Two Days Of Temptations

Lila woke up aching in places she didn’t want to name. The silk sheets felt too soft against her bruised hips and the tender skin between her thighs. Every time she shifted, she remembered the slap of skin, Ronan’s filthy words, the way he’d filled her so completely she’d screamed his name like a prayer and a curse.

*Never again.*

She repeated it like a mantra while showering, while dressing in a conservative cream blouse and high-waisted skirt that hid the faint fingerprints on her hips. She spent the day locked in her room, sketching furiously—dark, stormy pieces that looked suspiciously like a certain grey-eyed devil. When the staff knocked for dinner, her stomach twisted.

The formal dining room glowed under the chandelier. Victor sat at the head like a king, Elena beside him radiating new-money satisfaction. Ronan lounged across from Lila’s assigned seat, black shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms. His piercing gaze tracked her from the moment she entered.

“Glad you could join us, Lila,” Victor said smoothly. “We’re trying to make this family thing work.”

Lila forced a smile and sat. The air felt thick. Ronan’s foot brushed hers under the table—deliberate. She jerked away, cheeks heating.

Dinner began with polite conversation, but tension hummed beneath every word. Elena chatted about the upcoming business merger that would expand the Sterling empire. Victor mentioned “some loose ends” in the accounts that needed cleaning before regulators came sniffing around. Lila’s ears perked up. Loose ends? Her mother had always been vague about how quickly she’d landed Victor.

Ronan’s expression stayed cool, but his jaw tightened. He knew more than he was letting on—that much was clear.

Halfway through the main course, Elena set down her wine glass with a beaming smile.

“We actually have exciting news,” she announced. “Victor and I are taking the yacht out for a quick two-day trip tomorrow. Just the two of us. A little honeymoon before the merger madness really starts.”

Victor nodded, patting Elena’s hand. “The staff will be here, of course, but the house will be quiet. Ronan, you’ll keep an eye on things? Make sure Lila settles in properly?”

Ronan’s lips curved into that slow, arrogant smirk that made Lila’s pulse race. His grey eyes locked on hers across the candles. “Absolutely. We’ll be just fine. Won’t we… *stepsister*?”

The word dripped with dark promise. Lila’s fork scraped loudly against her plate.

Elena turned to her expectantly. “Lila, sweetheart? You two will get along while we’re gone, right? No fighting. We need to present a united front for the family image.”

Lila’s throat felt tight. Two days. Alone in this massive mansion with the man who had fucked her senseless less than twenty-four hours ago. “Of course,” she managed, voice steadier than she felt. “We’ll behave.”

Ronan’s smirk deepened, his foot pressing against hers again under the table—this time pinning it. Heat crawled up her leg.

The rest of dinner dragged. Victor droned on about corporate expansions and “old associates causing minor headaches.” Something in his tone made Lila’s skin crawl—her mother’s nervous laugh only confirmed it. Secrets. There were always secrets in families like this.

When the parents finally excused themselves to finalize travel plans and pack, the dining room felt suddenly too small. Staff cleared plates quietly and disappeared.

Ronan rose slowly and rounded the table. Lila stood too, backing up until her thighs hit the sideboard. He caged her in with his powerful arms, body heat wrapping around her like a drug.

“Two days,” he murmured, voice low and rough. His fingers traced the collar of her blouse, dipping inside to brush the swell of her breast. “Two whole days here alone with you. No parents watching. No excuses. You can’t run. You can’t hide from this.”

Lila’s breath hitched. Her nipples tightened traitorously. “Last night was a mistake, Ronan. A stupid, reckless mistake. We’re stepsiblings. Your father and my mother—”

He cut her off with a bruising kiss, tongue invading, claiming. One hand slid down to cup her ass through her skirt, pulling her against the hard ridge of his erection. The other slipped under her blouse, thumb circling her nipple until she whimpered into his mouth.

When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with obsession. “You can lie to them about the perfect family. You can lie to yourself about how much you hated every second of my cock inside you.” His hand moved lower, palming her through her skirt, rubbing slow, firm circles over her clit. “But your body knows the truth. You’re already wet again, aren’t you?”

Lila bit her lip hard to stifle a moan, hips rocking once against his hand before she caught herself. “Someone could walk in—”

“Let them see.” He nipped her jaw, then her neck, sucking a mark just below her ear. “Let them see exactly who owns this pussy now.”

He kissed her again, deeper, while his fingers worked her through her clothes until her knees trembled and she was grinding shamelessly against his hand. Just as she neared the edge, he stopped and stepped back, leaving her flushed and throbbing.

“Two days, Lila,” he said, voice husky. “I’m going to fuck you on every surface in this house. In the library where we first lost control. In my bed. On my desk. And by the end of it, you’ll be begging your stepbrother to ruin you again.”

He adjusted himself blatantly and walked toward the stairs, leaving her gripping the sideboard, breathing hard.

Later that night, alone in her room, Lila stared at the ceiling. The faint bruises on her hips throbbed in reminder. Her phone buzzed—an unknown number with a single message: *We need to talk about your mother’s involvement in the Sterling accounts. Soon.*

Her stomach dropped. Plot. Secrets. Danger.

Down the hall, Ronan poured himself whiskey, staring out at the dark ocean. The investigation into his father’s fraud was heating up. And now Lila was under his roof—temptation and complication wrapped in one addictive package.

Two days alone.

He was going to make every second count.