Aurelia

Chase leaned down, his six-foot-five frame eclipsing everything behind him. His shoulders blocked the light, turning the air between us heavy and close.

My mouth went dry. When I licked my lips, his gaze followed the movement with unsettling precision.

I tried to step back., but I was too slow.

His hand closed around my throat, not tight enough to crush, but firm enough to warn. He drove me backward until my spine met the wall, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs.

"What are you doing on my property, Little Lamb?" he growled.

I met his stare instead of answering. My pulse thundered in my ears, but I refused to look away.

His fingers tightened around my throat, a calculated pressure meant to intimidate me.

I forced air into my lungs. "Let. Go."

His thigh shifted forward, caging me in, cutting off any easy escape.

The heat radiating from him was oppressive, a reminder of how easily he could overpower me, but my traitorous body leaned into his warmth, craving more.

"Careful," he said quietly, his voice rough. "Defiance is a dangerous habit."

Fear clawed at my chest, but I held my ground. If I gave him panic, he'd feed on it. If I gave him silence, he'd have to decide what to do next.

"We moved in, now let me go." I said, ignoring the way my heart was pounding wildly in my chest.

For a split second, shock cracked through his expression. His fingers loosened, just slightly.

"What the fuck?" he muttered, his grey eyes darkening as they narrowed. "Your mother tricked my father into proposing to her, didn't she?" He asked in a deep, feral baritone that sent shivers dancing on my skin.

I couldn't answer, his body was so close to mine that even breathing felt reckless. The slightest movement would cause my chest to brush his arm.

And I wasn't wearing a bra. My breasts were bare beneath the thin fabric of my dress, and I was acutely, humiliatingly aware of it.

"What's going on there, Chase?" a female voice cut in from behind him.

He released me immediately, stepping back as if I'd burned him. Space rushed in between us.

A girl about my age approached, water glistening on her skin, her long legs slick from the pool. So they'd been swimming together. Of course they had.

"Oh, nothing," Chase said easily, his mouth twisting into a sneer. "I was just helping my new stepsister find the garden house."

His eyes flicked to mine, sharp and knowing, a warning wrapped in mockery.

The girl lifted a brow but didn't comment.

"Alright then," she said lightly. "You promised you'd take me out on your new bike. I'm ready now, babe."

Before Chase turned away, he caught my arm, his fingers biting just enough to remind me he could do worse. He leaned down, his mouth close to my ear.

"Stay out of my way, Little Lamb," he murmured. "Or I'll be the big bad wolf who eats you."

His lips brushed the shell of my ear.

And to my horror, my fear fractured and twisted into something dangerously close to anticipation.

He let me go and walked away with her.

She didn't follow immediately. Instead, she lingered, studying me with open suspicion.

"He doesn't like you," she said bluntly. "So get that into your head and avoid him."

Her mouth twisted as she continued, each word edged with contempt.

"You might be his stepsister now, but to him? You're just the daughter of a money-hungry whore." She clicked her tongue before walking away to join Chase.

With unsteady legs, I made my way back to my mother. She was standing beside the man who would soon be my stepfather, Darlington Hunter.

He was an older, softened version of Chase. Same bone structure, same presence, but dulled by age and excess, his stomach straining slightly against his tailored shirt.

I wondered, not for the first time, what my mother saw in him. He had looks, yes. Money, definitely. But whatever else there was felt hollow.

"Aurelia," she said brightly when she noticed me, her hand sliding possessively over his chest, "say hello to your daddy."

The word made my stomach churn.

"He's not my daddy," I hissed.

Darlington chuckled, unbothered, as if I hadn't just stripped the word of any warmth it pretended to carry. He extended his hand toward me.

I ignored it.

My mother's stare drilled into my forehead, sharp and furious, but I didn't look away. Darlington simply let his hand fall.

"Nice to meet you, Aurelia," he said pleasantly. "Your mother has told me beautiful things about you."

When he smiled, two gold teeth flashed under the light.

I folded my arms. "Oh? I wish I could say the same."

My mother's eyes narrowed.

"She's just having one of her nonsense mood swings," she said quickly, laughing it off. "You know how girls are."

Darlington's phone rang before I could respond. He kissed my mother on the lips, then excused himself.

He hadn't taken more than five steps when my mother's arm swung.

I saw it coming. I didn't flinch when her palm connected with my cheek.

"I warned you, Aurelia," she snapped. "But you never listen. Stubborn. Just like your father."

"He'd be heartbroken," I said quietly, my face burning. "Watching you sell yourself to rich men."

Her hand clamped around my arm, twisting hard enough to make pain bloom.

"Don't forget," she said through clenched teeth, "I have all your papers. Misbehave, and I'll throw you out."

She released me and walked away as if nothing had happened.

I held the tears until she disappeared into the Hunters' gigantic mansion.

The roar of an engine shattered the moment.

I turned just in time to see Chase astride his bike, revving the engine. The machine gleamed beneath him, expensive, powerful, untouchable. Just like him.

Before he pulled the helmet on, our eyes locked.

His grey gaze hardened instantly, turning cold and unyielding. He lifted two fingers and dragged them slowly across his throat in a silent, mocking warning.

Beside him, his girlfriend hopped on the bike, her mouth set in a permanent scowl.

I watched as Chase sped off, his leather jacket snapping in the wind as he disappeared down the road.

I was in his world now.

And whether I wanted it or not, I would have to survive it.

I busied myself with unpacking until late into the night. I was halfway through my shower when the water abruptly died.

Then the lights went out.

A crack of thunder split the air, followed by lightning so close it rattled the walls. I flinched, pressing a hand to my chest as my heartbeat skidded out of rhythm.

There was a storm?

I stood there for several minutes, shivering beneath the dead spray, waiting for the lights to flicker back on. They didn't.

The cold crept in slowly, insistently, until my teeth began to chatter.

Blinded by darkness, I reached for my towel and wrapped it tightly around myself.

Careful not to slip, I stepped out of the shower and into my new bedroom.

The tiles were slick beneath my feet, unfamiliar and unwelcoming.

Maybe my mother would know what had happened, whether this was just another inconvenience or something worse.

The hallway beyond my door was swallowed in black.

I stretched my hands out in front of me, my fingers brushing along the wall as I edged forward.

I couldn't even see my own hands. Every sound felt amplified, the distant rumble of thunder, the soft pad of my footsteps, the uneven rhythm of my breathing.

The sound of boots pounding the floor caused me to stop abruptly. Someone was coming, but I didn't know if the person was approaching behind me or ahead.

Shit. I was naked underneath this towel, and it was too dark to see who it was. I had to turn around.

The footsteps grew louder, closer. I couldn't just stand there like a scared little chicken, so I walked faster, heading back to my room.

Thunder cracked so hard and loud that it rattled the windows, a violent boom that seemed to shake the entire mansion.

I flinched, my heart slamming against my ribs, and in that split second of distraction, my bare foot slipped on the slick marble floor.

I stumbled forward, my arms flailing for balance that wasn't there.

Strong hands caught me, too late to stop the fall, but enough to twist us mid-air.

We crashed together onto the cold hallway floor, my back hitting the marble with a jolt that knocked the breath from my lungs.

My stupid towel unraveled in the chaos, slipping from my wet skin like a traitor.

For one endless heartbeat, everything was pure darkness.

Then the lights snapped back on, harsh and unforgiving, flooding the corridor in blinding white.

Chase Hunter was sprawled over me, his heavy body pinning mine to the floor, one muscular thigh wedged firmly between my legs.

Aurelia

His hands gripped my bare waist, his long fingers digging into my damp skin with bruising force, as if he'd meant to shove me away but couldn't quite bring himself to let go.

Water still clung to my body from the interrupted shower; droplets traced slow paths down my collarbone, over the curve of my breasts, disappearing beneath the press of his chest.

I was completely exposed, the towel tangled uselessly somewhere beneath us, and the shock of it burned hotter than any embarrassment I'd ever felt.

His dark hair was tousled, falling into those storm-grey eyes that were locked on mine with predatory intensity.

His breath came in sharp, uneven bursts against my lips. The heat rolling off him was overwhelming, chasing away the chill of the storm and replacing it with something far more dangerous.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

His gaze dropped, slowly and hungrily, raking over my naked chest, my parted thighs, the way his leg pressed intimately against me.

When his eyes flicked back to mine, the hatred was still there, sharp and vicious, but it was tangled now with raw, undeniable hunger.

His jaw clenched so tight I could hear the grind of his teeth.

"Get off me," I whispered, but my voice came out breathless, trembling.

My hands shoved at his chest, broad, hard, and scorching hot beneath the thin fabric of his black t-shirt, but he didn't budge.

Instead, his grip on my waist tightened, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin just below my ribs in a way that felt less like restraint and more like possession.

"You're in my house," he growled, voice low and rough, vibrating through me where our bodies touched. "Naked. And on my floor. Begging to be fucked, Little Lamb?"

The crude words hit like a slap, igniting fury and something darker, something that made my hips shift involuntarily against his thigh.

A spark of treacherous heat flared low in my belly, and I hated myself for it.

I arched up, trying to push him away, but the movement only brought my breasts flush against his chest, my nipples hardening at the friction.

A low, involuntary sound escaped my throat.

His eyes darkened impossibly further, pupils blown wide.

One hand slid up my side, stopping just beneath the swell of my breast, close enough that his knuckles grazed the underside, sending a jolt straight through me.

"Careful," he murmured, his full sensuous lips brushing the shell of my ear as thunder rolled again outside. "Keep moving like that, and I won't be gentle."

His hips rocked forward once, letting me feel exactly how hard he already was.

My breath caught, a helpless gasp that betrayed me completely.

And in that moment, pinned beneath my worst enemy, naked and shaking with a mix of terror and want I couldn't name, I realized the real danger wasn't the storm raging outside.

It was the one he'd just unleashed between us.

His mouth hovered a fraction from mine, his fierce eyes burning with promise and threat.

"I hate you, I hate you with every fibre of my being." he said in a throaty whisper, his hot breath fanning my face.

"I hate you thrice as much. I hate you with my body and soul." I told him without flinching.

His eyes burned with a feral intensity that both warmed and chilled me, and then the lights flickered once more, plunging us back into darkness just as his lips crashed against mine.

Oh. My. God. Chase tasted like whiskey, sin and danger mixed together.

Then, without warning, he broke the kiss and moved away from me like I'd burned him.

"Go to your room now, little lamb, or I'll devour you to pieces."

I didn't need to be told. It was too dark to start trying to cover myself up. I ran with the towel tangled around my legs to my room. I wrenched the door open, got in and locked it behind him.

Chase Hunter kissed me. My new stepbrother. I shouldn't have gone out into the hallway. I shouldn't have kissed him back.

I was supposed to hate him. He'd made my life a living nightmare in school, and he'd threatened to continue from where he stopped. That was enough reason to hate him.

The next morning, I was picking at my breakfast when my mother decided to ruin what was left of my appetite.

"Aurelia, Chase will be driving you to campus today for your registration and orientation tour," she announced, all casual, like she was commenting on the weather instead of sentencing me to hell.

My fork clattered against the plate. "What?"

"You heard me." She didn't even glance up from her phone. "It'll be good for you two to bond."

Bond. Right. Like gluing dynamite to a lit match.

"I have the campus map on my phone," I said, forcing my voice steady even though my pulse was already spiking. "And I definitely don't need a babysitter. Especially not him."

She opened her mouth, probably to threaten me with the safe and my documents again, but right then Chase and Darlington strolled into the dining room like they owned the air itself. Which, technically, they kind of did.

"Speak of the devil," I muttered.

My mother shot me a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

"Chase, darling," she cooed, switching to full Stepford-wife mode, "I was just telling Aurelia you'd be kind enough to drive her to campus and show her around."

Chase froze mid-step, his grey eyes snapping to me like I'd personally offended him by existing.

His jaw tightened, and for a second I thought he might actually refuse.

But Darlington just chuckled, clapping his son on the shoulder. "Of course he will. Family helps family."

Family. The word tasted like bile.

I shoved my chair back and stood. "I'll be leaving now."

"Aurelia," my mother warned through gritted teeth, "be a good girl and greet your daddy properly."

I sucked in a slow breath, turned to Darlington with the fakest smile I could muster, and said in the sweetest, most sarcastic tone, "Good morning, Daddy Dearest. Hope you slept well on all that inherited money."

Then I turned on my heel and stormed out before anyone could stop me.

My face was still burning when I hit the kitchen. I yanked open the massive Sub-Zero fridge, bending down to grab my water bottle from the bottom shelf.

The cold air kissed my bare legs (ugh, stupid short sundress, but it was hot as hell outside) and I was so focused on not screaming that I didn't hear him come in.

Not until his hard body pressed against me from behind.

One second I was alone, the next Chase was there, chest to my back, hips pinning mine against the open fridge door.

The sudden heat of him made every inch of my skin ignite. His hand slid around my waist, fingers splaying possessively over my stomach, pulling me tighter against him while his other hand curled lightly around my throat from behind.

I froze, water bottle forgotten, breath trapped in my lungs.

His lips brushed the shell of my ear, his voice low and dangerous, dripping with venom and something darker. "What silly little game are you and your gold-digging mother playing, Little Lamb?"

I tried to twist away, but his grip only tightened, my waist locked in his iron grip, my throat held in a warning squeeze that made my pulse thunder against his palm.

"I know all about it," he growled, breath hot against my neck. "How she fluttered her lashes and got my father to pay your tuition. How she's sinking her claws into our money, one bill at a time. You think we're that easy? You think you can waltz in here, play innocent, and bleed us dry?"

His fingers flexed around my throat, not choking, just reminding me how easily he could. The pressure sent a reckless shiver racing down my spine, pooling low and treacherous between my thighs.

"You're both the same," he whispered, lips grazing my skin. "Greedy. Desperate. But you?"

His hand on my waist slid lower, thumb tracing the edge of my dress hem, teasing the bare skin of my thigh. "You're worse. Prancing around my house half-naked, begging for attention with that tight little body."

I swallowed hard, the movement pressing my throat harder into his grip. "Let go of me."

He laughed huskily. "Oh, I will. For now. But listen close, Little Lamb." His hips rolled forward once, letting me feel every hard inch of him pressed against my ass. "Step out of line, just once, and I'll devour you. Piece by fucking piece. I'll ruin you so completely you'll feel me for weeks."

Little did he know that I was already ruined.

Aurelia

His hand on my throat squeezed once more, a final, lethal promise, before both hands released me so suddenly I nearly stumbled.

Cold air rushed in where his body had been.

By the time I spun around, water bottle clutched like a weapon, he was already leaning against the counter, arms crossed, that cruel smirk cutting across his face like he hadn't just threatened to destroy me in the filthiest way possible.

"Car leaves in ten," he said coolly. "Be in it. Or I'll drag you there myself."

He pushed off the counter and walked out, leaving me shaking against the fridge, thighs pressed together against the ache he'd left behind.

By the time I stomped out to the driveway, Chase was already leaning against his sleek black Audi, arms crossed, looking pissed enough to devour me right there in broad daylight.

Those grey eyes tracked me like a predator watching prey that had dared to make him wait.

I yanked open the passenger door and slid in, slamming it harder than necessary.

The second my seatbelt clicked, his hand shot out, lightning fast, fingers clamping around my waist.

"What the-"

Before I could finish, he hit the button to recline his seat all the way back. One brutal tug and I was hauled across the console, sprawled face-down over his lap like I weighed nothing.

My sundress rode up instantly, cool air hitting the backs of my thighs as my ass tilted up toward him.

His palm cracked down on my bare skin with a sharp, stinging smack that echoed inside the car.

I gasped, the sound half-shock, half-something I refused to name. Heat exploded across my ass, blooming hot and fierce.

"That's for the smart mouth at breakfast," he growled, his voice husky and rough, his free hand pinning my hips so I couldn't wriggle away. "And for making me wait like some fucking chauffeur."

Another smack, harder this time, landed on the other cheek. My fingers scrabbled for purchase on the leather seat, breath hitching as the sting sank deeper, twisting into something dark and throbbing between my legs.

I hated how my body arched into it, how my thighs pressed together against the sudden ache.

"Chase-stop-"

He didn't. His hand came down again, slower this time. The crack of skin on skin made me jolt, a whimper slipping out before I could bite it back.

"Keep talking," he warned, fingers tracing the burning outline he'd just left, rough and possessive. "Every time you open that pretty mouth to defy me, I add another. By the time we get to campus, you'll be dripping down your thighs, begging me to finish what I started last night."

His palm soothed over the heat for a second, just long enough for me to catch my breath, then lifted and struck again, right at the curve where ass met thigh.

The sting shot straight to my core, and I couldn't stop the helpless moan that tore free.

He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of my ear, breath hot and whiskey-rough even this early.

"You're mine to punish now, Little Lamb. In this house. In this car. On that fucking campus. Every time you forget it, I'll remind you exactly who you belong to."

His fingers slipped just under the edge of my panties, not quite touching where I was shamefully wet, but close enough that I felt the threat of it. A promise.

Then, as suddenly as he'd grabbed me, he lifted me off his lap and deposited me back in my seat like nothing had happened. My dress fell back into place, but the heat pulsing across my skin, and deeper, remained.

He started the engine with a low growl that matched the one still rumbling in his chest.

"Seatbelt," he ordered, eyes forward, his jaw tight.

I fumbled with shaking hands to click it in place, thighs clenched, every nerve on fire.

The car peeled out of the driveway, tires screeching just enough to match the scream I was holding inside.

The arrogant bully that he was, Chase screeched to a halt right at the massive wrought-iron gates of University of Underwood, engine revving like he couldn't wait to be rid of me.

He didn't say a word. He didn't even glance my way. He just stared straight ahead, one hand drumming impatiently on the steering wheel.

I shoved the door open and climbed out, my ass still throbbing faintly from his "lesson" earlier, every step a reminder of his palm on my skin.

The second my feet hit the pavement, he punched the gas and drove off, tires spitting gravel and leaving me in a cloud of exhaust and humiliation.

Well, good riddance to bad rubbish.

Registration flew by, but orientation dragged on forever. Endless tours, forced small talk, and a campus so huge I felt like a speck.

By the time I dragged myself back through the mansion's front doors, the sky had gone dark, the house lit only by soft sconces along the walls.

Chase's Audi was in the garage, gleaming under the low lights like a bad omen.

My stomach twisted. After everything he'd done to me between last night and today, in the hallway, the kitchen, the car, I wanted nothing more than to sneak upstairs, lock my door, and pretend he didn't exist.

I slipped off my shoes, moving as quietly as possible, heart thudding with every creak of the marble floor.

The second floor was silent, thank God. My room was at the far end of the hall; his was closer to the stairs, the master-sized suite that screamed spoiled prince.

I was almost past it when a low, unmistakable sound stopped me dead.

A woman's moan, breathless, needy, followed by the rhythmic creak of a bed and a deep, guttural groan that I knew belonged to him.

His door was half ajar, a slice of warm golden light spilling into the hallway like an invitation I never asked for.

I should have kept walking. I should have run.

But my feet wouldn't move. My hand tightened around my bag strap, and before I could stop myself, I edged closer, just enough to see through the gap.

And God, I wished I hadn't.

Chase was on his knees in the center of his massive bed, completely naked, every inch of him carved from pure sin. Moonlight and lamplight poured over his broad shoulders, highlighting the flex of muscle down his back, the taper of his waist, the powerful thighs braced wide.

His dark hair was messy, damp with sweat, falling into his eyes as he moved.

He was magnificent, feral and beautiful in a way that made my throat dry and my core clench against my will.

A girl, blonde, long-legged, the same one from the pool, was on her hands and knees in front of him, back arched, her face buried in the sheets as he fucked her from behind with slow, brutal thrusts.

His hand was fisted in her hair, pulling her head back just enough to make her cry out, while his other hand gripped her hip, fingers digging into soft flesh hard enough to leave marks.

But it was him, his cock, that stole every ounce of air from my lungs.

He was huge. Thick, long, glistening with her wetness as he pulled almost all the way out before driving back in with a roll of his hips that made her whole body jolt.

Veins stood out along the shaft, the head flushed dark and swollen, stretching her visibly with every punishing stroke. It was raw, obscene and perfect.

And the sight of it sliding in and out of her, slick and relentless, it sent a bolt of heat straight between my legs.

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move or tear my eyes away from the way his abs flexed, the way his ass tightened with each thrust, the low growls rumbling from his chest like he was barely holding on to control.

He shifted, angling deeper, and the girl shattered, moaning his name in a broken sob as her arms gave out.

Chase didn't stop. He slammed into her harder, chasing his own release, his head tipping back, neck corded, his full lips parted in a silent snarl.

I pressed my thighs together, hating the ache building low in my belly, hating how wet I already was just from watching.

Then his head turned, just a fraction, and those storm-grey eyes locked onto mine through the crack in the door, pinning me in place.

He saw me, and everything stopped.