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Chapter Ninety-Seven: Christ
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Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter Ninety-Eight: Everything {II}
"We can go home." Rhett offers. "No, no, I can go; you should stay. I think you are getting more done than I am." "I am not leaving you alone. We stay, or we go, together." His words sound sweet, but they only confirm that he doesn't trust me. I don't trust myself either, so this may be for the best. "Then we stay: I think they need me to purify something, right?" I turn to pose my question to the worker who is still eavesdropping on us. "Ah! Yes, there was a rupture in the pipes caused by water pressure." “Show me.” I utter, then detach my hand from Rhett to follow the man. After aiding him, more tasks awaited me...all of which I performed subpar because nothing in me was present. Still, the day ended, and without work to distract me during our drive home, my mind once again began to stray. It did not help that it was raining, a miracle and cause for celebration due to our efforts here, but all it does is increase my gloom. Still, I have to wait till the end of the week f
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter Ninety-Nine: Unfair
An eerie agony filled him when he woke up alone in the car. It was stupid that he expected her to be there.He had fallen asleep with a sense of joy his mother had warned about, awakening to the emptiness in his arms and in an instant, his joy was reduced to an illusion.Yet again, she left him.Yet again, he woke up alone when he was certain he had her.He had gotten nothing, not even a note on her departure—only an announcement from Magnolia two days later that she had decided to visit Mist with her fiancé to work on a project whose end was predicted in a decade; he couldn’t even summon her back to the capital because her arrival had been presented with rainfall that had been journaled by the news team as ‘miraculous’.She would always leave him whenever he turned away from her, he realised belatedly. Even his dreams were punctuated by her absence.His days grew heavier and duller the more she thrived in Mist. He lived on her image in the newspaper and their six-month promise. He wo
Bound to my Wicked Stepbrother Chapter One Hundred: Hug
A knock on the car window was all it took to jolt me. How long have I been holding him? How long had it been since we reached the palace? It is night now; the driver and security personnel have been long dismissed, all before he fell asleep on my chest. My gaze turns to the window: Magnolia stands on the other side in eveningwear. The position we are in is not in the least bit excusable, yet detaching myself from him seems impossible; his grip around my waist tightens the more I squirm. “Marko, you have to let go now.” I whisper, but he doesn’t budge. My peel from him is more forceful than it should be; still, I manage to slide out of the car. My shirt is wet from his tears. The chill of the night as his warmth escapes me emphasises this. “Sorry, he isn’t awake yet-.” “I’ll take it from here, priestess. I feel you have done enough. Do you know that you both are on every media outlet in the kingdom?” “I am his stepsister; I should be able to be photographed near him.” “Are
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.
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