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Chapter One-Thirty: Unholy
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Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter One-Thirty-One: Amicable
“But I shouldn’t feel this way if I am to be your mistress. In fact, I shouldn’t feel anything for you.” I utter, my hand moving to his chest. I do not know when he got this close that I can brush myself against him, or when the tension between us grew threatening. I do not even know when my eyes grew trained on the pink suppleness of his lips under the front garden lights. I do not know why he always stirs my deviancy. His scent is sharper now; I can feel it on the back of my throat despite us being outside with the cold wind blowing by. Yes, his scent’s dangerous effect on me should not excuse why my breakup with him has me pressing the sex between my thighs for relief. I want to pull him to me, to taste him, devour him; he is mine, damn it…I should be with him. especially now that I am more uncertain than ever; but then what? What lies after our next argument? Another national tragedy? Another attack or kidnapping strengthened by our inability to trust each other? What is
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Bonus #3: A little slow, is all.
“A party?” “Yap, for the end of the season of the production, Magnolia is hosting. You should come.” Janine utters as she removes the last set of jewellery from me. For a minute, my gaze on the dresser reminded me of the forcefulness Marko held me in. The delightful intensity of his silver eyes that held me in the mirror and the foul language that slipped from his lips as he buried himself inside me. A shudder escapes me at the memory. For a man who doesn’t talk much, he is a beast. My teeth find my lower lip as I press my centre harder on the chair, hoping to squelch the throb that came alive. We haven’t talked since then; we either had to film separately, or he had affairs to handle being an A-lister, of course. But if I go to the party then, we can talk and maybe even define this so that I do not have to hesitate to dial his number on my phone. How weird would it be if a one-time thing had the audacity to call from a number she had to get from the director? He is an A-lis
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter One-Thirty-Two: Fuller
"Hush hush, Milos."I whisper to the fussy bundle of warmth in my arms; he had begun fussing from the second I sprayed my perfume on; either he is allergic, or he understands that I am leaving the house.“Any sign of him settling?”Violet asks as she nears me with a bottle of milk warmed to room temperature.“No, not even a little. Should I stay?”Milos, as if understanding my question to Violet, opens his little hands as if trying to reach me and coos.A warmth melts in my chest before he offers a toothless grin at my ‘aww’.“See, he wants me to stay.”“How many of Marko’s events have you missed? Didn’t the league tell you how many of his men they caught trying to snoop around you? At this rate, he might find out about-”“I know, I know-”I respond with a quick eye roll.“Come on, gimmie Milos, before you change your mind.”Her arms reach for him, but I instinctively cradle him closer to my chest.The sound of the bell interrupts us.“That has to be Beatrice with George and Owen for
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter One-Thirty-Three: The Rest of My Life
The beating of my heart seems to halt.I cannot tell if my ears are ringing or if it is the effect of blood rushing from my head to settle in my gut.Where did he get the name from? Me in the car or elsewhere?My mouth moves to make an excuse, but none comes to mind. What does he know? How can I twist this?"I was playing around with the name in the car. It’s nice. Are you jealous I do not appreciate yours in the same way?""I'll answer that when you try again; perhaps this time, put some effort if you intend on lying to me."Shit."You've sent people to spy on me.”It is not a question I ask, but a statement that he smiles after."Not well trained enough to evade the league security, but even gutter rats have their way."Fuck, that's…not an answer.“Are you referring to yourself as, said gutter rat?”“The league is bigger than us, unimaginably so. I have received quite a few sanctions from my attempts to reach you; hence it has taken a year.”Marko pauses to gesture with his hand tha
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter One-Thirty-Four: Perhaps
The champagne smells lovely; I am still breastfeeding, so I cannot touch it no matter how badly my conversation with Marko makes me crave it; then again, even if it weren’t for my pregnancy, I probably wouldn’t be able to. So far, only home-cooked food, meaning those cooked by people I trust, work for me. Violet’s insistence on dining out leaves me eating the barest amount necessary to appease her, but progress is progress, she always insists. At least the nightmares ended, though, with Milos’s crying for the past months… let’s just say the shortage of sleep made going back to bed after a nightmare easy, so eventually, they occurred less. Now, all that remains is a sense of dread that creeps in when it is too quiet. Again, progress, yet I cannot place if it is indeed progress or if I am running too fast for any contrast to find me. The scent of lilies envelopes me as warm yet rough hands press my body. “Alba! It has been ages!” Lily utters in an exasperated breath. “Have…did y
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter One-Thirty-Five: Under the Sun
"Join you in the hall? I need to leave; there is an emergency. We can dance next time."I dismiss with ease, but he nears me."Next time when?"Marko asks with a smile as his hand grazes the paintings on his way to me."During your next...thing?""Oh...you won't have moved or fired half your staff by then? Are you certain that I will not get a response from the league saying you are halfway across the globe? Or on a diplomatic mission or task force somewhere?”He stills to turn his gaze to a silver polished vase shimmering beautifully under the bright chandelier lights. “‘Next time’ when Alba.""I can't...I can't do this right now.""Of course, you ‘can't’; running is, after all, what you do best, Alba.”His slow walk toward me resumes.I hate the way he punctuates his sentences with my name as if to stress his disappointment in me.Yet another feeling I do not need clogging me.“Another time, Marko. I need to-”“To what? to go? And then what? I spend another year and a half waiting
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter One-Thirty-Six: Because...
Marko "I don't..." Alba began, her breath warm against his frame. Her pulse raced wildly; he could feel it through the hand pressed between her breasts. A few more centimetres, either to the left or right, and he could reach the delicious stiff buds that were no doubt sensitised enough to have her moaning into his frame. Just a few more centimetres, and he could see it once more, her face desperate, brows lifted in wanton desire, and her mouth parted wide to let her soft moans escape. "Don't what?" He asked, burying his nose in her hair. Her scent had indeed changed to a softer, more soothing- "I do not want to play this love game with you, Marko. I don’t want to play with you anymore. I am tired of us." Her cold hand reached for his that had begun sliding toward the mound on the left to halt her words. Everything about where and how they stood was improper, but she was his. Her lusciousness was his to squeeze. Her softness his to desire. Everything about her was his.
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter One-Thirty-Seven: To Nothing
The world around him was dark…blue…. cold… terrifying… empty… void… pointless… pointless. Pointless. “Your majesty?” Everything was hideous; food tasted of nothing; music burned his ears with its blandness, and everything remained meaningless in his misery. “Your majesty?” He hated everything in his sight. The statues, the art, and the halls were all decorated beautifully, but they soured everything within him. Yes, he should burn everything down. "Your majesty!" He jolted at the familiar call before his eyes raced across the room to place his surroundings. Where...was he? "Your majesty, you have wandered far from your room." His butler, Marcus, uttered as he offered a shawl to him. His gaze dropped to his shirtless attire and pyjama bottoms before accepting the old man’s kindness. “Thank you.” In the darkness that enveloped the room, he placed it finally as the ancestral hall that held the statuses of great Ivanov Lycans. A sacred room. Yet now, most of the artworks
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