Semua Bab My Stepbrother, My Ruin: Bab 61 - Bab 70

I yanked open the bathroom door and bolted into the hallway, water dripping everywhere. I didn’t think. I didn’t look.I dove.Straight onto Ryder, who had just turned the corner with a bowl of something in his hand.We crashed to the floor in a flailing mess of limbs and curses.“Jesus—Evie?!”“There’s a spider!” I shrieked, clinging to his very solid and very shirtless chest like my life depended on it. Which, honestly, it did.“A what—?”“A SPIDER, RYDER. A big one. With legs. And an agenda to kill me!”He blinked at me, clearly trying to process the fact that I was…well…soapy, wet, and very much naked on top of him.I realized it at the same time he did.“Oh my God,” I croaked, scrambling up. “Oh my God—I’m—this isn’t—”He looked dazed. Just flat-out stunned.“I didn’t mean to dive on you like that,” I babbled, backing up while trying to cover myself with my hands and also failing miserably. “There was a spider and I panicked and my brain just short-circuited and now I’m—oh God—”

He hadn’t even fucked me yet but I was shaking.“Fuck… Ryder!!” I cried out, voice wrecked and breathless. I wanted to grab something, his hair, the sheets, the goddamn sky, anything at all as his tongue pushed deeper into my dripping pussy, working inside me with such precision as if it was the only water on earth, he put his tongue inside wet muscle thrusting in slow, teasing strokes that made my toes curl so hard they cramped.But I couldn’t grab anything.I was tied.Arms bound above me, legs spread wide, every limb useless but trembling. All I could do was lie there, squirming and writhing while he feasted on me. And fuck, was he taking his time.He wasn’t just eating me out—he was devouring me, slow and mean, like he had all night to torture me with pleasure. His tongue slid in and out, curling, lapping, then retreating just long enough to drive me mad before plunging back inside.I was leaking onto the sheets, my wetness pooling beneath me, coating the inside of my thighs, g

Ryder turned off the water with one hand, the other never leaving my waist. He wrapped a towel around me with the kind of care that made my throat tighten, then lifted me again—my body limp in his arms, skin warm and slick from the shower.Not because I was weak.But because I wanted him to carry me.I wanted to be held.And he did.He held me like I was something fragile. Like the fire he'd stoked in me hadn’t just burned through the room minutes ago. Like I was still soft under the ash.The bedroom lights were low, the sheets slightly rumpled, shadows dancing along the edges of the walls as he laid me down—gentle, deliberate, like setting something precious into place.He didn’t rush to leave. Didn’t grab his phone. He didn’t even bother with clothes.He just joined me.Pulled the covers over both of us, slid behind me, and tucked my bare body against his chest. His arm looped around my waist. His lip

Maya drove quietly for a while, her fingers drumming on the wheel, some low R&B song playing through the speakers. It wasn’t awkward, just… heavy. Like we both had too many thoughts and not enough space in the car to say them out loud.We pulled into a quiet neighborhood, one of those older parts of town with cracked sidewalks, chipped fences, and the scent of fried food wafting through the air. Her house was small, pale blue with flower pots near the porch. To be sincerely speaking, I expected more. Most Ravencrest students, boast about their houses. Homes and how rich they were. This was just unexpected. “This is me,” she said, throwing the car into park.“Cute,” I murmured.Maya smirked. “Wait till you see inside. I know it isn't much, but it's mine and I worked hard for it without my parents help.”I smiled. "Really nice."I followed her up the steps, and the second we got inside, I was hit with the smell of cinnamon and old books. A fan spun lazily overhead, and photos cover

Ryder’s penthouse looked like something off the cover of a billionaire lifestyle magazine. It was sleek, masculine cold in a way that felt intentional. The walls were painted a deep charcoal, the floors a polished dark wood that reflected just enough light from the massive windows facing the city skyline. There was a pool table in the far corner, untouched. Shelves lined one wall, filled with books that looked like they were chosen more for aesthetic than interest.But the living room, yeah, that was his favorite spot. Black leather sectional. Minimalist décor. Everything smelled like cedarwood and ambition.I was curled into the far corner of the couch, arms wrapped around my knees. He stood across from me, hands shoved in his pockets, staring like I was some unsolvable equation.I told him everything that happened with Maya, not that I was hoping for his support. I didn't need it. Not from a liar.“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” he said, voice tight, “I’m saying you need to slow