“I hate you.”
I brushed my lips against her cheek, her jaw, her ear. “Youloveme, little sis.”
“No. I fucking hate y—”
“You hate how much youneedme,” I whispered.
She whimpered as my hand made its way up from her waist, fondling her breast under her shirt, her lacy bra keeping me from her soft skin. When she turned her face toward me, armed with more arguments, I kissed her.
Hard.
She bit my tongue instead of kissing me back, hard enough that I tasted blood.
I growled, shoving my thigh between hers and grinding down until she gasped against my mouth.
“Strike two, little kitty.”
“Go to hell,” she spat.
“I’ll drag you there with me.”
Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes, falling to the ground. They weren’t tears of fear, though; they were tears of shame. Avery knew she wasn’t supposed to want this. She just couldn’t help herself.
I smoothed her hair back, watching as her eyes fluttered shut. “You are mine, Av. I own every perfect fucking inch of you.”
Avery turned her head to the side, like she was trying to hide her face. She couldn’t hide from me, though. My little stepsister got off on being claimed, even when she pretended to hate me for it.
Her body was relaxed, all the fight seemingly gone, so I loosened my grip on her wrists.
She used the opportunity to swing at me again, catching the underside of my jaw with her nails, dragging little scratches into my skin. She shoved at my chest as hard as she could, teeth bared, coming at me like a ferocious animal.
“You don’t own me!” she screamed.
That was when the last tiny thread of restraint I’d been clinging to snapped.
“I do,” I snarled, voice low and shaking. “And I’ll prove it to you.”
Before she could twist away from me, I caught her wrists and shoved them down hard above her head, making her cry out, trapping them there in one fist. My other hand slid down her curves, catching her thigh and yanking it up around my waist.
Her eyes widened. “Don’t you dare—”
“Don’t what?” I pressed my hips into hers so she could feel just how fucking hard she made me, how much I loved our games. “Don’t show you what happens when you trick me? When you run?” My fingers dug into her thigh, making her mewl. “I’m going to punish you out here, and once I’m done, I’ll drag your limp body back home, where we’ll talk about whether you need to be cuffed to the bed for the foreseeable future or not.”
Her breath caught, pupils blown. She thrashed harder, but it was too late. Her body had already melted against mine the way I knew it would. The way it always did.
“You don’t get to leave me cuffed to the bed, steal my car, and run away like you don’t need me,” I hissed against her throat, nipping at the soft skin.
“I really do hate you,” she said as tears spilled down the sides of her face.
But her body was still betraying her. Her hips bucked up, grinding against me.
She was whimpering and biting her bottom lip.
I was tired of her lies.
I shoved her soaked panties to the side, pulled my sweatpants down just enough to slip my cock out, and drove into her with a single thrust.
She screamed, the sound full of fury but also relief. Her back arched off the ground, her body wanting me deeper, admitting what her mouth wouldn’t.
