Furious that… God help me… the part of me that’s supposed to feel shame is purring like a cat in the sun.
I bury my face in the pillow with a groan, trying to shove it down, but my body betrays me. The ache low in my belly pulses with every remembered lick, every groaned curse against my skin.
My hips shift restlessly under the sheets. A moan slips out before I can choke it back, exactly like the one I made yesterday morning.
And just like yesterday morning, the sound summons the devil.
The click of the balcony door.
The solid, measured steps across my room.
The shadow falling over me before I even roll onto my back.
I don’t need to open my eyes or turn over to know Asher’s here.
But the compulsion I can’t fight flips me over.
He’s not wearing a suit. Just a pair of black sweats riding low on his hips, every inch of his upper body bare and golden in the morning light. His hair is still damp, like he’s just stepped out of the shower. And his eyes… God, those eyes are already fixed on me like he’s been replaying everything too.
“Morning, baby sis,” he says, voice low and gravelly. “Thought about you all night.”
I sit up fast, tugging the sheet with me. “Get out.”
“No, princess.” He steps closer, slow, deliberate, until the mattress dips under the weight of one knee propped far too close to my hip. “I came in here because we’re going to settle something.”
“No. I’m not?—”
“Shut up.”
The two words cut through me like a blade. My mouth snaps shut.
He plants his knee firmer on the bed, leans over me, and I realize with a shock that his waistband is pulled down, that his hand is wrapped around his cock, stroking slow and firm. He’s already thick, hard, flushed. And he’s not even pretending to hide it.
Stroke.“I don’t want to start the day pissed off again. And you don’t want that either, do you, baby?”
There’s a trick in there somewhere but since I can’t see it… yet… I have no choice but to shake my head, my gaze pinging with sickening compulsion between his face and his fat dick.
“Good. Then we’re going to talk about that night,” he breathes.Stroke. “The one in my room. Four years ago.”
My stomach flips. “No.”
Stroke. Stroke.“Yes.” His hand tightens around himself.
