Chapter Three: Storm and Sin

Aurelia 

His hands gripped my bare waist, his long fingers digging into my damp skin with bruising force, as if he’d meant to shove me away but couldn’t quite bring himself to let go.

Water still clung to my body from the interrupted shower; droplets traced slow paths down my collarbone, over the curve of my breasts, disappearing beneath the press of his chest. 

I was completely exposed, the towel tangled uselessly somewhere beneath us, and the shock of it burned hotter than any embarrassment I’d ever felt.

His dark hair was tousled, falling into those storm-grey eyes that were locked on mine with predatory intensity. 

His breath came in sharp, uneven bursts against my lips. The heat rolling off him was overwhelming, chasing away the chill of the storm and replacing it with something far more dangerous.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

His gaze dropped, slowly and hungrily, raking over my naked chest, my parted thighs, the way his leg pressed intimately against me. 

When his eyes flicked back to mine, the hatred was still there, sharp and vicious, but it was tangled now with raw, undeniable hunger. 

His jaw clenched so tight I could hear the grind of his teeth.

“Get off me,” I whispered, but my voice came out breathless, trembling. 

My hands shoved at his chest, broad, hard, and scorching hot beneath the thin fabric of his black t-shirt, but he didn’t budge.

Instead, his grip on my waist tightened, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin just below my ribs in a way that felt less like restraint and more like possession.

“You’re in my house,” he growled, voice low and rough, vibrating through me where our bodies touched. “Naked. And on my floor. Begging to be fucked, Little Lamb?”

The crude words hit like a slap, igniting fury and something darker, something that made my hips shift involuntarily against his thigh. 

A spark of treacherous heat flared low in my belly, and I hated myself for it.

I arched up, trying to push him away, but the movement only brought my breasts flush against his chest, my nipples hardening at the friction. 

A low, involuntary sound escaped my throat.

His eyes darkened impossibly further, pupils blown wide. 

One hand slid up my side, stopping just beneath the swell of my breast, close enough that his knuckles grazed the underside, sending a jolt straight through me.

“Careful,” he murmured, his full sensuous lips brushing the shell of my ear as thunder rolled again outside. “Keep moving like that, and I won’t be gentle.”

His hips rocked forward once, letting me feel exactly how hard he already was.

My breath caught, a helpless gasp that betrayed me completely.

And in that moment, pinned beneath my worst enemy, naked and shaking with a mix of terror and want I couldn’t name, I realized the real danger wasn’t the storm raging outside.

It was the one he’d just unleashed between us.

His mouth hovered a fraction from mine, his fierce eyes burning with promise and threat.

“I hate you, I hate you with every fibre of my being.” he said in a throaty whisper, his hot breath fanning my face.

“I hate you thrice as much. I hate you with my body and soul.” I told him without flinching.

His eyes burned with a feral intensity that both warmed and chilled me, and then the lights flickered once more, plunging us back into darkness just as his lips crashed against mine. 

Oh. My. God. Chase tasted like whiskey, sin and danger mixed together.

Then, without warning, he broke the kiss and moved away from me like I'd burned him.

“Go to your room now, little lamb, or I'll devour you to pieces.”

I didn't need to be told. It was too dark to start trying to cover myself up. I ran with the towel tangled around my legs to my room. I wrenched the door open, got in and locked it behind him.

Chase Hunter kissed me. My new stepbrother. I shouldn't have gone out into the hallway. I shouldn't have kissed him back. 

I was supposed to hate him. He'd made my life a living nightmare in school, and he'd threatened to continue from where he stopped. That was enough reason to hate him.

The next morning, I was picking at my breakfast when my mother decided to ruin what was left of my appetite.

“Aurelia, Chase will be driving you to campus today for your registration and orientation tour,” she announced, all casual, like she was commenting on the weather instead of sentencing me to hell.

My fork clattered against the plate. “What?”

“You heard me.” She didn’t even glance up from her phone. “It’ll be good for you two to bond.”

Bond. Right. Like gluing dynamite to a lit match.

“I have the campus map on my phone,” I said, forcing my voice steady even though my pulse was already spiking. “And I definitely don’t need a babysitter. Especially not him.”

She opened her mouth, probably to threaten me with the safe and my documents again, but right then Chase and Darlington strolled into the dining room like they owned the air itself. Which, technically, they kind of did.

“Speak of the devil,” I muttered.

My mother shot me a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

“Chase, darling,” she cooed, switching to full Stepford-wife mode, “I was just telling Aurelia you’d be kind enough to drive her to campus and show her around.”

Chase froze mid-step, his grey eyes snapping to me like I’d personally offended him by existing.

His jaw tightened, and for a second I thought he might actually refuse.

But Darlington just chuckled, clapping his son on the shoulder. “Of course he will. Family helps family.”

Family. The word tasted like bile.

I shoved my chair back and stood. “I’ll be leaving now.”

“Aurelia,” my mother warned through gritted teeth, “be a good girl and greet your daddy properly.”

I sucked in a slow breath, turned to Darlington with the fakest smile I could muster, and said in the sweetest, most sarcastic tone, “Good morning, Daddy Dearest. Hope you slept well on all that inherited money.”

Then I turned on my heel and stormed out before anyone could stop me.

My face was still burning when I hit the kitchen. I yanked open the massive Sub-Zero fridge, bending down to grab my water bottle from the bottom shelf. 

The cold air kissed my bare legs (ugh, stupid short sundress, but it was hot as hell outside) and I was so focused on not screaming that I didn’t hear him come in.

Not until his hard body pressed against me from behind.

One second I was alone, the next Chase was there, chest to my back, hips pinning mine against the open fridge door. 

The sudden heat of him made every inch of my skin ignite. His hand slid around my waist, fingers splaying possessively over my stomach, pulling me tighter against him while his other hand curled lightly around my throat from behind.

I froze, water bottle forgotten, breath trapped in my lungs.

His lips brushed the shell of my ear, his voice low and dangerous, dripping with venom and something darker. “What silly little game are you and your gold-digging mother playing, Little Lamb?”

I tried to twist away, but his grip only tightened, my waist locked in his iron grip, my throat held in a warning squeeze that made my pulse thunder against his palm.

“I know all about it,” he growled, breath hot against my neck. “How she fluttered her lashes and got my father to pay your tuition. How she’s sinking her claws into our money, one bill at a time. You think we’re that easy? You think you can waltz in here, play innocent, and bleed us dry?”

His fingers flexed around my throat, not choking, just reminding me how easily he could. The pressure sent a reckless shiver racing down my spine, pooling low and treacherous between my thighs.

“You’re both the same,” he whispered, lips grazing my skin. “Greedy. Desperate. But you?” 

His hand on my waist slid lower, thumb tracing the edge of my dress hem, teasing the bare skin of my thigh. “You’re worse. Prancing around my house half-naked, begging for attention with that tight little body.”

I swallowed hard, the movement pressing my throat harder into his grip. “Let go of me.”

He laughed huskily. “Oh, I will. For now. But listen close, Little Lamb.” His hips rolled forward once, letting me feel every hard inch of him pressed against my ass. “Step out of line, just once, and I’ll devour you. Piece by fucking piece. I’ll ruin you so completely you’ll feel me for weeks.”

Little did he know that I was already ruined.