Possessive Stepbrother – Steamy Shorts Read Online Lena Little

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Kink Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 13239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 66(@200wpm)___ 53(@250wpm)___ 44(@300wpm)
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“Raven, my god!”

That snaps me out of it. I take slow, deliberate steps, holding my breath and hoping to make a quick, quiet exit.

I’m almost to the door when I fail to notice a table, and my foot grazes its leg. The paperweight resting on the edge tumbles to the hardwood floor with a sharp clink, but it’s enough to grab Rowan’s attention.

He swings his head to the source of the sound, his piercing gaze landing on me. His eyes bulge out of its sockets, his mouth hanging open.

Before he can say another word, I make a mad dash to my bedroom and lock it, leaning against the door and sliding to the floor, hands flying to my mouth.

I know what he was doing. I know, and my god, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Without even touching myself, I’m 100% sure my panties are soaked.

3

ROWAN

I swing the hammer downward, putting more force than necessary.

It’s supposed to be a rest day, but here I am in one of my construction sites, working like my next meal depends on it. The warm afternoon sun is beating down on me as I stand with nothing but my denim jeans on, sweat trickling down my brow and spine.

My hand clutches the wooden handle, and I swing again and again. Even after the nail’s already flush with the wood, I continue to strike it with the hammerhead, trying to relieve the tension within me.

Tension that hasn’t left ever since she saw me last night.

Fuck. What was I thinking? I should’ve stopped thinking about driving myself inside her. Stopped reaching into the waistband of my sweatpants. Stopped my fingers from brushing my cock. Stopped imagining her pussy tightening around me.

Jesus Christ.

She must have been horrified. I followed her when she bolted, but when I heard the lock click, I didn’t dare knock. I couldn’t. I didn’t trust myself anymore.

I didn’t know if I could stand still without touching her, without trying to mark her as mine and bind her to me.

No.

She’s off-limits.

She’s my stepsister, and she’s way too young for me. Just so many reasons to stay away. Maybe she’s already packing her bags right now. That’s probably for the best.

It almost makes me laugh out loud. Try again, fucker.

She is off-limits. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna let her leave. No fucking way. She stays in my home. With me. It’s the safest place for her. Safe from the serial killers and loonies. Maybe…maybe not safe from me.

My body aches when I finally get home, my muscles begging for relief. Taking off my heavy, dusty work boots, I slide them into the shoe rack by the door and massage the back of my neck.

I have no idea what I’m going to find on the other side but fuck it.

I push open the door and step inside, half-expecting her standing with her duffle bag by her feet. But what I’m seeing is worse. A lot worse.

Raven is perched on the sofa, her back stooped while she slips on her red high heels. My eyes travel up the length of her legs all the way to her thick thighs, thighs that I already imagine choking the breath out of me or constricting my waist.

Something lodges in my throat, and I’m arrested by her sight. In the space of twenty-four hours, I’ve gone from thinking of throwing her out to wanting to stitch her to my side.

But I bite back a snarl of possession when I realize what I’m looking at.

She’s wearing something that leaves little to the imagination. A short, fitting white dress with a red cross on the bodice. Thigh-high white stockings are held up by red garters. The skirt barely covers her glorious ass, and her tits look like they’re about to spill over.

After fastening the strap securely around her ankle, she stands up, grabs a red headband with a nurse’s cap, and slides it behind her ear.

She’s heard me come in, but she’s ignoring me like I don’t even exist. Meanwhile, I’m struggling to keep my blood in my head when it seems to want nothing but to rush down south.

My stiff rod is straining against the zipper of my pants, making it almost painful to stand here and do nothing, and my pulse is hammering in my throat.

No way she’s leaving the house dressed in this. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Raven doesn’t even spare me a glance. She busies herself tucking a small, black tube into her purse. “Halloween party.”

“You already have friends here?”

“Uhm, yeah. Met this girl back home last year. She’s my friend’s cousin, and she lives here. She messaged me about a party at her house.”

“So you’re basically going to a stranger’s house?”

She raises a brow and lifts the corner of her mouth. “No. I just told you. She’s my friend’s cousin.”



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