Mated To My Obsessive Stepbrother novel Chapter 110

Chapter 110

KASMINE

“Fuck…” A curse ripped from his throat as his hands snapped to my waist, holding me in place, his fingers digging in just enough to make me gasp.

“You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was lower now, a bit darker. “This isn’t fucking easy. You think I don’t want to bury myself in you right now? Take you exactly the way know you need?” His fingers flexed again, and my breath hitched. “But I won’t do it like this. I won’t do it which I’m too fucking furious to control myself.”

1 leaned in, brushing my lips against his jaw, letting my volce drop to a whisper. “I don’t care.”

His breath hitched.

I pressed closer, feeling the heat rolling off his body, the tension crackling between us like a live wire. “Unless you want someone else to fuck me,” I murmured, my lips grazing the shell of his ear, “then walk away.

His entire body went rigid.

Bingo! I got him.

A muscle jumped in his jaw, his fingers tightening on my hips in a way that sent a delicious thrill up my spine.” Kasmine.” He warned. His voice was raw and strained as if I was pulling him apart from the inside out.

Iarched into him, letting my nails drag slowly down his chest. “I’m already high, Kester. Already wet. So unless you want someone else to take care of it…”

His hand snapped to my throat, tilting my chin up so I had no choice but to meet the wildfire burning in his black eyes. His breath was uneven, his pupils blown wide, his control fraying at the edges.

“You don’t fucking get to say that to me, Kasmine,” he growled, the sound scraping against my skin, sending shivers racing down my spine. “If I fuck you now, I won’t stop. I will make sure you don’t use your legs for two fucking days!”

“Maybe I want to see you try, Kester.”

“Fuck!” A vicious curse ripped from his throat. His grip tightened for half a second before he shoved himself away, turning his back to me like I was the one he needed to escape from.

“Wait for me,” he bit out in a rough, feral voice. “Don’t move. Don’t touch yourself. Don’t even fucking think about it. Or you’d regret it.” He said, storming out of my room.

Anticipation turned into nervousness as I waited for him, refusing to think about every messy shit that had gone down between us tonight.

I let out a slow breath, my pulse still hammering in my ears as I walked to the vanity. The mirror reflected the flush on my skin, the way my lips looked swollen. My fingers hovered over the small jar of makeup remover, but before I could pick it up, the door behind me creaked open

I jumped.

A sudden, unfamiliar nervousness curled in my stomach.

Slowly, I turned to face him.

My gaze met with the six–foot–three man standing by the door, and my heart skipped a beat at what he held in his hands — A bundle of dark fabric. A length of smooth rope. And something else I couldn’t make out.

7/2

“What… what is all that?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he smirked, stepping inside before shutting the door behind him. The soft click of the lock sent another shiver down my spine.

The command licked over my skin like fire, setting every nerve ablaze. He stepped back, unhurriedly undoing the buttons of his shirt, the slow flex of his muscles sending another rush of heat between my thighs.

My breath hitched as I obeyed, my hands trembling as I slid the straps of my dress down my shoulders. The Labric pooled around my ankles, leaving me in nothing but a lace thong.