A Night of Pleasure with My Stepbrother

3

Caleb scanned me from head to toe, his gaze lingering on my pale face. "Well, well," Caleb murmured with a smile that made my stomach churn. "So this is the big surprise you were talking about, Dad."

"Caleb?" The name left my lips like a broken whisper.

Everything clicked. Thomas Russo, Caleb Russo. How on earth had it not occurred to me?

He approached, completely ignoring that only a few hours ago he had betrayed me on a university desk. He stopped a yard away from me, radiating that toxic Russo confidence.

"Hi, Harper. It’s a small world, isn't it?" he said, relishing my emotional collapse.

For a moment, I thought the world was playing a cruel joke on me.

Caleb was no longer wearing his university clothes; he wore a black shirt with the top buttons undone, revealing the hard tension of his muscles.

He gave a mocking smile, scanning me from head to toe with a laugh that radiated pure cynicism.

"I see you already know each other," Thomas said, either oblivious or perhaps pleased by the electric tension threatening to shatter the hall. "Harper, Elena, let me formally introduce you to my younger son, Caleb."

Thomas placed a hand on Caleb’s shoulder, smiling with pride.

"He is your new stepbrother. From today on, you will live under this roof as one family."

The silence that followed was absolute. I could hear the heavy ticking of a grandfather clock somewhere in the hall, marking the seconds of my new sentence. Caleb watched me with a thinly veiled lust, while my fists clenched with a force that even I couldn't bear.

Caleb let out a low chuckle. He took a couple of steps toward me, extending his arms. He leaned in slightly and kissed my cheek cordially.

But before pulling away, he whispered in my ear: "Who would’ve thought, Harper. You went from being my secret girlfriend to my legal stepsister in one afternoon. I guess we’ll have much more time to reconcile now."

My mother smiled, oblivious to it all, delighted by the idea of family unity. I, on the other hand, felt as if the marble beneath my feet were opening up to swallow me whole.

I was trapped. At the university, I could run from him; I could hide in the library or my apartment. But here, in the Russo Mansion, there was no escape.

I fled from Caleb’s laughter, feeling the walls of the mansion closing in on me until I could barely breathe. My lungs burned and my feet, still moving by inertia, carried me out into the garden, the night air hitting my face like a slap.

Why? Why was this happening to me?

I walked with my vision blurred, cursing my luck, when my feet tripped over a protruding root. I closed my eyes, bracing for the impact, but a pair of massive arms intercepted me mid-air with a force that wrenched the gasp trapped in my throat right out of me.

The impact against his chest was like slamming into a granite wall. A large, calloused hand dug into my waist, pinning me to his body with a possessiveness that left me breathless. His scent enveloped me instantly: expensive tobacco, mint, and a dark masculinity that made my skin crawl.

"So, you’re this clumsy, little mouse?"

The world stopped. My heart gave such a violent lurch it hurt against my ribs.

That voice.

That damn raspy voice I felt vibrating against my own back... I would recognize it in hell itself.

It was him.

The stranger from the bar.

The man who had tasted me, inch by inch, on silk sheets just a few hours ago.

"Please, let it not be him..." I pleaded in a useless thought, my body trembling in his hands.

"It’s strange to see you so sober… and so nervous," his voice dropped an octave, becoming an erotic murmur that licked at my skin. His long fingers grazed my ear, brushing away a strand of hair with a slowness that made me burn with shame

Damn it. He had recognized me.

"W-what are you doing here?" I managed to articulate, though my tongue felt heavy from the shock.

"Well… this is my house. It would be weird if I weren't here," he replied with a self-assurance that chilled my blood.

He spun me around with a roughness that forced me to face those frigid eyes. Under the moonlight, his pupils were dilated, devouring me.

"You live here? Are you a Russo?" Panic tightened around my throat.

"Did you forget my name that fast? You moaned it enough last night while you were writhing under me." His smile was slow and predatory, loaded with a cynicism that made me wish the marble floor would swallow me whole. "Demian Russo, the heir. A pleasure, little sister."

He took my hand and pressed his lips against my knuckles, never breaking eye contact. I felt an electric shock travel straight to my womb—a betrayal from my own body that still remembered his touch.

"So, you’re the daughter of the woman who crawled into my father’s bed to empty his bank account," he hissed with venom, his fingers squeezing my waist until my skin yielded under his strength. "My father said he’d be bringing in a stray… but I never imagined she’d be my best fuck."

I tried to push him away, but his arms were made of steel. His chest radiated a heat that suffocated me.

"Last night you were begging me not to stop... and today..." his nose grazed my temple, inhaling my scent like a hungry animal. "Today you want to run from me?"

Humiliation scorched my face. He released me with an almost imperceptible shove, but it was loaded with contempt, forcing me to stumble back.

"Though, if you want, we can set a rate for the coming nights," he added, his eyes traveling over my curves with a gaze that made me feel naked and filthy. "Don’t worry about the check, I’ll sign it. You just fill in the amount."

"I am not an object!" I shouted at him, my voice trembling with fury and fear.

"Everyone has a price, little mouse. And you already proved to me how easy it is to buy you with a little alcohol and spite."

He walked toward the mansion, intentionally bumping his shoulder against mine to knock me off balance. He paused for a moment and turned back, a shadow of malice dancing in his eyes.

"By the way. My room is right across from yours. And the lock is broken. Don't even bother fixing it; I like my toys to be within reach. Sweet dreams, little sister."

His words pierced my mind like needles. I went to my room and slammed the door. The lock really was broken. I wrapped myself in the sheets, seeking protection, until I heard the screech of the door opening.

Click.

The doorknob turned slowly. The wood groaned under the pressure of someone trying to enter from the outside.

I caught my breath, staring as the door began to give, inch by inch.

Shit! s**t!