The living room at the end of the hall. Dim fire flickers in the fireplace, casting long, jagged shadows. He’s trapped.
I close the distance.
He turns.
Eyes wide. Panic. Real, raw, and delicious.
I step closer.
He freezes.
The bat falls from his hands.I see the shiver that runs through him, the rise and fall of his chest, the heat in the dark.
I’m close enough to count every freckle on his neck.
Every quick intake of breath.
I can hear him, feel him, taste the tension rolling off of him like waves against a cliff.
And for a second, time stops.
The fire casts a glow across his face. Vulnerable. Alive.
My prey looks beautiful like this.
I can feel it—the electricity between us. A storm waiting to break.
I lean in.
And just before the world tilts completely…
I stop.
I grab him by the throat and pin him to the nearest wall.
“Looks like you got caught, princess,” I say looking directly into his eyes through my mask.
Then I released him. He drops to the ground. Now sitting on his knees right in front of me.
The living room was a cavern of shadows, the only light bleeding in through the half-drawn curtains—dull, amber streaks from the streetlamps outside. It painted everything in sickly gold, the kind of glow that made the air feel thick, like breathing through syrup. I stood over him, my boots planted wide, my weight shifting just enough to make the floorboards creak beneath me. Jamie didn’t move. He kneltthere, right where I’d left him, his bleached-blonde hair sticking to the sweat on his neck, his hands flat on his thighs like some fucking obedient little altar boy. The fear is still visible on his face. But now the thrill of the idea that he might be getting fucked by me and the fact that we were both horny right now, made the situation even hotter.
It wasn’t part of the plan. But I guess I’ll have to improvise now.
I can hate myself for it, or keep telling myself how wrong is what I’m about to do.
But that’s a future me problem. Right now all I want to do is to show my stepbrother what I can do to him.
My cock had been hard since I saw him in that hall. Since I saw the way his fingers trembled when he tried to close thosewindows. Like he had a chance. Like he had a chance. Like he could save himself from what’s about to happen.
“You knew what would happen if you got caught,” I said, my voice rough, the words scraping out of me like rusted nails.
My fingers were already at my zipper, the metal teeth parting with a sharpclick. The sound made him flinch.
I didn’t give a shit.
Let him flinch.
Let him remember this.
