Chapter 29 - Avery
My legs were still trembling from what we’d done all morning. My thighs were covered in marks from his hands, my lips swollen from his kisses, and my insides ached thanks to the rearranging he did. Thankfully, my skin was no longer sticky with the mess he’d made of me—on me—since I’d showered.
I should have been disgusted with myself.
Instead, I watched him.
Rowen was in front of the stove, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, acting like it was a typical afternoon—like he hadn’t just spent an entire morning buried in his stepsister.
He seemed so relaxed, still high on me. I watched his back muscles flex when he reached or stirred something in the pan.
It smelled fucking amazing, and not just because I was draped in his t-shirt. Rowen could fucking cook. The scent of garlic and butter filled the air.
I was sitting on the counter, legs swinging, thinking about everything. Like how I should’ve run harder last night. Should’ve gotten out of his bed this morning rather than letting him drag me back under. Should’ve been somewhere else right now, trying to forget what he felt like inside me.
But here I was.
“I didn’t realize you could cook,” I said, trying to fill the silence.
It had been so quiet between us since the moans and skin slapping skin had stopped. It felt like Rowen was holding back, afraid to push me too far.
He looked over at me with a cocky grin. “How else will I replenish that energy so we can go again?”
I rolled my eyes. “God, you’re obsessed.”
He turned back to the stove, but I didn’t miss the way his smile widened.
“Hasn’t turned you away yet,” he said softly. “You’re still here.”
“You shouldn’t read into it,” I snapped, but my voice was soft, more playful than it had been.
He reached for a plate, filled it with food, and handed it to me, ignoring the feeling we were teetering on the edge of destruction. Like he wasn’t branded with my name. Like I wasn’t burning from the inside out for him.
“So, are we just playing house until they come back? Pretend like a normal happy couple?” I put the plate down and crossed my arms. “This isn’t normal. You’re my stepbrother.”
He walked over, putting himself between my legs. “You’re my obsession. What do you want me to say? That this has to end? That I don’t want to fuck you again? That I’m okay going back to the way things were?” He looked down. “I don’t exist without you, Av,” he whispered.
I hated how my breath hitched. “You’re insane.”
His hands covered my knees, thumb rubbing across my skin, warmth spreading throughout my body.
“Maybe,” he murmured, our eyes locking. “But I didn’t hear you complaining this morning.”
His hands stayed on my thighs, and I hated how much comfort I found in his touch.
“So how long?”
His eyebrow lifted. “How long what?”
“You said your obsession started a long time ago.” I looked him dead in the eye. “How long have you been obsessed with me?”
He looked down and pointed to a date on his chest.
“That’s…”
“Your birthday. The day we met.” His jaw flexed as he watched it hit me.
When I didn’t say anything, he continued talking.
“I’ve always been obsessed with you, Av.
There hasn’t been a fucking moment I didn’t want to be in your presence.
First as your brother, but then it changed.
It got intense. I hated listening to you talk about other boys at school.
I couldn’t stand the thought of you going on dates or…
kissing someone else.” He was breathing heavily, like even just talking about it was getting him worked up.
“When I saw you touch yourself for the first time, I realized I wasn’t just a protective older stepbrother. I wanted you. All to myself.”
I blinked slowly. “You… you saw me touch myself?”
He nodded once. “I warned you how fucked up I was, how deeply embedded you are inside me.”
My heart was pounding loudly in my ears. “Is that the worst of it?”
He tilted his head. “You won’t like it.”
I shrugged.
His eyes darkened with something dangerous. “You want the truth?”
I nodded.
He leaned in, close enough to feel his breath on my mouth. I bit my bottom lip, taking notice of the way my body was ready to roll into him, unaware I was hunting for answers, not sex.
“I’ve been watching you for years. When you weren’t home, I’d sneak into your room, go through your stuff, breathe in your smell, lie in your bed.
When you were home, I watched you eat. I watched you sleep.
Fuck, even when my dad kicked me out, I couldn’t stop.
You have no idea how many nights I stood outside your window, wanting to climb inside and get into bed with you. ”
“Wait. Your dad told us you wanted to move out. Why would he kick you out?”
“He caught me watching you.”
“Watching me what?”
“Touch yourself.” He shrugged nonchalantly.
I recoiled. “Tom saw me?” I shook my head. My stomach churned. “Oh my God. I can never look him in the eyes again. Oh my God.”
“He didn’t see you,” he said in a low, possessive voice. “I blocked the door. I wasn’t going to share you with anyone. He’s lucky he’s my dad. I might’ve beaten the shit out of him otherwise.”
“Jesus, Rowen,” I muttered, heart thundering.
“You’ve always been mine,” he stated plainly.
I didn’t say anything, couldn’t even if I tried. This was so fucking fucked up. Rowen had been watching me for years. He’d snuck into my room and watched me sleep. He’d been there the whole time. I just didn’t know.
I shoved his hands off me and slid down from the counter, my bare feet slapping on the hardwood floor.
I needed space.
Air.
Distance.
He just stood there, calm as could be, like we’d just been discussing the weather and not his years of stalking.
“This is—you’re insane,” I breathed, backing away with my hand on my forehead, feeling lightheaded. “God, Rowen. You snuck into my room. You laid in my fucking bed. You watched me touch myself? What the fuck? Oh my God. You realize how crazy this sounds?”
“I do.” He was so fucking calm, it made me want to scream and pull my hair out.
My chest was heaving, knuckles white as I fisted them at my sides.
“You didn’t say anything. You didn’t tell me. No, you just… watched, like a fucking psychopath waiting for the perfect time.”
He stared me down, a smirk on his face. “You still gave in. Even once you knew, you still let me do all those things to you.”
He took a step toward me, but I couldn’t make myself move.
Rowen was right.
I had let him. I let him chase me, touch me, use me.
And I liked it—loved it—but that didn’t excuse anything.
“I thought you were someone else,” I said slowly. I shook my head and pointed at him. “You tricked me. I didn’t know it was you.”
He put his hands up in surrender and took another step forward.
“I did. You’re right. I’m so sorry I lied to you.
” He was still closing the distance between us.
“I should’ve told you when I realized it was you.
That wasn’t fair of me, but this morning?
Last night? You knew it was me the whole time, baby. ” He reached for my hands.
I shook my head. “I tried to get away last night.”
“Did you?” He gathered my hands into one of his and brought his other hand to my neck, wrapping his fingers around my throat.
“I think you ran because you weren’t ready to admit you didn’t find me as repulsive as you should have.
You needed me to chase you down and force you to face the truth.
” He leaned in, our lips nearly touching.
“You are just as sick as me, Avery. You let me catch you. You let me claim you. And you let me do it all over again this morning.”
“It doesn’t mean anything. I don’t—” I struggled to find the right words. “You make me…” My heart caught in my throat. “I’m not me when I’m with you. I don’t know who I am around you.”
He was a giant walking red flag. His touch should’ve sent me running. Instead, I stayed, aroused by his palm against my throat, thighs clenching, wishing he would bend me over the island and rail me again, make me forget why I kept second-guessing everything.
“Let me show you.”
His lips landed on mine, and my hands flew to his hair, pulling him closer as something snapped in me. His breath was slow and steady, whereas mine came in shallow bursts. The need to push him away dissolved, my body and heart finally in sync. I was done running.
“Promise me I’m not just some dirty, kinky fantasy you’ll get bored with now that it’s real.” My emotions clogged my throat.
Rowen’s jaw ticked, his control barely there.
“You’re not a goddamn fantasy, Avery.” He kissed my lips.
“You’re my entire fucking world. The reason I get up every morning.
The reason I breathe.” I started to open my mouth, but another kiss quieted me.
“You really think I marked my body for a fantasy?” His voice was thick with frustration, but his eyes were soft and gentle.
He kissed my forehead, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me close.
“What we have is real,” he continued. “It’s fucking raw. It isn’t pretty. It’s fucked up.” His hands moved to my thighs, and he lifted me until my legs wrapped around his waist. “But it's ours.”
He carried me to the island and sat me down. His hands explored my thighs as he spread them with dark intention.
“Tell me who you belong to, kitten,” he ordered, voice low. He dipped his head, his eyes burning into mine.
My mouth was dry, my brain still screaming from its little buried box for me to resist. My heart swelled with emotion and my body leaned forward.
One of his hands slid up my shirt—his shirt. His palm scorched my skin, moving across my stomach and up to one of my breasts, stopping to knead it.
“Say it.” He tweaked my nipple, making me gasp.
“I—” I swallowed hard. “I’m yours.”
He moved quickly, as though my words had broken the dam he held back. He ripped my lacy thong from my body, pulled my ass to the edge of the counter, and looked at me with reverence in his eyes.
“This is so much more than obsession. I own you, Avery. Your cunt knows it. Your body knows it. Your fucking soul knows it.” My thighs shook in his hands. “Just look at you. Exposed. Wet. Desperate. And it’s all for me.”
“Rowen…” I sighed, my body crying out for him.
“Say my name again,” he demanded, moving his head between my legs, already licking his lips.
“Rowen,” I murmured again, just for him.