Do I leave?
Maybe I can pretend I’m here with someone?
They wouldn’t follow me if I latched onto another student.
With my plan in mind, I turn to the opposite end of the aisle, quickening my steps while making my footfalls light so as not to draw attention. I’m getting close to the end of the shelves, and my heart soars.
Almost out of here.
I get one foot past and closer to my freedom before a tall figure rounds in front of me. I stop dead in my tracks, my lips parting in a scream before a gloved hand slaps over my mouth, and I’m shoved back into the bookcase. It rattles, sending research journals tumbling to the floor as I wildly bat at the person. Leather invades my senses, and I bite into the clothed hand covering my lips.
He snatches my wrists tightly, shoving them above my head as his hips mesh with mine, and he kicks my legs apart.
“No!“ My scream is muffled by his glove, and I finally get a look at my captor. He’s in the same dark clothing as before, a thick hood drawn over his head, and some cloth pulled up past his nose. All I can see are his green eyes, but even in my frantic state,I can’t make any connections. All I can think of is how to get away from the man holding me so tightly that my wrists are going to bruise.
His head tilts, as if he’s contemplating what to do with me. My pulse screams in my ears, and I can feel fresh tears threatening to spill.
He backs me further into the shelf, positioning himself between my legs as something hard grinds against my core. In the process, his sleeve pulls back a little, and I catch a sliver of a tattooed wrist.
Familiarity strikes. Everything slows. The world around me ceases to exist at this very moment, because I’m pretty sure my brother, who has been MIA at home, has been following me around campus and currently has me held against my will. I’m his captive—as if this is some sick game to him.
I’ve always prided myself on being able to piece bits of information together easily. Reading situations for what they are is a gift, and the conversation I had with my brother before I started college circles back to me. I told him that knowing what was going on was bothering me.
And this is his way of making it seem like I don’t know. He has no idea that he’s already given himself away with one simple move, but he doesn’t need to know that…
Is it sick? Yes.
Will it stop me from taking hold of that freedom and finally doing something about the steamy, vulgar dreams I have when I’m alone at night?
No…
It won’t stop me. Because Idon’t know. I have no idea that it’s Kaden behind that mask. I’ll live in this illusion that he’s created because I can’t come to terms with the fact that I’m soaked. Knowing that my brother is leering over me, ready to risk everything just to have me, makes a disgusting arousal course through my veins. If he wants to play this game, then may the best sibling win.
My tears haven’t receded, and it’s the act I need to keep him in the dark. I blink my eyes, letting the wetness track down my cheeks and taint his glove. My face twists with agony, all of it a byproduct of the character I’ll play to let us have this.
He shushes me, something modulating his voice into a tone I don’t recognize. It’s a few baritones deeper than his normal timber, giving him the mark of someone unrecognizable. I silently commend his efforts—he’s putting his all into this.
“Don’t scream or I’ll gag you,” he commands, making goosebumps pebble my flesh.
I nod against his hold, a whimper leaving me as his gloved hand slides down to my throat. My lips part, only for me to suck in a breath as he squeezes my neck. Dark specks dance across my vision, and I have to bite back my moan. I love it when he does that. It’s like he’s staking claim over me in the rawest way he knows how.
“If I let you go, will you fight me?” He asks, his voice dipping into a purr.
My lips tremble as I force the word past them. “No.”
His chin tilts, those deep pools of emerald chasing my eyes. “We both know that’s a lie.”
My throat moves in a gulp, but I don’t respond. Not when he’s looking at me like he wants to devour me whole.
He releases my wrists, and I spring into action. I plant my hands on his chest, trying to shove him away as my head thrashes. It’s a quiet battle that I know I’ll lose, but I’m not trying to win. Not right now.
He keeps me in place with his hips, lazily removing the glove from his left hand—another indicator that he’s Kaden. My brother is left-handed, and this only deepens the truth. I catch the sight of fresh ink across his knuckles, my interest piqued at the 0-0-0-1 engraved into his skin.
What does that mean?
“I’m going to taste you,” he warns in a growl before shoving his hand down the waistband of my tights. I gasp at the intrusion, biting down hard on my bottom lip as his thick fingers curl between my folds. No one has ever touched me there, and it makes fractals explode across my senses as he slicks a finger through my arousal.
“You’re so fucking wet for me…” he trails, mesmerized by the heat. He’s staring at where we meet, completely enraptured by me. “Do you like this?” He taunts dangerously. “You like having my fingers inside of you?”
