Page 10 of Curvy Girl for the Stepbrother

“Fuck!” he roars as his own climax follows in hot, pulsing waves I can feel jetting into me.

After, we lay tangled together, fighting to catch our breath. Ethan brushes damp strands of hair from my face, his touch impossibly gentle now. Amazement and satisfaction war in his gaze.

"I knew it would be like this," he says softly, almost to himself. "From the moment I saw you..."

My heart flips at the raw honesty in his words. Though a part of me always sensed our connection ran soul-deep, its power still rocks me. This is more than physical—it's a joining of hearts and souls.

For a moment, I forget that he’s my stepbrother.

Soft morning light filters through the curtains as I blink awake, momentarily disoriented. Ethan's muscular arm is draped possessively over my waist, his breath tickling the nape of my neck.

Memories of last night flood back—the desperate kisses, the slide of sweat-slicked skin, the almost unbearable pleasure. I flush, desire already stirring despite my nerves.

Did we really just...? My stepbrother, the man I shouldn’t be with... It seems unreal, yet the delicious ache in my body tells me otherwise.

Ethan stirs, pulling me tighter against his chest. "Mmm, Lila," he murmurs, voice gravelly with sleep. "Please tell me this isn't a dream."

I turn in his arms to face him, my heart fluttering at the vulnerability in his eyes, such a contrast to his usual confidence. "It's not a dream," I assure softly, cupping his jaw. "But what does it mean for us, Ethan? Everything's changed..."

He captures my hand, pressing a kiss to the palm. "It means you're mine now. I'm not letting you go, not after I've finally had a taste." His gaze darkens with intensity. "I want the whole world to know you belong to me."

Apprehension slices through me. "Ethan, we can't. Think about our parents. They'd never understand." I sit up, holding the sheet to my bare chest. "Maybe this was a mistake..."

He surges up, gripping my shoulders. "Don't say that. This could never be a mistake. You’re mine, Lila. Can't you feel it?" His thumb strokes my bottom lip. "I’m never letting you go," he vows.

I tremble under the heat of his stare, the conviction in his words weakening my resolve. How can something so wrong feel so incredibly right? "I...I just need time to process this. Us. Can we please keep it between us for now? I'm not ready for everyone to know."

Ethan looks like he wants to argue, but he finally sighs instead, his grip gentling. "Alright, baby. I'll be your dirty little secret...for now." A wicked glint enters his eye as he draws me back down. "But in this bed, you're all mine. And I plan to show you just how much, over and over again."

Any protests dissolve under the onslaught of his mouth, his touch reigniting the fire between us. As he rolls me under him, I surrender to the exquisite fall, knowing I'm lost to him…

eight

. . .

Ethan

The clink of silverware against porcelain cuts through the heavy silence at the dining room table. My jaw clenches as Lila pointedly avoids my gaze, her eyes fixed on the plate in front of her. The tension between us is so thick, it's suffocating.

I can't take this anymore. She's been avoiding me for days, ever since that night she gave herself to. I need to feel her soft curves pressed against me, hear her breathy moans in my ear as I claim her as mine once more.

Fuck some sense into that stubborn, sexy little head of hers. Remind her who she belongs to.

Lila

I can feel Ethan's eyes boring into me from across the table, but I refuse to meet his intense stare. My face flushes as flashes of our forbidden tryst assault my mind—his strong hands gripping my hips, the rough drag of his stubble against my sensitive skin, the delicious ache between my thighs...

No. I can't think about that. What we did was wrong. He's my stepbrother for god's sake. I try to focus on the conversation between Mom and Richard, something about their upcoming anniversary party, but Ethan's presence is inescapable. It's like every nerve ending in my body is attuned to him, hyper-aware of his every move.

I nearly jump out of my skin when I feel his foot brush against my calf under the table. My wide eyes dart to his, and the heated look he gives me sends a shiver down my spine. He slowly drags the toe of his shoe up my leg, his intentions unmistakable.

Abruptly, I stand, my chair screeching against the hardwood floor. "May I be excused?" I ask, my voice trembling.

"Lila, are you alright dear?" Mom asks, her brow furrowed in concern. "You've barely touched your food."

"I'm fine," I mumble, not meeting anyone's eyes. "Just not very hungry. I think I'll go lie down for a bit."

I jet out of there before anyone can protest.

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