Chapter Seven

ADRIANA CHEN

His gaze alone was enough to send my pulse spiraling. The sting from my stumble faded almost instantly as I watched him loosen his tie with slow, deliberate movements. His fingers worked the knot lazily, as though he had all the time in the world.

"Want to play the good wife role, Sunshine?" he asked.

Or maybe it wasn't a question at all.

I pushed myself upright.

"What if I am?" I shot back. "What's your problem?"

A dry chuckle escaped him.

"You still have no idea what you've done by coming here."

A chill crawled down my spine. My breath caught as he turned toward the door.

Click.

The lock slid into place. I froze. His eyes found mine again. Then he started walking toward me. One step, then another. My heart hammered violently against my ribs.

"What are you planning to do to me?" I asked, taking a cautious step backward.

His smile widened.

"A lot of things, Sunshine," he murmured. Another step. "A lot of things."

His gaze swept over me, sharp and possessive enough to make my stomach tighten.

"I'm just deciding where to begin." The smile that followed was utterly wild. Without breaking eye contact, he tossed the key across the room. “Should I start by fucking that mouth of yours or should I just go for that slut juicy pussy of yours.”

I gasped despite myself, fragments of the wet dream flashing through my mind before I could stop them. The memory lingered like a stubbornly, blurring the line between reality and imagination. One moment I was standing there, trying to regain my composure, and the next I found myself trapped against the wall. The movement had been so swift that I barely registered it. When my senses finally caught up, he was already standing in front of me, his presence overwhelming, his eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that made it difficult to breathe.

“You don't seem surprised,” he said, his voice low. “Or maybe you've been thinking about me just as much as I have.”

I shoved against his chest, determined to create some distance between us, but he caught my wrist before I could move away. His grip wasn't painful, yet it was firm enough to make his point. I shot him a glare, refusing to let him see the uncertainty building inside me.

“I am a married woman,” I snapped. “I'm married to your brother—”

“Stepbrother.”

The correction came immediately. He leaned closer, his gaze never leaving mine.

“Then tell me something,” he murmured. “Did you ever mention what you saw that day?”

A nervous laugh escaped me before I could stop it. Deflection felt safer than answering honestly.

“It was disgusting,” I said. “How exactly was I supposed to explain that? Your brother wouldn't want to hear that his own stepbrother was jerking from staring at my picture.”

A dry laugh left him, sharp and mocking.

“Disgusting?” he repeated. “And yet you stayed. You could have walked away, but you didn't. You stood there and watched everything.”

Heat crawled up my neck.

He took another step forward, forcing me to hold my ground.

“Tell me something else,” he continued quietly. “Did you dream about me?”

The question struck harder than it should have. I remained silent. Unfortunately, silence was answer enough. The images I had spent days trying to bury returned all at once, vivid and impossible to ignore. My heartbeat betrayed me, quickening beneath his watchful gaze. His expression shifted into something triumphant.

“I thought so.”

“No.”

The denial came too quickly.

“No?”

His eyebrow lifted.

I hated how calm he sounded and hell I hated how certain he looked.

“I did not dream about you.”

The words left my mouth with more force than conviction. Without waiting for his response, I slipped past him and headed for the door. I only managed a few steps before he caught my arm and pulled me back. My breath hitched as I collided with the wall again, his presence surrounding me before I could escape. Every instinct told me to push him away, to fight, to remind myself of every reason this was wrong.

Yet the more I tried to steady my thoughts, the more impossible it became beneath the weight of his stare.

“Keep lying to yourself if you want,” he said quietly. “But don't lie to me.”

His voice carried an unsettling certainty. My pulse thundered in my ears. And the worst part was that I couldn't decide whether I wanted him to let me go—or whether I was afraid of what would happen if he did.

His hands began undoing me, tracing across my thighs, under my dress as he leaned closer. The jolts of emotion sprawling all over my body from the sensation of his touch was weakening me.

“I can see it!” he whispered into my ears, “The craving in your eyes!” his lips brushed my ear, “You don’t need gentle love sister-in-law! You need an eruption!”

A sudden sharp spank on my ass made me whimper, a restrained whimper.

“You don’t need softness, you need absolute dominance, my brother can’t deliver that but I can and I will.”

Slap!

“I will fuck you so hard Sunshine! So fucking hard that you will forget everything and only remember the distraction my cock left inside that already dripping cunt! That mouth will ache from the size of my cock!”

He pulled me forward and before I could register, his lips claimed me in a brutal hunger, his hand pinning mine above my head while the other arched me closer to him. He claimed my lips over and over, the bottom then the top in a ferocious rhythm that devoured every curve, sucking and nipping with a hunger that bordered on madness.

 His tongue swept in to trace the full lining of my lower lip, savoring the trembling edge before plunging deeper to stroke along the roof of my mouth, exploring every sensitive ridge and hollow.

 I gasped into the kiss but he swallowed the sound, his teeth grazing the plump swell of my upper lip next, tugging gently then releasing only to press in again, lips sealing hot and wet over mine in a series of deep, lingering pulls that left them swollen and glistening.

Each shift of his mouth sent fresh sparks racing through me, his breath mingling with mine in ragged bursts, the wet slide of tongues tangling and retreating only to dive back in with renewed force. I tried to restrain it but the moans came crushing out, my pussy throbbing at the sensation, the pleasure building over my body, rewriting any other emotion over and over. Fuck, he was such a great kisser, drawing it out until time blurred and all that existed was the relentless press of his mouth, the way he angled my head for deeper access, tongue fucking in slow, commanding thrusts that mimicked what his cock would soon do, leaving me dizzy and drenched.

I am truly fucking fucked. I am about to get fucked by my brother-in-law when I should be fighting to save my husband future from this monster claiming me.