Chapter 2 My Brother Is A Monster
Before she could react, his mouth crashed against the delicate skin of her neck.
His lips and teeth pressed and nipped with a hungry insistence, leaving a deep, dark mark that bloomed like a permanent claim.
Emily gasped, shivering at the sting and the heat radiating from where he bit her, the growing bruise a vivid reminder of him.
He didn’t stop there. His lips slid down to her collarbone, dragging over the heated skin, teasing and devouring, before snapping back up to the sensitive spot at her throat.
His tongue flicked and licked over the bitten area, tasting the faint taste of her skin.
Emily’s back arched instinctively, moans slipping past her lips as he alternated between sucking, biting, and licking.
When he finally pulled back slightly, her lips were trembling, her body still quivering with need.
Without pause, he claimed her mouth in a rough, consuming kiss.
His tongue pressed boldly against hers, exploring, tasting, and dominating, while his hands roamed her back, pulling her impossibly close.
Every stroke, every press of his mouth against hers, was a claim, marking her as his in a way that made her shiver and ache all at once.
Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her into his arms. She gasped, clinging to him as he carried her bridal style through the house and up the stairs. She expected him to take her straight to the bedroom, but instead, he carried her into the bathroom.
Setting her gently on the counter, Sebastian stepped between her parted thighs, his presence dominating the small space. His hand slid from her ankle, tracing the delicate curve of her calf before gliding up the smooth line of her leg.
The hem of her dress lifted beneath his touch, baring more of her to him with every inch. Shivers broke out across her skin, her body stiffening under the rush of anticipation. Her breath caught in her throat, heart pounding wildly, bracing for the moment he would take things further.
But he didn’t.
Instead, his hand moved to cup her cheek again. His eyes softened, his voice lowering with unexpected tenderness.
“Did I hurt you last night?” His thumb brushed tenderly across her skin, his gaze clouded with worry. “I saw the wounds on you.”
Emily froze, startled by his concern. Her eyes softened, her heart giving a small, unsteady flutter at the realization. ‘He’s… worried about me?’
“What wounds?” she murmured, her voice low with confusion.
He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips before pulling back. “Wait for me here, baby.”
Moments later, he returned with a small box of bandages and ointment.
Setting them on the counter, he reached for her arm, carefully twisting it from side to side as his eyes searched for injuries, then moved to check her legs.
A few scratches marred her skin, along with a faint handprint he had left on her wrist the night before.
The sight made his jaw tighten, a deeply upset look flashing across his face. Yet when he touched her again, his grip was as gentle as before. His fingers traced over the wound with aching care before he smoothed ointment across it. Finally, he put the band-aids on her wounds.
As he finished, Emily’s eyes darted away from his, avoiding his gaze as her fingers fidgeted in her lap.
He stood tall, his shadow falling over her as he stepped closer. His head dipped slowly, lips aiming for hers, his breath brushing her mouth. She stilled, sensing it—then just as their lips almost met, the sharp chime of the doorbell cut through the silence.
Emily jerked back instantly, escaping his kiss. She slipped off the counter in a hurry, her heart hammering.
“Stop kissing me all the time,” she muttered under her breath, her cheeks flushed as she brushed past him and darted toward the door.
“Emily! Come back here.” His hand shot out, nearly catching her wrist, but she was too fast, already disappearing down the hallway.
He froze in place, a smirk tugging at his lips. Tilting his head back, he let out a slow, unsteady breath, his eyes closing.
“How can I stop kissing you when you’re this fucking tempting, baby,” he murmured under his breath, his voice hoarse with restraint. His length throbbed painfully in his trousers, aching with need.
He clenched his fists hard, nails digging into his palms as he forced himself to calm down. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, the effort it took to control himself written in the sharp tension of his jaw.
Meanwhile, Emily hurried downstairs, her bare feet barely touching the polished floor as she raced to the door. Her heart drummed against her ribs, partly from escaping Sebastian’s hold, partly from the sudden urgency of the bell. She yanked the door open.
Her eyes widened, shock flooding her face.
“Ha–Harold?” she stammered, staring in shock. “What are you doing here?”
But Harold didn’t answer.
Without asking permission, he stepped over the threshold, striding inside with a storm in his eyes. His steps were heavy, urgent, his face etched with panic.
Emily’s brows furrowed as she quickly followed him, confusion swirling in her chest. He stopped in the middle of the living room, spinning to face her.
She had barely reached his side when Harold suddenly seized her arms. He spun her from left to right, his eyes raking over her frantically. His face twisted with worry.
“Did my brother hurt you?” His voice cracked as he questioned.
Emily gasped, startled, staring at him with wide, bewildered eyes. “Harold, what are you talking about?”
But Harold didn’t listen. He grabbed her arm again, pulling her toward the couch with more force than he realized. She winced, a small sound of pain escaping her lips.
They both sank onto the couch. Harold turned sharply toward her, his expression full of concern. “Are you alright, Miss Emily? Is something wrong with you?”
Emily blinked, still disoriented by his sudden intrusion, and shook her head with a small shrug. “No… nothing is wrong,” she said quietly, her confusion lacing every word.
But Harold’s gaze didn’t stop. His eyes roamed restlessly—sweeping over her face, skimming down her neck, tracing her arms and legs.
Then his stare froze. His expression crumbled. His lips parted in horror as his eyes landed on the faint bruises, the ghost of a handprint, the fresh band-aids stark against her pale skin.
“My brother hurt you?!” His voice broke in disbelief, rising sharply. His eyes glistened as if tears were threatening. “How could he—how could he lay a hand on you?”
Emily parted her lips to protest, but Harold cut over her with raw emotion, his words tumbling out desperately.
“How could he hurt someone as gentle, as sweet, as beautiful as you? You’re like a fairy, a princess!” he choked out, his hands trembling as they clutched hers. “How could he bear to hurt someone like you?”
His voice cracked with sorrow, his whole body trembling. Harold lowered his head, nearly bowing over her hands as his grip tightened.
“Miss Emily… I’m so sorry!” he cried, his voice echoing through the living room walls, his pain shaking the air. “My brother is a monster!”
Emily winced at the sheer volume, her ears ringing. She quickly pulled her hands out of his grasp and caught his arms instead, shaking him roughly. “Harold! Stop crying. Sebastian didn’t hurt me!”
Harold froze mid-breakdown, his frantic eyes dimming, confusion replacing his panic. His chest still heaved, his lips trembling as though he didn’t know whether to keep crying or listen.
Emily sighed, softening her tone as she forced a small, reassuring smile. “I don’t even remember exactly how I got these, but Sebastian didn’t hurt me!”
Harold’s tears stopped as fast as they had come. He leaned closer, searching her face like he could peel away the truth from her skin.
“You are not lying to me?” he asked, his voice small and uncertain.
“Yes, I’m not lying!” Emily said gently, as if she were calming a frightened child. “I’m alright.”
Before Harold could answer, a deep voice cut through the house. “Who are you talking about?”
The sound of it made Emily’s heart jolt.
Both she and Harold turned toward the staircase. Sebastian was descending slowly, his sharp gaze flickered between them.
Harold jerked upright, springing to his feet as if caught doing something forbidden. Emily scrambled up after him.
The tears in Harold’s eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by a blaze of fury as he squared his shoulders.
“You brought a woman into your home without telling our family?” His voice trembled, half with anger, half with nerves. “I’ll complain to Aunt Camila and Mom. I’ll tell them everything you’ve done! How could you not even inform anyone in our family before getting married?”
In the next breath, Sebastian’s arm coiled around Emily’s waist. With a swift pull, he yanked her off balance. She stumbled forward, colliding with his chest, her breath catching as his body heat wrapped around her.
He kept her pressed tightly to him, her small frame caged in his hold. Sebastian lowered his head until his lips hovered by her ear, his breath hot against her skin. His voice was quiet but laced with intimacy and authority. “Baby, Harold is going to tell his mom about us today.”
Emily’s pulse raced as she stared up at him, caught in the intensity of his gaze. “What?” she whispered, barely able to process the words.
Sebastian’s gaze bore into her, his brows raised in a quiet, teasing challenge. “Any problem?”
Her face flamed, her throat tight. “N-No,” she blurted quickly, stumbling over the words. “I’m just… not used to being this close to you in front of people. Or telling them about… us.”
She tried to step back, but his hold only grew firmer, locking her in place. With effort, she twisted in his arms just enough to face Harold. A nervous laugh slipped from her lips. “Harold, I am married to Sebastian.”
Harold’s face fell. His anger drained, leaving sadness etched across his features. His gaze dropped, then lifted back to Emily with a heavy look. “I know. I heard it at the party.”
Then, without warning, he reached out, grabbing Emily’s hand and pulling her toward himself. She stumbled, her balance tipping as he tugged her close.
His face twisted with emotion as he turned toward Sebastian, his voice pleading. “Bro, can you please stop hurting Miss Emily? If you want, hurt me instead! I won’t say a word—I’ll take it all, every bit of it. Just don’t hurt her.”
Emily’s eyes widened, startled by the sheer desperation in his tone.
Sebastian’s expression darkened instantly, irritation flashing in his eyes.
In a flash, Sebastian’s hand snapped out, seizing Emily’s wrist and yanking her back into his chest. She gasped at the sudden motion, her body pressed tight against his again.
His arm slid firmly around her waist, locking her against him.
His cold gaze cut toward Harold. “Don’t snatch my wife like that again,” Sebastian said in a low, displeased voice.
His arm tightened possessively around Emily’s waist, the hard line of his jaw clenching as his eyes glinted dangerously.
“She is your sister-in-law. From now on, you’ll respect her. She’s not your friend anymore.”
Harold’s pleading face instantly shifted. Offense and shock twisted his features. His brows furrowed, and he shot Sebastian a glare, snapping, “No, I don’t want to. Miss Emily is my friend!”
Sebastian’s gaze sharpened. “Alright then,” he said coldly, “You’re going back to Canada tomorrow. For the next seven years, you’ll continue your studies there.”
A strangled, angry sound ripped from Harold’s throat, somewhere between a protest and a sob. His face reddened with frustration, his eyes glossing with tears.
He clenched his fists and, despite his rebellion, his gaze swung desperately to Emily. Through those unshed tears, he stammered out in surrender, “Sister-in-law… I-I’ll respect you from now on.”