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My new stepbrother!
So you’re the charity case.
You wouldn’t survive the lesson.
Dante walked in.
I’m not a babysitter!
They’re going to think I’m fucking you.
This new guy was just... kind!
You’re really going to flirt with someone else in front of me?
I dare you!
You say that like you didn’t beg me to kiss you with your eyes.
Library. Now. Come alone.
Then why do I dream about choking the breath out of any guy who touches you?
How do you stop wanting your own stepbrother?
I saw what you wrote for me!
Hey, stepsis!
I slapped him.
Don’t pretend your body didn’t beg for more.
And then—his mouth crashed into mine.
Don’t pretend you didn’t love every second of my hands on you.
Dante’s stepsister. God, what a slut!
You’re embarrassing to be seen with.
He kissed her in the hallway and now he’s ignoring her. Classic Dante.
Touch him again, and next time, I’ll pour bleach in that pathetic little mouth of yours.
Did I say you could touch me?
Whatever I want.
His touch was what finally shattered my composure.
You can either strip it off, or I will!
You don’t get to touch her again. Not you. Not anyone.
Telling them all you’re mine!
You didn’t have to do that!
I shouldn’t have kissed you.
One more touch and I’ll ruin her. Completely. Beyond repair. Beyond recognition.
The hunger in me roared, a primal, untamed beast.
I kissed her. Hard. Possessive. Starving.
You want to stop me?
My hands roamed her wet skin, tracing the delicate curve of her waist, then gripping her hips, holding her impossibly close.
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One more touch and I’ll ruin her. Completely. Beyond repair. Beyond recognition.
Dante’s POV
The door slammed. A final, definitive sound that echoed through the quiet house, settling the oppressive silence around me. Her door. Her room. Our house. A house I barely considered my own, a place of polite fictions and forced normalcy. Yet, the girl now behind that closed door, t...
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