Marko’s hands do not leave my flesh as he presses me harder against his body.The deepness his hardness penetrates is unnerving, though the position bears a slight discomfort; I rock against him as he wishes; each thrusting motion against him causes the hardness of my nipples to graze deliciously against his chest, his lips caress my neck in the sweet sway that makes my eyes flutter shut so that I can focus on the sensations.As if I move too slow for him, Marko’s hands press against my buttocks, encouraging the roll of my hips.The position is too intimate to sustain, but more than that, wetness I can only hope is sweat, trickles down my face.I shut my eyes to keep them from spilling more tears and bury my head against his shoulder. Still, his tongue finds the back of my ear, sending irritatingly ecstatic sensations across my body that causes me to withdraw because all I long for is space to steady my emotions.His tongue finds the fresh tears trickling down my cheeks.My eyes open
Marko N. I."I know who it is."A familiar feminine voice startled him in the darkness of his room.The entire palace was in disarray, his father was in the hospital, and his mother had made herself scarce.Who knew the death of a second wife, who handled nothing in the castle beside his father’s bed, would cause such a commotion?It was a pity she was pregnant, but even if her life had not ended at the foot of the main entrance’s stairs, there would be no future for her in the royal line now that she had defiled the council's rule."Alba?"He called as he turned on the lights in his room.It was six a.m., and he hadn't slept in two days, thanks to the chaos in the Palace."I said I know who ordered the servant to push her down the stairs."Alba, for her youthful beauty, looked terrible.Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair unkempt, and her clothes had perhaps been on her body for two if not three, days.She was not well.After hurling her fists at him, blaming him for not keeping an eye
His eyes raked the letter Alba left behind again.‘Will arrive at the conference with Alpha Rhett-Alba’She lived with him, so why did she need to arrive at the conference with another man, especially one with a reputation as a manwhore.He couldn’t make sense of the note, and while the letter’s contents irked him, his hand scrunched it only to unravel it seconds later because he didn’t want to lose anything that had Alba’s mark.With his breakfast and morning routine complete, he made his way to the press conference venue, an area swarmed with more reporters than he wished to address. Yet even after settling in his seat, she had yet to arrive.‘I love you more’.His mind played her sound again, and rather than exciting him, the words elicited a stabbing pain in his chest.Christ, had he made a mistake? Should he have chosen her? But then, what would that mean for his image, for his mother?Choosing her would make him lose everything about himself, so…He took a deep soothing breath
Alba C.His eyes were wild, his shock gut-wrenching, but more than that was the pale state of the reporters in the hall at his commanding and uncontrolled emotions.I squelch the yearning to soothe him that builds within me, coupled with a maddening desire to stroke his flesh and whisper sweet apologetic words.Did he feel this way too, or am I still the only one that softens each time he shows me such expressions?Is it odd that I would rather him be furious with me than hurt?But again, only an idiot can fall for the same play twice.Marko’s shocked gaze trains on me, warning that he was about to lose his cool, a pity because I wanted to drag this out as long as I could. Still, at this rate, the reporters might collapse under his abilities that require emotional stability for adequate control.My legs find their strength, so I stand, wanting to distract the reporters from their discomfort."Any further questions?""C-can you prove your engagement?"A female reporter in a green suit
What…in high heaven is going on? Why does the Alpha sound as if he is ready to throw hands?"Okay!"I yell, interrupting the preposterous scene unfolding before me.Marko will not leave until he has said his peace plus…there is more we need to discuss.“Alpha, could you give us a few minutes?”Alpha Rhett’s frown makes me uneasy, but he nods.I can guess it is because he fears us together, especially in a public space like this, but he shouldn’t. I know better.“I will wait for you by the car; you asked me to drop you at the temple, right?”Marko’s grip on me tightens; any more pressure and I might not have a wrist.Still, am I having a stroke? Why would he say that? Why would he imply he knows the Lycan is my mate?“Right.”I utter quickly before Marko’s tug of my flesh grows more aggressive.His car is empty, neither his driver nor security in sight, as if he had ordered them to clear out earlier.“Does he know?”I am not surprised that this is his first question, even less that he
The ride to the temple was quiet, perhaps because the Alpha uttered nothing, which was fine with me because my stomach remained in knots and my bones still quivered. In my state, I could hold nothing, let alone a conversation.I did not regret my actions; the memory of him dashing after another woman when I stood before him keeps reaffirming my need to bolster his misery. At this point, it does not matter if he howls my name in pain; as long as it is my name on his lips, then I would gladly set his world on fire.But it is precisely these thoughts that terrify me; I do not want his life in my hands. I do not wish to bear the responsibility for anyone’s life.This rejection is a good idea, but I wish I could get Kaisa to agree on the same."Say I ask you to behave, to stop thinking of the king as intensely as you are now; how will you react?"Alpha Rhett asks for the first time since the drive began."I will ask you-”I stop to clear the coarseness in my throat before I continue.“I wi
Morning reached far slower than I thought it would; then again, tossing and turning only makes one accountable for every ticking second. The open dome-shaped room I am guided to after breakfast is spacious and devoid of excessive furnishings, merely two pillows on opposite sides of the altar at the centre. Light trickles in from the open roof. Typically moonlight pools in from the opening during mating rituals at night, but even light from the sun is enough for rejections. Marko enters the room with his father from the other door on the opposite side. He has on the same loose-fitting cream gown I do because, before the goddess, we must all present in humility, with no jewellery, makeup or fancy clothing. Yet even bare, he still manages to still my beating heart. In an instant, the turmoil inside me vanishes at the realisation that I still…want him, despite the pain he inflicts carelessly. I want to cry, wail, weep so the despair inside me at what I lose from this event lessens, b
Alba C I can smell the ocean from...here, but I cannot tell where ‘here’ is. I stand in an open-spaced living room made of brightly polished wood that reminds me of those commonly around the homes crafted on tropical islands. The humidity is a little annoying, but my body, as if accustomed to the home’s layout, reaches for the thermostat. "Mama!" A small yet loud voice calls from far away, melting my chest to a gooey degree; who knew there was such a title that could hold such power over me? "Yes, honey?" My response is again as automatic as my body knowing where the thermostat controller is. When no response follows, I move deeper into the house, past what looks like a kitchen to a little door that requires my bending for passage; there, the vast sea greets me with its strong breeze and scent of salt. The regret I feel is instant as I might miss the ‘mama’ call due to the loudness of the ocean. The sand burns as I walk barefoot through it, searching for any sign of life, when
And that’s a wrap. The book will be marked as complete soon; I hope you loved both stories, the bonus ( ̄y▽ ̄)╭ ohohoho….. and the main story. Now on the meat of the matter, my next work will be out in late June or Mid-July titled: The Alpha's Ruby Obsession (I think, but most likely.) It will be 18+, not just because of the smut but because it is a little darker than this one, discussing themes to do with suicidal ideations and consent-non-consent relations, but don’t worry, I will tag the concerning chapters. It can be read as a stand-alone, but there are benefits to reading this book first. Lastly, this concerns my other book: Your last lie—please do not purchase it until perhaps next year (Late next year); it was my first book and thus very clumsy, I want to work on it, and if you have it in your library, you can remove it and select it later, the changes should reflect. Thank you for reading and voting for ‘Bound to My Wicked Stepbrother’. I would love to hear more from you; whe
TRIGGER WARNING: CONSENT. The pounding in my head trembles my vision. Christ, I am never drinking again. My struggle to change my position and take advantage of the day is met with a familiar stiffness; only the rattling sounds binding me send my eyes wide open. An unfamiliar room, brightly lit with top wall windows that ensure I cannot see outside, but enough light enters that I can see thousands upon thousands of pictures of me lining the walls. Hah... what the hell? Panic sets in low in my belly as struggle finds my limbs. I do not wish to scream; who knows what I will alert, but the rattling of the cuffs binding my hands and feet to the bed must have awoken something because movement sounds from the other side, beyond the dark staired hallway. It would have been easy to sit upright had it only been my hands bound, but both my hands and feet were chained to the bed, holding me indecently in place and... My clothes are different. "You are up? Good, I brought you some food.
He isn’t coming. I repeat to myself as I splash some more warm water on my face. Ugh, what the hell was that sickly sweet champagne Magnolia guzzled down my throat in ‘celebration’? If she wants me to be drunk and embarrass myself, all she has to do is say that. A sigh escapes me at my tired expression in the bathroom mirror. My face is flushed, yet despite how tipsy I am, the hurt from seeing him arrive with his ‘ex-fiancée’ cut too deep to be blurred with liquor. Ever since the production ended, I woke up to sex dreams where Marko would bind me, trap me somewhere and have his way with me mercilessly. Of course, I would plead that he free me because, let’s face it, I would only plead that he does not touch me so that I could be regarded as sane. Because who in the hell would want to be bound and f*cked mercilessly by someone who all but regarded them as a slut? Guilt always devours me at the end of the vulgar dreams, I guess they are about to worsen now that he is with his ex-f
Marko "Cut”. The director's voice rang for what would be the last time, and applause followed. The moment was bittersweet, but the feel of Alba detaching from him as if he was plagued stung. "Alb-" "Don't...don't say anything, Marko. Let this end." "I don’t want-" "Don't want that?" Again, she interrupted him, finishing his sentence when he did not wish her to. "Marko, you called me a slut a few weeks ago, so let this 'slut' reform her ways, a safe distance from you.” “I never said you were a slut.” “No, you merely said that I spread my legs for anyone who gives me the time of day; if your argument is on semantics, try again." Alba uttered as she moved from him, but her dress, the same ivory gown that stole his chest as she walked down the Aisle, making him wish that for a moment the scene was real and she was his bride, made her curse as she moved. "God damn heels!" She muttered before leaving him...again. Should he manipulate her transport? No, she might not fall for
The ballroom echoed its commotion at Marko’s announcement of me as his future wife and Milos as his heir. I should cease wearing fitting gowns that limit my breathing during balls that I anticipate trouble. Still, his hand on my waist is more intense in this way, even as some show their distaste for our relationship vocally, despite our mention that we were mates chosen by the goddess. The tea party was brutal, but this, having to look in the eyes of hundreds of unsmiling faces as if our lives impacted them more than was appropriate, was a whole other thing. Despite all this, my proximity to Marko keeps me uncaring; but I cannot stop my chest’s clenching. Unlike me, he has cared how others viewed him since his youth, and he has always wanted to be a regal and dignified king framed by perfection. Am I not staining him? Please don't change your mind. Please want me still. Please- A tremble rocks through me at the thoughts chanting ceaselessly in my mind, so I step away from Mark
"Ahh...that hits the spot."Ruby utters as she places her pitcher of cider beer on the table with a thud. Without missing a beat, she turns to the table grill and turns the thinly sliced steaks before they burn.It was amusing watching her eat, actually more than amusing; I keep growing envious of her appetite.Still, how were the Clive illegitimate children treated for her to behave this similarly to Violet and me?While I like her playful maturity, we understand the scars that made us this way.After explaining my dream as the ‘sun’ to her (I am not sure if she believes me or thinks I am crazy), we settle and enjoy each other’s company at the eatery that offers each table a small grill and a wide selection of meats for one to fry up themselves if they do not wish for any item from the precooked menu.It took quite a bit of patience, but I finally finished the steak Violet made for me; it is hard to avoid eating when everything around me smells delicious; hell, even the smoke smelled
The woman’s voice holds remorse so deep that it stills me momentarily; it is only when tears stream down her face, ruining her perfect make-up, that I try my hardest to squat in the tightness of my dress and hold her in my arms, for God knows what reason.A feeling I had not felt since Red Graw dances in my chest."My Su-""I am sorry for the way it ended, my dearest misunderstood crimson moon."My lips utter with a voice that comes from deep within me before a smile tilts the corners of my lips upwards.Despite the smile playing on my face, a deep heaviness feels my chest.“It shall awaken soon; find your centre, my precious blood moon; only then will you find peace.” The moment her head slumps heavily on my shoulders, the ‘enchanted’ feeling dissipates from me before I feel her stiffen in my arms."Oh...oh, you must think I am insane."She whispers through my flesh before she peals away from me, hiding the crimson covering her face.“Help me up?”She asks her chauffeur, who assists
“That’s like saying I do not care for my skin.”The girl Violet converses with responds.“I am not responsible for how you choose to interpret my words.”Christ, Violet.I almost groan, but Georgia yells a question impolitely at me."Is that a ring? Are you engaged, priestess?" Silence follows the words; even the blonde, who almost responded to Violet’s taunt, turns her attention to me.“That’s right; you said you would discuss it inside,”Rebeca chimes.Hesitation echoes within me, I thought I would be amongst friends as I open up about this tender subject, but instead, I feel as if I am-"Yes, uh...I am getting married."I announce into the silence, and gasps follow from the majority of the lips but Rebecca’s."Oh! The Lycan King was carrying a baby in his arms in the papers, perhaps a week back. Was the baby yours? I mean, you did go missing for years after the whole Red Graw saga. Did they… I mean, is that why you are being removed from the royal line."Georgia asks; her brashnes
As opposed to an elegant parlour room, Rebecca escorts us outside to a greenhouse-like place that holds numerous colourful and bright plants that add to the bright aesthetic of the party, and despite being outside, the scent of pastries and tea hang deliciously in the air.My gaze turns to the nearby pond, and it is so clear that I can see my reflection in it, but more than that, I can see the tiredness in Rebecca’s build.I guess all the Clive relatives, regardless of association, had a tough time after Magnolia’s treason.The deeper we walk into the space, the more the sound of laughter and chatter calls to us only; it is not as inviting as she had once presented during the mate ball.“About Magnolia…”I begin, but she turns so suddenly on her track that I wind up trailing my words.“Oh, we are fine. Our relation is only from the maternal side.”What the hell is that supposed to mean?Does it matter from which side your cousins hail?“Anyway, I saw today’s papers; how are you holdin