6: Obliterating My World

STEPHAN

She obliterated my world.

Brooks-Dalton did. Three weeks ago, I didn't know she existed, but then, two weeks ago, I walked into that private diner, and the sight of her took my breath away.

Dressed in that blue gown that clung to her body like a second skin, hair tied into a ponytail with a face so ethereal my heart ceased, and a pair of lips that looked like they were made to be wrapped around a cock. My cock.

The attraction I felt towards her was so deep that it was unbelievable and unnatural. And for the whole of the dinner, I couldn't tear my eyes off her; I couldn't get her scent out of my system. She smelt so addictive, like vanilla and sex and sin. It was unbearable. She came into my life like a tsunami, and she wove something even more potent than a mate bond over my head.

Just one encounter and she already had that much control over me. An ordinary she-wolf, daughter to a woman who's marrying my lunatic of a father to get money without knowing what she's getting herself into, she brought me to my knees with her face alone.

Like my father had always said, I was an embarrassment of an alpha to allow that feeling to take over me like that.

And for the rest of the week, I threw myself into work and into fucking as much as I could to get myself off the mountain of attraction I felt for her. It worked, or I thought it did, until she moved in, and her scent, the erotic sweetness of it, took over the entire castle.

It was too much to handle. Watching her dance and cheer with her mother in that short white dress was too much to bear. All I wanted was to push her against the wall and fuck her till she was a sobbing, quivering mess.

I survived the wedding, but I didn't survive the next day when I couldn't control my legs, and I found myself in her room, which wasn't my old study at all. I just wanted… I wanted something to explain this madness because it was really madness for a need to be intense. It has to be some voodoo spell, some black magic that has reduced me to this state over some mere gamma.

That was the excuse I gave myself when I found myself in her room. I was looking for the evidence of the black magic she had woven on me, so I looked through her drawers and her closets, basked in her scent, and stopped dead when I opened the drawer that housed her underwear. My cock twitched to life at the sight of the carefully arranged triangled clothing in different colors. I wanted to close it then. I tried to walk away, but my hand seemed to have a mind of its own, and I picked one up. I stared at it in fascination with my cock and mouth jealous of where it had touched.

That was when I smelt her, and instead of returning it to where I picked it from, I hastily shoved it into my pocket like a hormonal 13-year-old taking the panties of the first girl he ever hooked up with.

That was another reason why I hated the existence of Brooks-Dalton, who had reduced me to this ridiculous state.

I knew she was following me the minute she started following me, and not calling her out was because I wanted to see how she'd react. The reaction I wanted to see nearly became my undoing. The smell of her arousal was too damning. I came inside Ella. I've never done that before, and the girl, pleased at the sight of that, had giggled so hard that she finally made me cream.

Now, I watched Brooks walk away with a tent in my pants and the fucking irresistible urge to bend her over my desk and fuck her into oblivion.

My dick hardened more, and I had to flatten my palm over it with the hope that it'd go away.

I was still thinking with my dick in my head when my phone vibrated, and I was grateful for the interruption until I saw who it was.

Venita Castle.

Seeing her name left a bitter taste in my mouth. I allowed the phone to ring out twice before picking it up the third time.

“Hey babe,” she sounded as cheery as ever.

“Hi.”

“Having a nice Monday?”

I scoffed silently, “Yeah, I'm in the middle of a meeting, so if you called…”

“What time are you picking me up for the meeting?”

I frowned and racked my brain for the meeting she was talking about, but I found nothing.

“What meeting?”

“The meeting with the French guys. It's tonight.”

I nodded. It had completely escaped from my mind. It was her business idea that she had forced me to participate in, and the French guys wanted to invest in it. It was a romantic resort in Paris that would be opened after our wedding and our gift to the world.

“Of course. 8 pm, right? I’ll pick you up by 7.”

“Okay baby, love y….”

I cut the call before she could complete the statement. Venita Castle was the daughter of Alpha Castle, and he was inarguably the second most powerful alpha after Dad.

Venita Castle was also my fiancée and the woman I'd marry in a few months. She was everything a rational man should want: bold, beautiful, high status, intelligent, made it to a couple of business magazines, and has been named one of the hottest women alive since she was 18.

That was my fiancé and here I was, spotting a boner for a nameless omega who was my stepsister.