PLAYING WITH FIRE: My Obsessed StepBrother

chapter 4

Chapter 4

I woke up the next morning with my body still humming from Ethan’s touch. My thighs felt weak, and a faint, delicious ache between my legs reminded me exactly where his fingers had been—deep, rough, and possessive. I stretched under the silk sheets, my n*****s tightening at the memory of his growl against my neck and the way he had licked my wetness from his fingers like a starving man.

God, what had I started?

The mansion was quiet, sunlight streaming through the tall windows of my room. I rolled onto my stomach, pressing my face into the pillow as fresh heat pooled low in my belly. Last night in that hallway had been everything I had hoped for and more. The way his control had snapped, the raw possession in his voice when he claimed I was his… it scared me a little. But mostly, it made me feel alive. Wanted. Everyone thought we could never make peace. If only they knew how badly he wanted to ruin me.

I slipped out of bed and walked to the bathroom, catching my reflection in the mirror. There it was—a small, dark hickey just below my collarbone. It would be easy to hide with the right top, but visible enough to remind me. I traced it with my fingertip, shivering. Part of me wanted to wear it proudly, to see the flicker in his eyes when he noticed I hadn’t covered it. But the game still required silence.

I chose a soft cream sweater that dipped just enough at the neckline and a pair of high-waisted jeans that hugged my curves. Casual, but still tempting.

Downstairs, the dining room smelled of fresh coffee and pastries. Elena was already at the table, flipping through a magazine, while my father read the newspaper. Ethan sat at the far end, scrolling through his phone with a clenched jaw. He didn’t look up when I entered.

“Morning, everyone,” I said softly, taking my usual seat across from him. “Sleep well?”

Elena smiled warmly. “Like a baby. What about you, dear? Is your project wrapping up yet?”

“Mostly,” I replied, reaching for the coffee pot. Under the table, my foot brushed deliberately against Ethan’s leg. He jerked away as if burned, his eyes finally snapping to mine—stormy as ever. There was no trace of the man who had fingered me senseless the night before. Just cold distance.

“Ethan?” I asked sweetly. “You look tired. Rough night?”

His grip tightened on his mug. “I’ve been busy with work,” he muttered, his voice flat. He avoided my face after that, staring intently at his phone. The denial stung a little, but it only fueled the fire. He was retreating, rebuilding his walls. That meant I needed to push harder.

Breakfast continued with polite conversation. I laughed at Elena’s stories about the upcoming charity gala, leaning forward just enough for my sweater to shift. Ethan’s eyes flicked over once, lingering on the line of my cleavage, before he snapped them away. He excused himself abruptly before finishing his food, muttering something about a meeting.

I watched him leave, my gaze tracing that broad back straining under his shirt. The avoidance was almost cute. As if ignoring me could erase what had happened.

After helping clear the table, I went back to my room and picked up my phone. It was time to turn up the heat. I messaged Jake, a tall, flirty friend from my London days who was always up for a good time—no strings, just fun. Perfect.

“Hey stranger, you back in town? Craving a real night out. Dinner this week?” I added a recent selfie—lips slightly parted—and hit send.

His reply came faster than expected. “Sophia, hell yes. Name the place. I’ve missed that smile.”

I smiled to myself, heart racing. Let Ethan find out. Let him stew in that irrational jealousy he tried so hard to hide.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. I unpacked more boxes, arranged my design sketches on the desk, and tried to focus on work emails, but my mind kept drifting back to the hallway. The way Ethan’s fingers had stretched me, curling perfectly against that spot until I saw stars. I had come so hard I’d bitten his shoulder, and then he had simply walked away, leaving me slick and desperate for more.

By early afternoon, the ache had become unbearable. I locked my bedroom door—though part of me wished I hadn’t—and lay back on the bed. I unbuttoned my jeans and slid my hand inside my lace panties. I was already embarrassingly wet. My fingers circled my c**t slowly, teasingly, just like the night before when I knew he might be watching.

“Ethan…” I whispered into the empty room, imagining his rough growl telling me I was his. I dipped two fingers inside myself, mimicking the way he had f****d me—deep and relentless. My hips rocked up to meet my hand as pleasure built quickly, sharp and needy. I pictured him bursting through the door, pinning me down, and replacing my fingers with his thick c**k.

I was so close when I heard it—a faint creak in the hallway outside my room. Heavy footsteps. My breath hitched. Was he there again? Watching through the gap under the door or those hidden cameras I suspected he had? The thought pushed me over the edge. I came with a muffled moan, thighs trembling, biting my lip to stay quiet as waves of pleasure crashed through me. I rode it out slowly, imagining his eyes on me the entire time.

Afterward, I lay there catching my breath, a satisfied smile on my lips. I cleaned up quickly and changed into something fresher. When I stepped into the hallway, it was empty. But I could still feel the weight of his stare—whether from the security room or just around the corner.

I headed downstairs for a glass of water and found him in the kitchen, his back turned as he poured a drink. His shoulders tensed the moment I entered.

“Still avoiding me, big brother?” I asked softly, leaning against the counter beside him. Close enough to smell his cologne. Close enough to see the faint bite mark I’d left on his shoulder.

He set the glass down hard. “What happened last night was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

The words were cold, but his eyes betrayed him—dark and hungry, flicking to my lips. I stepped closer until my breasts brushed his arm.

“Liar,” I whispered. “You loved it. You loved how wet I got for you… how I came all over your fingers while calling you big brother.”

His hand shot out, gripping my hip for a split second before he released me like I was fire. “Stay away from me, Sophia. And stop inviting random men into this house.”

I laughed lightly. “Jealous again? Jake wants to take me out soon. Maybe I’ll wear that short black dress.”

His jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might crack. For a moment, I thought he would snap right there—push me against the counter and finish what we started. But Elena’s voice called from the other room, breaking the spell.

Ethan brushed past me, his body heat searing even through our clothes. “Be careful what you wish for,” he muttered.

I stood there, pulse racing, a fresh wave of desire crashing over me. His denial only made it sweeter. His obsession ran too deep, and I was far from done testing it.

I pulled out my phone and replied to Jake, confirming dinner for tomorrow night.

Let the game continue.