Novel & Cerita Stepbrother Romance Books

"This is going to sound so wrong, so weird... I... I have feelings for someone I really shouldn’t." I bit my lip hard, watching her expression twist in anticipation. She almost burst out laughing but held herself back. "Girl! What is it? BDSM? Poly? Tell me!" I swallowed. "My stepbrother." "Holy flipping balls. Your what!?" "I know! It’s insane!" "Yeah, it is—but hey, you only live once. So... is he hot?" "Hot? He is sin. Like, walking temptation. Honestly, it’s exhausting... How do I stop myself from getting turned on just thinking about him?"

Chapter 1. Brent’s POV You might think my story goes like every other stepbrother hate-to-love type of shit, but trust me when I say it’s completely different from what you might’ve seen before. For you to understand this story, I’d like you to know why this hatred between two brothers actually runs so deep. …….. My life was no different from every other picture-perfect family where the dad goes to work and returns back home to the wife in the kitchen whipping up dinner while their kid runs round the house. It had always been like this till the ugly truth had to come out.

Here’s an edited and refined version of your concept: --- ### **My Forbidden Stepbrother** #### **Synopsis** When Scarlet and her stepbrother Logan shared a forbidden night together while their parents were out of town, Logan fled, consumed by guilt. Five years later, he returns—now engaged to someone else—only to find that Scarlet is no longer the innocent girl he left behind. Grown into a confident and stunning woman, Scarlet is nursing her own heartbreak after discovering her boyfriend's infidelity. As unresolved feelings resurface and old wounds reopen, both must confront the tension between their shared past and their uncertain futures.

“His name’s Richard. Haven’t met him yet. And no, I don’t care.” Zara laughed. “You don’t care? Your mom’s getting a husband. That makes him your—” “Stepdad. I know.” Zara smirked. “And that means…” “He has a son too,” Amaya muttered. Zara gasped, eyes sparkling. “No. Way. You’re getting a stepbrother?” “Apparently.” “Girl, your life is turning into a freaking K-drama,” Zara laughed. “Just wait until he’s tall, dark, and brooding with emotional trauma and a mysterious tattoo on his back.”

I let out another exasperated sigh and leaned my head back against the seat. “Why not give it a try? I’m not trying to meddle in your life, but I think you should fix your relationship with him as soon as possible. Whether you like it or not, there’s nothing you can really do now… especially since your mother is already married to Sir Clyden.” “No fucking way!” I’d rather die than accept being that man’s stepbrother. We’d already seen every part of our bodies and moaned each other’s names, for fuck’s sake. That’s ridiculous.

Was this real? Could it be true… that my stepbrother and I were fated mates?

I can almost feel the way he used to look at me, with that mix of protection and cold indifference. My stomach twists again with a familiar, sickening shame. I'm standing in a penthouse, selling myself to a stranger, and I’m still using my stepbrother as a fantasy to get through it. I’m a special kind of broken. My gaze flits, my body trembling. I shouldn’t want him… not like this. But I can’t help it. And what are the odds I’ve ended up delivered to a Russian hunk, despite my unhealthy obsession with my estranged stepbrother?

She questioned. A hint of smile appeared on my lips before I could control it. “It is nothing.” “No, girl. Don’t give me that nothing bullshit. Sleeping over at your stepbrother’s house doesn’t mean nothing.” I rolled my eyes. “Stop calling him my stepbrother.” “Is he not? See? You even hate the sound of it. I wasn’t lying when I said you have fallen for him.” I slapped my forehead. “It isn’t my fault.” “Trust me, I understand. I’d want a little of him too if I was in your position. Hot tattooed professors like that are very rare.” She admitted. “So, did you guys have sex?” She asked.

I tried to hard to stand up, but my energy doesn't compare to his. He kissed me. Not gentle, not soft. His mouth claimed mine like he'd been starving for years. His tongue slipped past mine, and I tasted coffee and something sharper. Hunger. I kissed him back, my stepbrother. The man who had been cold to me for two years, who never looked at me twice. His hand slid up my thigh to under my dress. His fingers brushed my panties, and I was wet. Achingly wet. “Look at you,” he murmured against my lips. “Saying no with your mouth, but your body says yes.”

I cursed discarding the thing to the floor and erupting from the couch, then walked to the wine cabinet and pulled out a fresh bottle. “Bruh, what crawled up your ass and died? You’ve been absent-minded the entire time you've sat there.” Romeo asked walking to where I was and clamped my shoulder tightly, “Is everything alright? You’ve never been this distracted.” No. Not even a single thing is alright because that damn boy I have been working hard to get off my mind sprung back from wherever he disappeared to and guess what, he is my fuckin’ stepbrother. “I’m fine.” I snapped instead, then walked back to the couch and plopped myself.