Page 48 of Deceitful Promises

“I thought we were sort of avoiding that,” I tell him. “A couple of kisses …”

“I want more,” he groans. “So much more, but you’re young. You’re my stepsister, and your brothers aren’t exactly fans of me.”

“None of that matters. Only here. Now. Let’s just hold each other.” My cheeks feel like they’re actually about to set on fire. “Can’t we worry about all the rest later?”

“Okay, but first, let’s finish this.”

He puts the plate on the bed between us and then loads up a stick. My belly already feels full, but every time he looks at me, it’s like strength floods into me—support, the knowledge that I can do this. I can be this new version of myself. I know it won’t bethiseasy. I know there will be setbacks, but a new future feels possible for now.

CHAPTER 21

AIDEN

Ilie awake with Ania in my arms, listening to her soft breathing. She feels so tiny and delicate in my arms. She feels like she needs so, so much protection. Weirdly, despite all the chaos, I feel far more peaceful than ever before. Maybe it’s the in-and-out of her breaths, like waves lapping on a shore.

However, the savage in me refuses to rest. My groin aches, and passion flares through me. I’ve been hard ever since I climbed into bed next to her. I’m flooded with passion, need, and emotion. It’s a hell of a mix. She murmurs in her sleep, snuggling closer to me.

At least she’s resting. That’s what I have to remember. No matter how difficult this is for me—resisting the urge to claim her over and over—this is what’s best forher. Plus, she hasn’t been to the bathroom since eating that food! That’s a win.

But my groin won’t stop pulsing. The lust won’t stop expanding. Fuck. I want her tight body so badly. She’s a virgin. Nobody else has ever touched her. She belongs to me, just me—nobody else.

No, no, what am I thinking? Dammit.

I try to sleep, letting my eyes fall closed, but the darkness of my eyelids is like a projector playing a movie. I see Ania dancing around a studio flooded with light. I hear her laughing as she spins, her athletic, gorgeous legs cutting shapes across the studio.

She murmurs again, her hand sliding under my shirt, tickling my bare skin. Sudden heat flares into me. My dick pushes against my underwear, precome making me sticky.

“Ania,” I whisper.

“Hmm,” she moans, her hand moving over my stomach, then down.

“You’re not awake.”

“I am,” she says in a sleepy voice.

“You’re not,” I say firmly, knowing she might not be so forward if she were really awake.

She slides her hand down toward my crotch. I shudder as she gets closer and closer, my manhood so hungry for her touch, my desire making me somehow thicker, somehow harder. My heart pounds, anticipating what comes next.

It takes everything I have to grab her wrist before she can slip under my beltline.

“Hmm,” she moans insistently. “Let me.”

“I want to … so badly, but not like this.”

“Like what?”

She starts shifting her body against mine, and her graceful movements make the hunger even more challenging to resist. I keep my hand on her wrist so she can’t stray down to my manhood, but that doesn’t stop me from noticing the way her breasts rub against me, her body moving one way then the other like she’s trying to dance me into the lust.

“Remember my fetish?”

“No?”

“I like it when women pretend to be asleep.”

She giggles in that intoxicating way of hers. “That’s pretty creepy.”

“Can you do it for me?”

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