Hello, feel free to leave interactive comments or gems to share your thoughts and support the work. Thank you for reading.
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
“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,
“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
"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!"
"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.
He hasn’t moved, not yet. He merely pierced through me with his shaft and held his position as my entire slit wrapped around his flesh. For a moment, it feels as if my entire body has convulsed in ecstasy…and yet, my orgasm does not come; even with my toes curled and the floor beneath us wet with the spilt moisture from our potent arousal, nothing. My body maintains its needy high, which causes the burning sensation in my core that makes me crave more—more friction, more pleasure, more… His hips roll back, then swing into me again, and while a loud moan escapes me, I want him faster. Each time his shaft leaves me, the pressure in my lower abdomen lessens, and I anticipate his delightful fill inside me because his thrust grinds into something within me that threatens to buckle my knees. As if his neediness matched my own, his thrusts into me picked their pace without my request. With each rock of his hips, his constant grind of the special place magnified a bubbling sensation that
Alba’s cooling hands travelled down his back, dragging his shirt along, and when the buttons offered resistance, she pulled them apart, causing their sharp sound to fill the room as they scattered all over the floor. Her desperation was too exhilarating to miss, so he pealed from the kiss that tasted of wild berry and cream to stare at her. Breathtaking. The lust in her golden gaze took his breath away to a frightening degree. At his stillness, she unabashedly brushed the hard buds of her nipples against his chest in an attempt to soothe their ache. He had never felt his way before, as if he belonged inside her and she around him. As much as he wanted to admire the sight before him, he wanted to bury his shaft so deep into her flesh that he'd forget who he was, their position, and their adversities. '…don’t think. I am yours' Her words rang in his mind. Mine. Mine. Mine. My mate. “Mine.” She nodded. Christ, he hadn’t even realised that he was practically chanting the wor
Hello! I did not receive any complaints, so I plan on continuing these bonuses, periodically, with no warning. Since the support for them is high, if you do not like them or they pull you out of the story, please skip them. Again, this chapter has nothing to do with the main story; consider it a parallel universe; it is an extra, hence free. Quick disclaimer this chapter bears a dubious consent trigger warning. As always, thank you for reading and for your continued support! Undercover_Ostritch (Ostrich Ostrich) ** "Cut, great take!" The director yells. They sound different from usual, but that could be the blood rushing in my ears. Pulling my body up from the counter is hard, but the worst is meeting Marko’s hard cock tucked in his boxers, with my centre as I lift; thank heavens for the apron and nude panties to keep me from overexposing myself. My rectification of the apron, to keep his gaze from my chest, is quick, not like he hasn’t seen them before, but since the trail
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