Todos los capítulos de My Fiance is Sleeping With My Step Sister : Capítulo 91 - Capítulo 100

The morning light barely touched the edges of our room when I stirred, still curled against Devon’s chest. His warmth was addictive, his steady heartbeat a rhythm I could have sworn would lull me into forever.“Addy,” he murmured, his fingers threading into my hair. “You’re awake.”I smiled sleepily, resting my hand over his. “I’m never leaving this spot,” I whispered, nuzzling closer. “Promise me I can stay a little longer.”He chuckled softly, pressing his lips to my forehead. “You can stay as long as you like. I’m not going anywhere.”For a few moments, the world was nothing but us. The soft sunlight, our intertwined bodies, the gentle rise and fall of our breathing. It felt like a dream where danger didn’t exist, where we could just be Addy and Devon, not Alpha and Luna, not targets of vengeance, not pawns in someone else’s schemes.But even in this serenity, I sensed the subtle shift the tension Devon tried so hard to hide. I felt it first in the way he stiffened when he heard th

My lungs still burned.Even though Devon had already pulled me into the safety of his arms, even though Elias’ shadow was gone from the hallway, I couldn’t stop shaking. My chest rose and fell in frantic jerks, my heartbeat hammering against my ribs so violently I thought it might break through. Joey stirred weakly beside me, half-conscious after the blow she’d taken, but all I could do was clutch Devon’s shirt with trembling fists as if letting go would mean Elias would come back and drag me away.“I’ve got you,” Devon’s voice was low, guttural, more animal than man. His scent surrounded me, smoke and pine and fury, his body hot and hard against mine. His hands ran over me quickly, checking, searching, making sure Elias hadn’t hurt me. “You’re safe now. He didn’t touch you. Tell me he didn’t”I shook my head violently before he could finish, tears spilling down my cheeks. “No. No, he didn’t. But… but he almost” My throat closed, choking on the thought of what might have happened if D

The first thing I felt when I woke was soreness. My body ached in ways that made me blush even with no one around to see my thoughts. Every muscle hummed with the memory of the night before of Devon’s relentless touch, his claiming, the roughness that had pushed me to places I hadn’t thought I could endure.I winced slightly as I stretched, then sighed into the pillows, warmth blooming inside me. For all the intensity, for all the bruises I could feel on my hips and thighs, there was something grounding in the way he had held me afterward. Soft. Steady. As if he wanted to shield me from everything.A low growl of satisfaction rumbled from beside me. “You’re sore,” Devon’s voice came, husky with sleep.I turned my head to find him watching me, propped up on one elbow. His hair was tousled, his jaw shadowed with stubble, his golden eyes softened by the morning light. But there was no mistaking the edge of pride in his expression, the satisfaction of a man who had left his mark.“You’re

The air outside the daycare felt different than the air inside. Inside, there had been warmth, laughter, and the kind of chaotic energy only children could carry. Out here, the breeze was sharper, carrying the earthy tang of pine needles and the faint promise of rain. It brushed over my cheeks and through my hair, reminding me I was back in the world where fear still waited in the shadows.Devon didn’t let go of me as we walked, not even for a second. His arm stayed snug around my waist, the protective weight of his palm anchored against my hip. It was as though he feared that if he loosened his grip, I might vanish or worse be taken. And though part of me longed for the illusion of independence, the other part of me, the fragile part still trembling from the near-kidnapping, leaned into his strength without shame.The sound of children’s laughter clung to me, echoing in my head long after we’d left the daycare behind. Their little voices, their tiny hands tugging at mine, the way the

Devon’s forehead rested against mine, and for a long time neither of us moved. His breath was steady, his presence overwhelming yet grounding, as though if he let go even for a moment I might slip through his fingers.And maybe, in some ways, I would have. Because so much of me was still healing, still piecing itself together after years of breaking.I inhaled shakily, pressing my face into the crook of his neck. His scent enveloped me cedarwood and smoke, the faint metallic edge of battle that never truly left him. It should have been intimidating. Instead, it soothed me.His arms closed tighter around me, broad and immovable. “You’re too quiet,” he murmured, his voice low, husky, as though it belonged to the shadows and the night.“I’m just… thinking.”“About?” His lips brushed the crown of my head, patient but insistent. Devon was many things, but when it came to me, he never tolerated half-truths.I shifted slightly, my hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt. “Today felt like so