Page 11 of Claimed By my Stepbrother
He breaks the kiss, just as I get used to the pressure of his lips on mine. “I’m yours, Sirena. That’s what I am. Whatever you were going to say doesn’t change that,” he whispers, his lips barely touching mine. His tongue snakes out, licking my bottom lip in a sensual caress.
My lips part on a gasp that Knox swallows as his mouth finds mine again, his velvety hot tongue sneaking into my mouth.
It’s not what I imagined for my first kiss—it’s so much more. It feels incredible. A thrill shoots through me as his thumb slides over my jaw, burning my skin.Holy fuck!He smells so good. His hand cups my cheek firmly while he kisses me like he can’t get enough. I thought he hated me, but his actions tell a different story. I’m starting to question everything I thought about this man.
The entire world is spinning around me as I lose myself in the intimacy of Knox’s touch. It feels like our souls are now intertwined. I don’t think I can survive without his kiss giving me life.
"Babygirl," he whispers against my lips before straightening, the spell I’m under starting to fade with the distance between us. "What are you doing to me? You've got me all tied up in knots, and you're standing here, totally unaffected. It's not fair."
I run a hand through my tangled hair, stealing a moment to compare myself. Sighing, I look at him, trying to read his expression. "I—I can't stay here, Knox. It's not appropriate. Our parents wouldn't like it, and that…" I gesture between us. "That can never happen again." My voice lacks conviction, and even I don't believe the lies coming from my mouth.
He tilts his head, his penetrating gaze burning into me. "I know you enjoyed it, Sirena, and you know we both want to do it again. Why are you putting their needs ahead of your own?" he asks, studying me closely, reading me like an open book.
I shake my head, unwilling to admit the truth of his words. "I'm not. I—I didn't want that. And, it won't happen again." My words would carry more weight if my bottom lip wasn't trembling with guilty desire and anger. "Stay away from me, Knox!"
My shout has its desired effect. Knox retreats several steps, giving me much-needed space to breathe without the influence of his scent or touch.
"I'll give you time and a little bit of space to adjust, but that's never going to happen, babygirl." He watches me, reaching a hand out to touch my shoulder, but drops it before he makes contact.
"I'll tell you whatisgoing to happen. First, I'm going to get you settled safely on the couch, then I'm going to let your mother and Rowan know that you're moving in here with me. Then," he pauses dramatically.
"Then, babygirl, I'm going to come back home and eat your pussy until you're screaming my name, utterly addicted to what only I can give you, and your knees shake so hard you’re unable to walk away from me."
He grabs my hand, pulling me to the couch and piling velvet pillows around me. He hands me a remote, pointing at a humongous framed painting on one wall. "We get every channel you could want, and if there's nothing that strikes your fancy, we have every streaming service."
He leans down to kiss the top of my head. "I'll be home soon, babygirl. Behave."
"Knox," I protest as he strides to the door. "You can't possibly do this." My voice sounds whiny, even to my own ears, and I'm slightly embarrassed, but if my tone can sway his stubbornness, I'm willing to roll with it.
"Watch me,” he says dismissively, turning on his heel and storming out of the penthouse without another word.
As soon as he's gone, I crawl from the mountain of pillows and run to the door, finding it locked.Just fucking great.It seems like the only way to open it, even from the inside, is with his stupid watch.
I pace back and forth impatiently, stewing until Knox comes sauntering back through the door, slinging my duffel bag over his shoulder and holding my purse.
“Here,” he says with a grin. “Your mom brought your purse back from school.” He hands it to me, chuckling when I snatch it from his fingers. “It’s late. Come on., I’ll show you to your room.”
I don’t have the energy to fight him anymore tonight, so I nod, following him as he leads me up to the second floor, my duffel bag flung over one of his shoulders, much like I was only a few hours ago.
Hoping he grabbed the essentials for a sleepover, I decide I’m going to just get ready for bed, force myself to fall asleep despite the overwhelming tension coursing through my veins, and deal with this—this problem—tomorrow.
He leads me to a room nearly identical to the one I have at Rowan’s, but the decor is much more inviting. A rich emerald green quilted velvet focal wall breaks up the cold stone. It looks inviting, and my fingers itch to run over it.
A bed juts out from the fabric-draped wall in a shocking juxtaposition of colors and textures. The black steel frame looks futuristic and is so large it takes up nearly half of the width of the wall. The mattress looks thick and inviting, topped with stark white bedding and a silky jade quilt folded in the middle. Gold pendant lights hang above it all, giving it a glamorous finishing touch.
“The closet is through that door, and over there,” he gestures to a mirrored door across from the foot of the bed, “is your en suite bathroom.” I’m relieved that I won’t need to share a bathroom with him, though a brief pang of disappointment that I won’t catch a sight of him in his boxers getting ready for bed shoots through me.
I’m able to slow my rapidly beating heart. “Thank you,” I murmur, turning away from him to take in my room again. Focusing on the little details—like the tiny shimmering diamonds mounted in the corners of the grouted wall tiles.
My life has been a whirlwind since Mom met Rowan, and now I can’t think straight. I’ve never wanted anyone like I want Knox Valenti. Every time he gets close to me, my pulse races, and I lose all sense of self-control. I don’t know how I’m going to escape this with my heart intact, but he’s my stepbrother—the one man in this world I can’t have. I’ve got to keep fighting these inappropriate feelings.
Coming to a stop behind me, Knox places his warm hands on my shoulders. He leans down, kissing the top of my head. “Well, I’ll leave you to settle in. Goodnight, babygirl.”
Before I can say anything, he’s walking out of the room, shutting the door behind him, and leaving me alone. Earlier, before he left, he made promises—promises that sound sinfully delicious. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed that he didn’t follow through. I wander listlessly, unable to get comfortable in the unfamiliar space.
With a resigned sigh, I dig in my duffel bag for my toiletries, hoping a hot shower will soothe my ragged soul and allow me to sleep for a few hours before I have to face him tomorrow.
One thing I appreciate about living in the luxurious penthouse, which I will never take for granted again, is an unlimited supply of hot water. At the house I shared with Mom, the hot water tank was stingy, barely allowing both of us to take a short, tepid shower.
