My Step Brothers I

Ariel

I’ve always had a slut kink.

I wanted to be manhandled, pulled, slapped, and fucked in every hole.

But by who?

That was the problem.

I wanted someone strong enough to handle me and someone I was attracted to at the same time.

I looked at the clock on my nightstand and it felt like it was mocking me.

It had been exactly ten minutes since I’d swallowed the "special" tea I’d bought from that underground shop, and only two minutes since my boyfriend, Mark, had shattered my pride over the phone.

"I think we should have an open relationship, Ari," he’d said, his voice flat. Mark, the man who treated sex like a scheduled chore and peaked at the eight-second mark wanted variety?

Interesting

"Fine," I hissed, my skin already beginning to prickle with an unnatural, heavy heat. "Go find your variety. I'm going to find mine."

I slammed the phone down, my breath coming in ragged hitches. The house was quiet, but it wasn't empty.

Down the hall were the three reasons I never felt truly comfortable in my own skin: my stepbrothers.

Dante, Jax, and Kael.

They were towering, obsidian-skinned forces of nature.

Every time they walked past me in the kitchen, living room or the corridors, their broad, jacked shoulders seemed to swallow all the oxygen in the room—and in me.

They had spent years mocking me, teasing me relentlessly, acting like I was just a nuisance. I’d always told myself I hated them for it, but the way my heart hammered when Dante’s dark eyes tracked my movement or when Jax hands brushed mine or when Kael spoke to me told a different story.

Stockholm’s syndrome maybe?

I didn’t know what it was but I knew I wanted them, all three of them or one of them. I’d take anyone I could get.

I looked at my reflection, my pupils blown wide from the aphrodisiac. I wondered if the rumors were true. If the raw power they carried in those ripped frames translated to the power below their belts

Dante and Jax had girlfriends. But Kael, the youngest and the one with the sharpest tongue, was currently alone in his room.

I knew he didn’t like me— none of them did. But my body wasn’t asking who liked me or who didn’t, it was asking for me to be pounded by any of them and starting with the brother with no girlfriend was the right choice.

The fire in my veins burned away my common sense. I wasn't the "clean" girl Mark wanted anymore. I was a mess of unspent desire and spite.

I marched to the bathroom, stripping off my boring "girlfriend" clothes. I slid into a set of emerald lace that was little more than a suggestion and threw a sheer silk robe over it.

I didn't go to the kitchen. I went straight to Kael’s door and knocked.

When it swung open, Kael was shirtless. His dark skin glistened under his LED lights, his muscles looking like they’d been carved out of granite.

He looked up at me, a familiar sneer tugging at his lips. "What do you want, Little Bit? Come to complain about your boring boyfriend again?"

I didn't flinch. I leaned against the doorframe, letting the robe slip just enough to reveal the lace beneath. "Actually, I need your opinion," I purred, my eyes tracing the jagged line of his V-taper. "I’ve been practicing my routine for the pole showcase, and I need to know if my... form... is correct. Come with me."

I was a pole dancer, or at least training to be one

Kael’s eyes darkened, the mockery dying instantly. He didn't say a word, but the way his chest rose and fell told me he was hooked.

He followed me into my room, the heavy thud of his footsteps behind me making my knees weak.

He stood at the doorway, before I turned on the music.

I walked to the brass pole in the center of the room, let the robe pool at my feet, revealing my lace outfit and gripped the cold metal.

As the bass of the music kicked in, I didn't just dance. I showed him exactly what he’d been missing.

The music was a low, thrumming bass that vibrated right through the floorboards and into the soles of my feet.

I didn't look at Kael at first. I kept my eyes on my own reflection in the vanity mirror, watching the way the emerald lace hugged my curves and how the aphrodisiac made my skin flush a deep, inviting pink.

I swung around the pole, making sure to arch my back, letting my hair sweep across the floor, knowing exactly how short the thong I was wearing was and how little it left to his imagination.

I could feel his eyes. They weren't just watching; they were burning into me.

When I finally risked a glance at him, Kael wasn't leaning against the door anymore. He was sitting on the edge of my bed, his large, calloused hands gripped white-knuckled on his knees. His jaw was set so tight I thought it might crack. The "Little Bit" he liked to mock was gone; in her place was someone who had him paralyzed.

"Is my form okay, Kael?" I whispered, my voice thick with a want I couldn't hide. "Or should I go lower?"

I dropped into a slow, controlled split at the base of the pole, grinding my hips upward in time with the beat.

That was it. That was the snap.

Kael lunged off the bed so fast I didn't have time to breathe. Before I could scramble up, his massive hand shot out, his fingers locking around the brass pole just inches above my head. He hovered over me, a literal wall of dark, corded muscle that made me feel tiny and completely trapped.

"What are you doing?" he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that shook my chest. The mockery was gone, replaced by a raw, predatory hunger. "You think you can just drag me in here and put on a show after I've spent years trying to ignore what you do to me?"

I did something to him?

"I don't know what you mean," I teased, though my heart was threatening to beat out of my ribs. I reached up, my small hand trembling as I pressed it against his bare, tensing pec.

His heart was slamming just as hard as mine. "You're always so mean to me, Kael. I thought you hated me."

He let out a harsh, jagged laugh, leaning down until his nose brushed against mine. I could smell the woodsmoke and mint on his breath, mixed with the scent of his own rising heat.

"I hated that I couldn't touch you," he hissed, his eyes dropping to my mouth. "I hated that Mark had his hands on you when he didn't have a damn clue what to do with a girl like you. I hate that we are related.”

His words came out in slow raged breaths

I pushed even away from the pole, leaning onto him until our lips brushed against each other. “But Mark isn't here now, is he?"

Kael inhaled deeply the minute those words came out of my mouth

His other hand came up, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw before sliding down to my throat, not squeezing, but asserting a terrifyingly beautiful dominance.

"You want my opinion on your moves?" He leaned in, his lips hovering a fraction of an inch from my ear. "Get on the bed. And I'll show you exactly what I think."