Page 7 of Stalker Stepbrother

“W-what?” My mind is in jumbles, a chaotic mess. I can’t even think clearly. I just want him to never stop touching me. It feels so good.

He only smirks in response and tosses both my legs over his shoulders. He jerks my butt to the edge of the seat and rasps, “I’ve been wanting to taste this since the first day I met you. Now, it’s mine. All mine.”

I’m still trying to wrap my head around that revelation when he buries his face in the apex between my thighs. I almost fly off my seat at the sensation of him flattening his tongue on my sensitive button.

Oh my god. What’s happening? Why does this feel so freakin’ good? Like I’m reaching for something…and I’m almost there.

But whatever it is I’m feeling is nothing compared to how my whole body reacts when he plunges his tongue inside me, making me moan loudly. My hips begin to move on their own volition, rotating and grinding on his face. For a moment, I’m scared he can’t breathe anymore, but he wraps an arm around my back and pushes his tongue deeper.

Three seconds later, with my breath coming in short pants, I’m a quivering mess as an intense orgasm takes over me, pleasure singing through every nerve.

I slump on the seat, boneless and sluggish.

Meanwhile, Callum slowly puts my feet back on the floor. He lifts his head and meets my gaze, smiling devilishly, his mouth glistening with my juices. I should feel embarrassed at losing control in front of him like this, but instead, I feel the warmth seep through the fiber of my being.

He wipes his mouth with his thumb, sucks it, and licks it clean. I’ve never seen anything hotter than this…than him.

“You’re mine, baby girl. Mine to protect. Mine to pleasure. Mine to fuck.”

I’m too stunned to say anything, but he tilts his head to the side. “I’m giving you this one chance to run away, Callie. Don’t be fooled by these suits I wear. Down to my marrow, I’m a beast who doesn’t share. Next time, it won’t just be my tongue in your pussy but my cock, filling every corner of your tight channel with my seed. And anyone who touches you, so much as look at your beautiful face and delicious body, I will break every bone in their body.”

Why? Why is this turning me on so much? It’s so caveman and barbaric, and I like it. Is this why none of the boys my age ever caught my attention? Because they’re nothing compared to Callum.

Besides, I want those things. I want those things so badly. To be completely his? Him taking charge? Yes! A thousand times yes! I didn’t know I needed this until he said it. So many things are running through my head, but all I can do is nod and give him a sheepish grin. “I’m not running away, Callum. I’m yours.”

3

CALLUM

Callie is like an addiction.

Kissing her, touching her. It’s my new favorite kind of high. And damn it, I can’t get enough of her. Not now when I’ve finally tasted her. The sweetest juices. And the way she trembled almost made me come in my pants.

It doesn’t matter what I do. Whether I’m at home watching her sleeping or at the office going over test results for our new gadgets. My obsession has claws. And it’s digging deep. So fucking deep I go crazy when I haven’t laid my eyes on her for a few minutes.

The only time I never see her is when she’s at school. Maybe I can just pay her professors—only women—to visit her at home and tutor her. That way, she won’t have to leave the house. She won’t have to suffer the attention of pathetic college boys who are dying to get in her pants. And those boys won’t be in any danger of me coming for them. Total win-win.

“Sir, Atty. Kingsley is here,” one of my assistants tells me on the intercom.

“Send him in.”

I’ve stopped coming to the office every day ever since Callie stepped into my life. What’s the point? I only hired the best, and I pay my employees enough that they can function well without me hovering over their shoulders.

This setup? It’s something I would never have considered a month ago. But Callie happened.

Like I said, my obsession caught me off guard, but now I’m living for it.

Three soft knocks on the door and a man in his late 40s comes in. Bernard Kingsley has been working for me for two years. Not the best of the bunch, but one of the most ruthless. He’s served me well, which is expected, especially since I pay him three times his previous salary.

From the neatly groomed salt-and-pepper hair to his muscular frame, he looks younger than he is. He knows it too because he walks around with an air of smugness and arrogance that almost rivals mine. Almost. The midnight blue suit paired with polished black oxford shoes is his “uniform”. Everyone knows he travels to Italy to have someone tailor it specifically for him.

He flashes me a million-watt smile, which I don’t return. His smile wobbles and he clears his throat, nervously fixing his tie.

“Sit down, Bernard.”

I don’t bother with pleasantries because it’s a waste of time. Leaning back on my leather chair, I cross my legs and regard him in silence.

Bernard sits opposite me and tries to look nonplussed, but the bead of sweat over his top lip says otherwise. Under normal circumstances, I’d stare him down and let him marinate in his own sweat, which is fairly easy for me to do given my reputation and size. Everyone shrinks and breaks in front of me. Everyone.

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