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.

Aurelia

The girl was still trembling beneath him, gasping into the sheets, completely oblivious. But Chase didn't look away from me. His hips slowed to a torturous grind, that thick, slick length dragging in and out of her with deliberate cruelty as he held my stare through the crack in the door.

His lips curved into a slow, wicked smirk, like dark promise and pure threat wrapped together.

Sweat gleamed on his chest, his abs flexing with every controlled thrust. His eyes burned straight through me, pinning me in place more effectively than his hands ever could.

He knew exactly what I'd seen. Exactly what it had done to me.

Heat flooded my face, my chest, pooling low and shameful between my thighs. My knees nearly buckled.

I stumbled backward and bolted down the hall. I didn't stop until I was inside my room. I slammed the door shut, and with trembling fingers, I turned the lock.

I pressed my back to the wood, chest heaving, my thighs clenched against the ache that watching him had left behind.

Shit.

He'd seen me watching. I slid down the door until I was sitting on the floor, trying to drag air into my lungs. Trying to erase the image of him, magnificent, brutal, and impossibly huge, moving inside her like he owned every inch of pleasure in the world.

Minutes crawled by. The house was silent again, or maybe my pulse was just too loud to hear anything else.

Then came the loud BANG!

A fist pounded against my door, hard enough to rattle the frame. I jolted, a startled gasp tearing from my throat.

BANG! Another one, heavy, impatient, commanding.

"Open the door, Little Lamb."

His voice rolled through the wood, low and frighteningly deep, laced with dark velvet and raw danger.

It wasn't a request. It was a predator's growl, the kind that made prey freeze and beg at the same time.

My breath hitched. Every nerve in my body lit up, terror and heat twisting together until I couldn't tell them apart.

"I know you're in there," he said, quieter now, but somehow worse. Closer. Like his mouth was pressed to the door. "I can hear you breathing. I can practically smell how wet you got watching me fuck her."

Oh God.

My thighs pressed tighter together, traitorous and desperate.

"Open the door," he commanded again, his voice dropping even lower, rough with promise. "Or I'll break it down and drag you out myself. And when I do, Little Lamb... I won't be gentle."

Silence stretched, thick and electric. My hand hovered over the lock, shaking. I didn't move. I couldn't.

I waited behind the locked door, my back pressed flat against the wood, every muscle coiled tight.

My heart was beating so loud I was sure he could hear it through the walls. Minutes dragged like hours.

I waited until I could only hear the distant rumble of thunder fading into silence. He was gone.

Or so I told myself.

With shaking fingers, I turned the lock, slowly and silently, then eased the door open just a crack. The hallway was empty. Good.

I exhaled, a shaky breath of relief. The second I stepped forward, a hand shot out of the darkness like a striking snake, fingers clamping around my throat and locking me in place with terrifying precision.

The door slammed wide against the wall. Chase filled the frame, shirtless now, sweat still glistening on his carved chest and abs from what he'd been doing minutes ago.

His dark hair was wild, grey eyes blazing with something feral and victorious. The scent of sex and heat rolled off him, thick and overwhelming.

He pushed me back into the room without effort, kicking the door shut behind us with his heel.

"Oh, Little Lamb," he murmured roughly, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. "You don't know what you've done."

My back hit the wall beside my bed, his grip on my throat firm enough to pin me, loose enough that I could still drag in ragged breaths.

His thumb stroked once along my racing pulse, like he was savoring the proof of how much he terrified me. How much he affected me.

I hated that my body responded, heat flooding the apex of my thighs, my nipples tightening against the thin fabric of my sleep shirt, thighs pressing together against the ache he'd planted earlier.

"Let go," I managed, but it came out breathless, weak.

His lips curved into that cruel, beautiful smirk. "No."

He stepped closer, crowding me, his bare chest brushing my breasts through the cotton. The heat of him was scorching. His free hand braced against the wall beside my head, caging me completely.

"You watched me fuck her," he said quietly, each word cutting me like a blade. "Stood there in the dark like a needy little voyeur, getting off on it."

My face burned from shame. "I didn't-"

"Don't lie." His fingers flexed on my throat, a warning squeeze that made my breath hitch. "I saw your face. I saw how hard you were breathing, how you couldn't look away when I buried myself in her."

He leaned in, his full lips grazing my ear, voice dropping to a growl. "You were imagining it was you, weren't you? Bent over, taking every inch, screaming my name."

A helpless sound escaped me, half protest, half something shamefully close to agreement.

His thigh nudged between mine, forcing them apart, pressing right against the damp heat I couldn't hide. I gasped at the contact, my hips jerking involuntarily.

"That's it," he rasped, rocking forward once slowly. "Soaked already just from watching, from knowing what I can do."

I clawed at his wrist, trying to pry his hand from my throat, but he didn't budge. "I hate you."

"Yeah?" He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his own burning. "Good. Hate me while I make you come apart."

Then his mouth crashed onto mine. No gentleness. No hesitation. Only raw, punishing hunger.

He kissed like he wanted to devour every lie I'd ever told myself about not wanting this. His tongue took mine, demanding, dominating, tasting of whiskey and sin. I fought for half a second, teeth nipping, hands shoving, then melted against him with a broken moan I couldn't hold back.

He groaned into my mouth, grip tightening on my throat as his other hand slid down my body, rough and possessive, cupping my breast, thumb flicking over my nipple until I arched into him.

When he finally tore his mouth away, we were both breathing like we'd run miles.

"You opened the door," he said against my lips, voice ragged. "You let the wolf in."

His hand left my throat, sliding down between us and under the waistband of my sleep shorts without asking.

I grabbed his wrist, but it was too late. One thick finger dragged through my wetness mercilessly and I cried out, my legs nearly giving out.

"That's for watching," he growled. A second finger joined, pushing inside me with devastating ease. "This is for running."

He curled them and stroked once twice, his thumb circling my clit with merciless precision.

"And when you come screaming my name, Little Lamb," he whispered with his eyes locked on mine, a dark and triumphant glint in his eyes, "that's for thinking you could ever hide from me."

My head fell back against the wall, my hips rocking shamelessly into his hand.

I was already lost.

"Take my fingers like the dirty little slut you are," he rasped, his voice smoky and thick with lust, thrusting those two thick fingers in quick, brutal strokes that stole the air right from my lungs.

I cried out, my back arching off the wall as he drove deeper, curling them hard against that spot that made sparks explode behind my eyes.

Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed throughout the room.

"Chase? Baby, are you in there?" His girlfriend's voice.

Shit.