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Chapter One Hundred: Hug
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Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter One-Zero-One: Everything is Fine
It is easy to step into Marko’s wide embrace; again, he makes me forget myself—forget that underneath my shirt, I am nude. His hold on me throbs my centre, but he maintains his strong arms on my waist, causing the shirt to lift slightly. The Ketrian anthem plays in my mind on repeat. I shouldn’t be this aroused after what I did in his shower, yet…I can’t help it. It works; the arousal stops when he sinks his face into my stomach; only something more tender that beats my heart ferociously takes over. I shouldn't feel this way, but it is perhaps because I have never seen him cry this much. Not even when his mother passed; then, he was just outraged. As heartbreaking as it is not to have the answers he craves or to account for my mother's existence, I adore that he still leans on me and that I have a part to play as his solace. I am not a sadist...at least, I don't think so. I am merely greedy. My mate found comfort in my arms. Though...can I still call him that? Marko leans ba
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter One-Zero-Two: Fiancée
“What the hell was that?" I begin, my hands planted on my waist in a show of disapproval once we enter a private room away from the spring gloom and prying eyes. He doesn’t meet my gaze, so I call his attention. "Rhett, what was that?" "Do you want to end this?" His question is the same as the one he asked in my office. Then, I had no answer. But this time, I do. "Yes." He takes in a rugged breath. "I was emotional in the car-" "I know. I know, Rhett, and before you leap to your conclusions, I am not saying, ‘I want to end this’ because of Marko.” He snorts before his pacing from one end of the empty but furnished tearoom to the other picks up. “You may not believe me, but it’s true. Rhett, being with you means understanding your fear of your father, and my marrying you means accepting it, and I don’t feel comfortable doing that.” “I am not asking you to find comfort in my decisions but to honour your promise!” “How can I do that when-” I bite my lip to quell my outburst,
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter One-Zero-Three: Strangers
“Insult? I haven’t insulted you?” I utter, trying my best to step away from him; only the feel of the car against my back offers very little reassurance. His aftershave melds perfectly with his cologne. I hate how easily my body reacts to him, even without his actual scent to haze me, though if I kiss him, I might- “No, you have only insulted the woman I love. And I choose to take that personally.” He responds. Christ, what a smooth tongue. “Stay, Alba. I am asking you this as your stepbrother.” Stepbrother? What a joke! Even as he voices his request, his eyes are glued to my lips, as if seconds away from kissing me, only he wouldn’t. I know. The parking venue has too many eyes. "I can’t, Marko...” I whisper, my gaze also on his lips. Am I…leaning into him? At the realisation, I lean further away from him and towards Violet’s car. “Uh! Violet, yes, Violet! She drove for hours to pick me up, so I’ll stay with her throughout the day. It wouldn’t be fair to drag her around w
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter One-Zero-Four: Dare
"Strangers..." He repeats as a scary feeling takes over his aura. A slow, rich laugh escapes him as he undoes his tie roughly. I squelch the throb of my core because despite the sensation asking me to run, he looks sexy, especially as he tosses the tie to the living room couch, and it slides to the floor. "What are you doing?" I ask as he approaches me; his pace is too fast for him to be eager for my sauce. "I'm thinking..." "Thinking?" I repeat, unable to form another thought as an eagerness to escape his field of view claims me. "Father, mother, even my stepmother, are all dead.” He utters as he removes his black coat and scarf, yet again tossing the two on the couch. “I am the only Ivanov remaining, and you…you made me that by walking away from this, from me. You keep finding new ways to run from me; frankly, I am tired!” "Oh, ‘you’re tired’? Marko, you don't give me a choice! You never give me a choice; running from you is easy because being in love with you is agony!"
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter One-Zero-Five: Tomorrow
"This is coercion, Marko." I utter, stifling the desire to rub myself against his knee. Thankfully, he rubs my flesh for me, alternating between rubbing and pressing; only his pace is too slow for any hint of a climax. "I might as well, right? If I tell you 'I love you', you don't believe it, so what other choice are you leaving me with? Alba, do you even understand my desperation? Huh?” I do not answer; I cannot; my mind feels foggy. “...if you leave me one more time, I might just-" A breathy moan escapes me when his mouth widens to capture my nape. He doesn't add any force or pressure, but a burst of mint and eucalyptus floods my nostrils; for their cooling effect, my body only seems to burn. My nipples develop an itchy ache that isn't soothed by his rough hands’ massage; in fact, I desire to rub them against any rough surface or, instead, his mouth. He could place my buds in his mouth…nibble them, and swirl them with his tongue while thrusting himself inside me. “That’s it.
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter One-Zero-Six: Lost
He hasn’t moved, not yet. He merely pierced through me with his shaft and held his position as my entire slit wrapped around his flesh. For a moment, it feels as if my entire body has convulsed in ecstasy…and yet, my orgasm does not come; even with my toes curled and the floor beneath us wet with the spilt moisture from our potent arousal, nothing. My body maintains its needy high, which causes the burning sensation in my core that makes me crave more—more friction, more pleasure, more… His hips roll back, then swing into me again, and while a loud moan escapes me, I want him faster. Each time his shaft leaves me, the pressure in my lower abdomen lessens, and I anticipate his delightful fill inside me because his thrust grinds into something within me that threatens to buckle my knees. As if his neediness matched my own, his thrusts into me picked their pace without my request. With each rock of his hips, his constant grind of the special place magnified a bubbling sensation that
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter One-Zero-Seven: Stable
Alba’s cooling hands travelled down his back, dragging his shirt along, and when the buttons offered resistance, she pulled them apart, causing their sharp sound to fill the room as they scattered all over the floor. Her desperation was too exhilarating to miss, so he pealed from the kiss that tasted of wild berry and cream to stare at her. Breathtaking. The lust in her golden gaze took his breath away to a frightening degree. At his stillness, she unabashedly brushed the hard buds of her nipples against his chest in an attempt to soothe their ache. He had never felt his way before, as if he belonged inside her and she around him. As much as he wanted to admire the sight before him, he wanted to bury his shaft so deep into her flesh that he'd forget who he was, their position, and their adversities. '…don’t think. I am yours' Her words rang in his mind. Mine. Mine. Mine. My mate. “Mine.” She nodded. Christ, he hadn’t even realised that he was practically chanting the wor
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Bonus #2: Why do you think?
Hello! I did not receive any complaints, so I plan on continuing these bonuses, periodically, with no warning. Since the support for them is high, if you do not like them or they pull you out of the story, please skip them. Again, this chapter has nothing to do with the main story; consider it a parallel universe; it is an extra, hence free. Quick disclaimer this chapter bears a dubious consent trigger warning. As always, thank you for reading and for your continued support! Undercover_Ostritch (Ostrich Ostrich) ** "Cut, great take!" The director yells. They sound different from usual, but that could be the blood rushing in my ears. Pulling my body up from the counter is hard, but the worst is meeting Marko’s hard cock tucked in his boxers, with my centre as I lift; thank heavens for the apron and nude panties to keep me from overexposing myself. My rectification of the apron, to keep his gaze from my chest, is quick, not like he hasn’t seen them before, but since the trail
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