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Chapter Seventeen: Sunshine & Rainbows
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Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter Eighteen: Ah…Right.
Alpha Rhett’s control is waning, but he does seem like himself, like my state does not alter his reasoning. "With me, priestess, you must be firm." His thumb strokes my lower lip, and before he leans in, I press the palm of my hand to his lips, blocking the kiss he instigates. “I ca-.” I try to utter that it would be wrong of me to mislead him, but his hands circle my waist, and he tosses me in the air; wholly unprepared for the act, a slight squeal leaves my lips. On setting me to my feet, his hand rubs my back soothingly as I try to compose myself. “You crazy-!” I utter, with a punch to his stomach, but the curse I intended halts in my throat at his mischievous laugh. There is no awkwardness in my rejection; in fact, it is as if its existence is my imagination. “Thank you.” I whisper breathily; while my body still sears, the haze that typically dominates lifted at his jolting toss. His hands are still on my waist, and while their heat feels uncomfortable, I do not wish to
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter Nineteen: Fattening
I want the Lycan to finish what he so rudely started, to defile me as he promised, but the turn of his face towards the hall while I stand before him, dripping in arousal, cuts deeper than my need to fit his length inside me. The pain searing through my chest emphasises the pathetic way I feel about my body's deceit. His incite of my arousal publicly was mortifying, but my yearning for his touch, my press of my breasts to his lips, and my fingers in his hair afterwards make me loathe myself....so, must I also let him tell me that he would rather be elsewhere? Must I let him emphasise how laughable I behave under his name? "Formalities dictate that you must head back; it is not a good look for his majesty to miss a formal event planned in the castle.” I utter to excuse him; when I phrase it like that, it seems as if he has no choice, right? As if it is beyond his powers to leave me, even if I am certain it is his preference. "Ten minutes." He utters before pulling away from me and
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter Twenty: Flashes
The document in hand read Chelsea shore: a coastal port known for constant oil spills by the rig at its heart; though the province is among the leading distributors of oil, the constant spills render it unfit for living; hence the once thriving merchant state remains reduced to a quiet coastal town for paupers and ruling middle class whom all work for the oil production in varying levels. At least, that is the letter’s summary. I have gone over it thrice in the helicopter that had yet to depart, and each time I did, the knots in my stomach only grew. How can I purify such a large area when merely a spring made me faint? I am grateful that the opportunity takes me away from the Lycan and the castle; it was growing hard to avoid him anyway, but what if I fail? The entire event is a publicity stunt to appease the kingdom, but…I have never intentionally trained for such a purpose. ‘It’s fine; I will guide you.’ Kaisa insists; this is her eighth time saying that. While I believe he
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter Twenty-One: None Left
Marko N. I 'Return princess turns miraculous priestess; a tale of forbidden love.' Again, Marko’s gaze strayed to the heading’s subtitle. Return princess who discarded her title to be a priestess finds mate amid late-night purification rituals in the Chelsea slums.' "Scandal on her first mission! God, we should have sent more men to keep her still." An elder uttered furiously. "Doesn't she understand that such behaviour can spark a war?" Another responded. But again, his eyes strayed to the title. "But...are they really mates?" Elder Brenda asked. "If they are, we must consider a collaboration of sorts; you know how stupidly bound people behave if they are forced apart." "They are not mates." The answer came with more steadiness than he felt; for a second, he had not even realised that his voice rang across the room, silencing all commotion. "Can your majesty say that with certainty?” Elder Brenda responded. “I know she is your sister, but with the history between the t
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter Twenty-Two: Power Play
The press conference was a disaster; when I failed to answer their last question, chaos ensued, as more questions I could not answer about the old queen and my mother were thrown my way. I froze because the alternative would be leaving the building, my fight or flight responses never favour fighting, or perhaps it is that I do not value the people enough to feel the need to come up with excuses. The goddess should have chosen a kinder soul to bless with such abilities. All in all, the Lycan King had to step in with the announcement of me being a potential Luna to the twenty-something Alphas in the territory following his command, so in a sense, he told them that I would be bound here. When more questions arose, he gave generic, non-committal answers; he controls the Ketrian media to some extent anyway, so damage would be minimised. Still, the king felt different today; he treated me like his subordinate rather than mate or hated stepsister. However, following the scandal, I may hav
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter Twenty-Three: Deal
My hand lifts the length of my dress to hide the Lycan’s hand; shoving it away will make its presence more pronounced, so I am forced to raise the garment inappropriately as a diversion. It does the job because the waiter turns his gaze sharply and politely in preference to root for the utensil blindly. After he finally gets it, he offers a slight but awkward bow and dashes off, not even asking if I need a replacement. Great, I all but flashed the waiter because of the Lycan’s inappropriateness. "What the hell does his majesty think he is doing? We are in-" "Marko." He responds, cutting me off. His darkening gaze holds my own warningly. "I cannot address you in such an intimate fashion when you returned to your partner last week-" "I had no choice." "Yes, because you are the king. It is not that you had no choice, but you were determined to make the right one because your people depend on you. So, your majesty, continue to make those ‘right’ choices and pull your hand out of
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter Twenty-Four: Poor Mr Skippy
The Lycan's Hotel room was fancier than mine, go figure, but I hardly had enough time to gawk at it or even sip the fancy complimentary champagne."Strip."I want to protest at the unfairness of his opening words, but I do as he says, only slowly.I tug each strap with a teasing slowness from each shoulder before reaching for the zipper on my side; he does not protest, merely watches me.His silver eyes darken sinisterly as the dress pools to my feet, leaving me only in jewellery, heels and panties, everything he bought for me."Alba.""Yes,"I answer breathily as his hand strokes the gem on my chest.The whole room holds his scent, yet there is clarity in my haze, unlike the first time his mere presence induced it— as if it is slowly stabilising.I don’t want its stabilisation because what excuse will I use to feel this way in his presence? To give into my desire for him?There is a chill in the room from the air conditioning, or perhaps it is his gaze that erupts goosebumps from my
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter Twenty-Five: Might Just
“You can’t anymore?” Marko repeats my words as he slides from the mattress to stand and fiddle with the remaining toys as if prepping to use them. “But your body can react to others; that is why you kissed another man, isn’t it?” In the dream, he talked of running; it is different, yet some elements are the same. “Isn’t it only right for me to desensitise your lewd body? Let’s see, how many men have excited you beside me?’ I say nothing, not out of my will, but I cannot bring any words to my lips because I am wholly occupied with the spasms still firing periodically inside me. “Not going to answer? Fine Then maybe I can use a different criterion. Let’s see, you ran away from the castle, from your guardian—from me.” The intensity of his tone keeps rising as if he is rediscovering his anger, but his words’ familiarity is what grabs my attention. “Wait, wait…” I plead, but it comes off as a whisper. Don’t say it; please don’t- “For eighteen ho-” “One person.” I yell to halt h
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