The Stepbully She Craves

Chapter 4

“Yes. I was your brother. It was my job to protect you …and your virginity.”

I hated him more. For years, I’d doubted myself. I thought I was ugly or that I wasn’t worthy of male attention. Finding out it was Josh’s fault only made me want to punch him in the throat. I missed homecoming and prom. I spent so much time alone at home.

“I hate you for this.”

Standing up from his chair, he rounded the table and grabbed my arms to pull me up from my chair. “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t hate me. I couldn’t have handled knowing you were with someone else. You’ve been mine since the moment I broke your heart. I didn’t want to do that, but again, you were too young.” Gripping my chin, he leaned over to kiss me softly on the lips, his chest pushing against mine until I was seated on the edge of the table. He pulled away and locked his eyes to mine, “But now you’re not. I can’t wait any longer.”

His mouth landed on mine, taking control of my lips with a powerful dominance that stole the breath from my lungs. His hands moved to pull down the straps of my dress, the material riding dangerously low on my breasts. His palm smoothed up my chest to wrap around my neck, his other hand gripping my hair from behind to pull my head back as he kissed me. I was taken by complete surprise, heat pooling between my legs instantly because of the urgency and prowess of his kiss.

I’d dreamed of this moment when I was younger, and I’d hated myself for thinking of him as I grew older and touching myself imagining what it would feel like if it was his hand. Now, I hated myself because I couldn’t resist him – even after years of living in his shadow.

“Come upstairs with me, Bailey.” He whispered in my ear.

I trembled to feel his breath on my skin, “But we haven’t eaten our food,” I argued weakly.

“I don’t care.” Picking me up, he continued kissing me as he walked out of

the dining room and through the living room, his feet powering us up the stairs. He carried me like I weighed nothing, moving quickly down the hall to his bedroom. Kicking the door open, he released my mouth long enough for me to look into the room and see candles lit and rose petals covering the sheets of his bed. I gasped.

“Is this for me?” I asked.

He kissed my cheek softly, heat behind the blue of his eyes. “It’s your first time. I wanted to make sure it was done right.”

Laying me on the bed, he slowly looked over my body, his tongue peeking out to lick along his bottom lip. His hand grabbed a remote control from his dresser and when he pressed the button, soft, sensuous music filled the room.

Tossing the remote back down, he looked at me and said, “Tell me yes, Bailey. Before I make you mine, you have to tell me yes.”

“I’m so confused,” I admitted. Although my mind couldn’t wrap itself around what was happening, my body was gearing up for what he wanted to do. My breasts heaved beneath my dress, my thighs clenching together as his eyes stared down at my breasts. My dress barely covered them, the top swells busting out above the material.

When his eyes locked to mine again, his voice was gritty with lust when he asked, “Yes or no, Bailey? Yes, and I make you scream. No, and I walk away now, never giving this a chance again.”

“It’s all so fast,” I continued to argue, but I already knew what I was going to say. There was no denying how I felt about him, my heart and body wanted what my mind thought I could never have. How would we do this? Was it even possible to make people understand that we weren’t truly siblings, we were just stuck living together that way because our parents had gotten married?

“Give me your answer, Bailey,” he said with a deep, seductive voice.