Chapter 4

Elena's pov 

What I was thinking was wicked, depraved, shocking.

But I wanted his kisses, his touch. I wanted his lovemaking more than I 'd ever wanted anything, more than life or anything else. I had never been denied anything I wanted so desperately. It was wrong, but no one would ever have to know.

I took a step in the dark and walked straight into a wall of solid, warm muscle.

Adrain.

My hands caught his shoulders on instinct, steadying him, his voice sharp with an edge that might’ve called me back to my senses. 

"Sophie? Thank God you're here, you don't know how much I want-"

I didn't let him finish.

I don't know if it was my desperation, or Sophie's voice still screaming in my skull, or three goddamn years of pretending I didn't want exactly this, but I fisted both hands in his shirt and kissed him.

His mouth crashed into mine and my brain just fucking died.

Every instinct screamed wrong, wrong, this is so goddamn wrong, and I grabbed his arms to shove him off, some rational sliver of my brain still functioning enough to register that he was drugged.

"Adrain."

He didn't stop. He leaned harder into me, and his sleeve slipped, exposing his bare chest in the dim light, and every sensible thought in my skull died on the spot.

"He's your stepbrother," some desperate part of my brain reminded me, the part I was actively trying to strangle. "He's Sophie's boyfriend. Your best friend's man. You're about to put your hands all over your best friend's man, you absolute piece of shit."

I told that voice to go fuck off.

I'd thought about this. God help me, I'd thought about this more times than I'd ever admit out loud.

I'd imagined how he must have looked naked, and I'd practically envisioned myself touching his huge, hard erection. 

I'd hated myself for thinking such lustful thoughts about my own brother every single time. Turns out hating myself wasn't going to stop me tonight either.

I kissed him back hard, dragging him against me, his mouth finding the curve of my throat, and he made a sound that turned me on and sent sparks flying. I'd never felt such sparks before.

"babe," he breathed, fingers already working the buttons of my shirt, tearing it open when they didn't move fast enough.

His palms landed against my bare breast and I groaned before I could stop myself from losing control and every shred of common sense.

For a split second, common sense won and I thought about how my mother would literally burn me alive if she ever found out I'd fucked my step brother. 

God! What kind of person am I? I mean, there're stages to being an asshole but this? This was rock bottom.

My brain wasn't done scolding me, but it was too late. 

"Tell me what you want," I growled against his chest, half to drown the voice out.

"You," he whispered, dizzy and slurred and painfully honest. 

His riveted gaze made me forget all my saintly intentions; I was destined for hell anyway. "Look at me," I commanded softly.

I compelled obedience. Adrain obeyed. I stood very still, almost afraid to move, the thick, hot night wrapped around us like wet, crushed velvet. 

Everything seemed to have stopped, frozen in time: the air, the music, my heart. In the dark I could make out the glistening sheen of his damp body where his shirt hung open, and his strained expression. His jeans were stretched taut. I should lift my gaze, drag it anywhere but there, and finally I did. 

There was a shortness to my breathing, making it difficult to fill my lungs, and I became aware of the strange tension, throbbing between them, mesmerizing me. I knew this was the only chance I had to stop this. But I didn't want to. 

"I want you," he said.

"No," I tried, not meaning it.

He pressed my hand against his erection.

I gasped, my eyes flying to his. 

"Hold me," he said harshly. "Hard."

I stood motionless, my heart slamming, and as if the Devil were instructing me, my fingers curled around him.

"Yes, princess," he said, and he slipped an arm around me and clasped my buttocks and lifted me against his huge arousal. His body pushed me backward, against the wall. His mouth was already devouring mine. 

I clung to his broad shoulders, heard him curse, gasping. I myself could barely breathe, could barely stand up. His body rocking so suggestively against mine was nearly unbearable, and I found myself grasping his buttocks to anchor him closer. 

I no longer knew myself. His face was pressed into my neck, his wet, hard body covered mine, his powerful arms crushing me in his embrace. And he was rocking his hips against my softness, and I thought I might die, trapped between heaven and hell.

"Please," I moaned, my nails digging into his shoulders. A second later he was crying out and arching against my belly.

"Damn," he said, into my neck. "That wasn't too good for you, was it, princess?"

I whimpered, unable to make a coherent sound.

Then his hand was in my skirt. I gasped as he anchored me by a hank of hair while flipping up my skirts.

He was stroking between my thighs rhythmically, expertly, and I could not bear it.

He locked his arms around my hips and buried his face between my legs. I was shocked. I felt his tongue.

Any desire to protest ceased instantly, as he stroked and laved me intimately, mercilessly. I began climbing peaks, racing from one to the next, higher and higher…

My world shattered. I fell.

Drifting downward, I became aware of many things gradually. 

What have I done?

Actual realization and total recall struck her. My God!

He silenced me abruptly with a hard kiss. I forgot everything. My mouth was demanding, hungry. It became greedy. So did his. I could not get enough of him. Soon his tongue delved into my mouth, stroking insistently, soon mine was mating with his.

I had kissed a few men. But never like this.

His hands were on my breasts, seeking, searching, intent. I felt him cupping me with growing urgency. 

He touched my nipple, teasing it into erectness. He took the distended tip into his mouth and began to suck gently.

I arched wildly into his hard body. I wrapped my thighs around his waist, undulating against him and the fullness grinding against me. We strained at each other like fierce mating animals, panting and heaving. 

He grabbed one of my legs and wrapped it around his waist. I didn't understand anything until he was thrusting hard and deep into me. I cried out in surprise, but he ignored me, lifting my other leg so I was riding his waist, my back against the bed. I clung to his shoulders. He pounded into me. My cry had changed into a soft keening.

In my mind, and maybe I did utter my thoughts, I begged him for release. I begged him for more. In my ear he murmured something indistinct, encouraging, a promise. And then nothing mattered, because I was exploding like the Fourth of July fireworks.

I clung to him as he thrust once, twice, again. Heaven and hell.

"God," he groaned, burying his face in her neck. 

I felt him convulsing inside me. He relaxed against me, leaving me, and then he let my feet slide to the bed.

I found I couldn't stand and I sank to the bed, regaining my breath. When I looked by the side, I saw him sleeping peacefully. 

Confused, my senses returning, my pulse racing, I tried to comprehend what I had done. 

I stood up immediately and ran to the door. And then I heard my name.

“Elena?”