Endlessly

“Who would have thought goody two shoes Tatiana Olivera is a nasty sl*t who fantasies about f*ck*ng her step brother?” Hasan continues his teasing. He inserts in middle finger in my mouth and I greedily s*ck on it, picturing it to be his c*ck. Hasan’s mouth parts open, his brows cresting as he watches me s*ck his middle finger like a kid sucking on a candy cane. I frowned when he pulled out his middle finger. He grabs my chin with a fierceness that sent me on edge. “Open your mouth.” He orders and I obey. He takes in a deep breath as though calming himself and before I knew it, hot liquid drops into my mouth. Did.. did he just spit in my mouth? It tastes divine. It tastes like him. And I want more. “Swallow.” I meet his gaze as I gulp down his saliva. A proud smile appears on his face. “There’s my good little sl*t.” ***** I hate Hasan Olivera. I can’t stand him. The way he walks into the room like he owns the place, the smug smirk that says he already knows what I am thinking. He’s insufferably cocky, sharp-tongued, insanely hot and fully aware of it. And those eyes? Dark, knowing, endlessly amused by the fact that, no matter how much I pretend otherwise, I’m completely drawn to him. I want him to f*ck me. I want him to claim me. I want him to be mine because I belong to him. But he's my step brother. And I hate my step brother. -------

Alpha Ethan's first love, Sarah, died unexpectedly just days before their marking ceremony. His grief was so profound, it sent shockwaves through the entire Duskrend pack. I spent my youth walking beside him, helping him crawl out of that darkness. And finally, when he was ready to love again, he chose to mark me. In the first two years after he marked me, I got pregnant twice. Both times ended in miscarriage. Ethan, heart aching, told me he couldn't bear to see me suffer through childbirth again. That he didn't want me to endure that kind of pain anymore. But in the third year, I conceived again. On the way to see the pack healer for a routine checkup, I was attacked by a wild beast. My wolf, desperate to protect me, burned through most of her life force holding the creature off. Ethan arrived just in time and carried me to the pack hospital himself. But the healer shook his head. We had lost too much time. The pup couldn't be saved. Worse, my ability to bear pups would be permanently damaged because my wolf was too injured to ever carry life again. My mother clung to me, sobbing. Ethan stood in the corner and smiled. "Joy just can't have pups anymore," he said. "But Sarah—Sarah lost her life because of people like you." Then he looked at my mother, his voice edged with contempt. "You were the one who forced Sarah to abort. You watched her—an Omega without a wolf—scream herself to death. So now, your daughter shall feel that pain too." Five years after severing our mate bond, Ethan had become the most powerful Lycan Chairman the region had ever seen—courted, admired, endlessly celebrated. And me? I was working at an underground club. I was dressed in scraps of fabric, smiling until my cheeks ached, bowing and pouring drinks for whoever walked into the VIP room. There shouldn't have been any reason for our paths to cross again. But Ethan held me tight, eyes red and refusing to let go— “Say it,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Call me your mate.”