Novel & Cerita Craving The Wrong Brother Novel Read Online Free Pdf

He rested his elbows on his knees and tilted his head like he was studying an injured animal he'd run down in the woods. "Well," Malcolm drawled, "that was intense. Real fuckin' Shakespearean drama right there. Brother turns on brother over some prime pussy. Classic." I didn’t respond. Didn’t have the spit for it. Just lay there staring at the blood-smeared floorboards, trying to focus on anything other than the searing pain lancing my skull or the deeper, gut-wrenching ache in my chest where brotherhood used to live.

"I've been thinking about you all day. About what I'm going to do to you at the Summit." "At the Summit?" His grin was wicked as he kissed his way down my stomach and hooked his fingers in my shorts, dragging them down along with my underwear in one smooth pull. "All those powerful Alphas in one place and none of them will know that their future Beta's brother is fucking his step-sister in a storage room three doors down from the grand hall." Heat flooded between my legs and he saw it, saw the way my thighs pressed together, and he spread them apart with both hands and settled his face between them.

I unclenched it slowly. It was only when I lowered my hand that I felt the warm wet line crawling down the inside of my wrist. A long curve of crystal had opened a thin clean cut across the heel of my palm. It just sat there, weeping, the blood rolling slowly down the inside of my forearm and beginning to spot the cuff of my white shirt. I watched it for a long time. I just stood at the cabinet and watched my own blood spread into the brandy, and the brandy spread into the wood, and the wood begin to take both of them in like the floor of this house had taken my brother's blood the night before.

She was strictly off-limits. I groaned again, rubbing my hands over my face in frustration. I shouldn't even be thinking about her in such a filthy manner. It was wrong. It was completely forbidden. But ever since I came back home from school, I couldn't help but feel more and more drawn to her every single day. I desperately wanted to know how she felt under my touch. I wanted to know how she sounded when she lost control. I wanted to know exactly how she tasted. I told myself that maybe—just maybe—if I could find the answers to all these questions just once, I would finally stop having all these crazy, toxic fantasies about her. Otherwise, I was going to end up dying with these wild fantas

If you knew what would happen to you in the future…! ‘Ah, damn, wait. I think there was a threesome scene too.’ Is this what they call the curse of knowledge? My head was gradually being dyed a damp red color. …No, let’s stop thinking, Gabriel Bailey! I decided not to imagine the promiscuous scenes from the novel with these kids! “Brother. Are you really not going to play?” “I have something to think about.” Just as I rejected Harper’s invitation again. “Brother. Do you hate your younger brother?”

She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Her mind flashed back to the latest chapter of her favorite web novel, The Self-Restrained Buddha Who Practices Calligraphy by Day and Clings to His Lover by Night. The story of the cold-hearted Buddha being pulled down from his pedestal by a seductress was eerily similar to her brother's relationship with me. And then there was my breathless, affectedly calm voice on the phone the other day... A wild, thrilling thought popped into her head. They were definitely together! A secret relationship!

🔞 WARNING ⚠️: Things get steamy in this chapter, Not suitable for younger readers💋 Adult Themes: Love, temptation, and desire take center stage. Continue only if you’re ready to get wet and burn ❤️‍🔥 for your stepbrother🥵 Astrid’s POV

Rule number one: Don't fall for your brother's best friend. Rule number two: Definitely don't move into his penthouse *** I have a condition. Doctors don't have a name for it. My exes just call me "broken." Four boyfriends. Four identical endings. Four men who gave up on a body that freezes when it should melt. Then there's Duane Richter. Three-time F1 World Champion. My brother's best friend. The man I've been dreaming about since I was fourteen—the kind of dreams that actually work, where my body does what it's supposed to, where I'm not frozen, where I'm not wrong. He's cold. Distant. Looks at me like I'm a problem he didn't ask for. But when he touches me— When he says my n

“God, Frankie, I want you so badly. Do it… please. Suck my pussy until I come.” And he gave me exactly what I wanted. He licked my clit once before sucking it into his mouth. “You taste so good. Sweet and all mine.” I moaned, and my eyes nearly rolled back in my head. There was no confusion about what I was doing. I didn’t care what anyone thought, didn’t care what society or our family would say about me fucking my brother. We were both twisted, and it was perfect. “Tell your big brother's best friend what I want to hear, Saffa baby. If you’re my good girl, I’ll give you anything you want.”

I choked, my voice breaking. But he only moved closer, his boots splashing against the puddles as he closed the distance between us. “I told you,” he said softly, crouching down in front of me, his face inches from mine. The rain dripped from his lashes, sliding down to his mouth. “You married the wrong brother.” My breath caught. His nearness was suffocating, overwhelming. He smelled like rain and smoke and sin. “You think this is funny?” I spat, though my voice trembled.