Chapter Seven
Hannah
Irun to the bathroom.
Everything happened so quickly that I haven’t had a chance to process any of it. But the effect Vik has on me is already in full swing. I hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, and my skin tingles everywhere his hands have touched. My body craves more, burning for Vik to finish what he started.
It feels wrong now. It didn’t when we were pressed together. Or when he tugged on my hair and dipped me low. I’d been so ready to accept his kiss without resistance.
I’ve fantasized about exactly this over the past few days, but coming so close to making it a reality has rocked my world.
It makes me want him more than I’d ever admit out loud.
A desperate need surges through me, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, made all the worse by the dampness soaking my panties.
We shouldn’t be doing this. Not here. Not at his place. Not anywhere.
So why can’t I stop wanting him? Why can’t I shake these feelings he’s awakened inside me before something else takes their place?
I slip into one of the bathroom stalls and pull the door closed behind me. Before I can slide the lock into place, the door swings open.
Vik is standing there.
“Come out, Hannah,” he says.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not going anywhere—”
“Come out. Now.”
“Vik, I just need a second.”
“Hmm.” He keeps one hand on the door, making it impossible to close. “If you won’t come out, I’ll have to come in.”
Then, he steps inside.
The stall already feels cramped, but with Vik filling the doorway, I feel completely boxed in. He shuts the door behind him and closes the remaining distance until I’m trapped between him and the wall. A wicked glint fills his eyes, a devilish smirk tugging at his lips.
If we’d met under different circumstances, I might have found this playful. Instead, his smile says one thing while his actions say another.
“Vik, please leave me alone,” I say, but there’s no conviction behind my words.
I don’t want him to leave. As messed up as it sounds, I like him being here. With me. Pinned against the wall while he holds all the power.
“I’m not going anywhere, Hannah,” he says. “Not when I can’t trust you to make good decisions.”
“Good decisions?” I stare at him as though he’s lost his mind.
Then it clicks. His outburst wasn’t about wanting to kiss me.
He was jealous.
“Nothing was going to happen with him.”
“I know.”
His hands settle on my waist.
I swallow hard and rest my hands on his arms. That was not actually my intention, but everything about this is driving me wild. My teeth sink into my lower lip as my hands slide over the hard muscle of his biceps.
“Vik,” I whisper as his fingers trail down my dress, tracing my curves until they reach the hem. “We shouldn’t do this. It’s… it’s wrong.”
“Is it?” he asks.
His touch lingers against my thigh, and my body aches for more. One hand remains on my leg while the other catches the hem of my dress and slowly lifts it higher.
Every inch of fabric he raises feels like deliberate torture.
All I can think about is how much more I want. It’s the same overwhelming need I’d felt in his kitchen.
My body throbs for his touch, desperate for the unbearable heat he brings—and for the release that might finally follow.
A moan slips from my lips.
A low rumble answers from deep in Vik’s chest.
Trapped between the wall and his body, I couldn’t stop him if I wanted to.
I don’t want to.
I’m not frightened.
Just as before, my body accepts everything even though I know it isn’t right. It wants this now, regardless of the regret and shame that might come later.
“And what about this?” he asks, giving my dress a sharp tug.
I yelp as cool air brushes against my exposed skin.
Now I’m standing there with my dress bunched around my waist, exposed in nothing but a pair of black lace panties that leave very little to the imagination.
Vik leans back to study me, his tongue slowly passing across his lips.
“We...” I can barely think, let alone speak. His hand continues its slow journey up my body, making coherent thought almost impossible. Heat trails in the wake of his fingertips through the thin fabric of my dress. When they glide over my breasts, a sharp ache shoots through my center.
“We shouldn’t have anything to do with each other...”
My lips tremble. My legs shake. I’m on the verge of crying out, and he hasn’t even really touched me yet.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Vik’s hand moves over my breast, then traces the exposed skin from my cleavage to my chin. My neck arches back instinctively, overwhelmed but ready for whatever comes next.
He ignores my protest, just as he’s ignored all the others. One hand cups my face, using the leverage to pin me against the wall, while the other slides up my inner thigh, teasing the damp flesh on its way to its destination.
He lowers his head until his lips almost brush my neck.
I tremble with anticipation as he tightens his grip on my face.
His warm, husky breath washes over my skin.
His searching fingers find the edge of my panties, caressing the lace as they seek a way beneath it.
Every place he touches burns long after his fingers move on.
I haven’t been with anyone in so long that I’d almost forgotten how thrilling this could be. The sensations. The sounds. The scent of him. Everything heightens the sensory overload.
But it’s the anticipation that undoes me.
Knowing what’s about to happen. Wanting it. Waiting for it, yet having no control over when it will come.
“You’re fucking soaked for me,” he says.
Hearing my stepbrother speak so filthy and feeling the words against my neck flicks a switch in my brain.
I’ve tried standing on principles and stopping this, but I can’t now.
I want this and he knows it. Whether it’s from touching me or some other reaction I’ve given him, there’s no way I could convince either of us that I don’t want this.
“Does this feel wrong?” Vik finally asks.
His grip tightens around my face and he forces me back against the wall, almost lifting me off of the ground. The tenderness with which he approached my pussy vanishes into a raging inferno of lust.
He tears my panties to the side, pressing two of his thick fingers against my wet lips. He drags them from the bottom all the way to my clit, coating them in my arousal. Pressing firmly against the sensitive bundle of nerves, Vik starts rubbing slow circles over it.
I choke on my moans, knowing that someone could overhear this only a few feet away.
My legs buckle from the overwhelming euphoria coursing through me, but Vik doesn’t take that as a sign to stop.
He pushes my legs apart, and guides his fingers to my entrance.
He hasn’t said a word since he started, but I see him staring at me from the corner of my eye.
He inspects my every facial twitch, as if studying what he can do to make me break.
“Oh fuck,” I cry out, as his fingers slide inside me. Satisfied by my reaction, Vik pulls them out carefully, before slamming them into my depths again.
“Didn’t think so,” he says.
But the original question he’s answering is lost in the back of my mind. This is wrong, a meaningless phrase I should never have dared to utter.
I suck Vik’s thumb into my mouth to silence the noises about to erupt from me. He growls in approval while I come undone around his fingers. I roll my hips in time with his thrusts, finding a rhythm that takes his fingers as deep as they’ll go.
I clamp my eyes shut to prevent them from rolling into the back of my head as the first orgasm crests. My hands instinctively find their way to Vik’s belt, and I tug on the thick leather.
More. I want more. Why stop here when we’ve already devolved to this level?
But just as quickly as it started, Vik pulls away. Realizing I’m asking for more seems to change his mood entirely. His wicked smirk vanishes and is replaced by the stone-cold expression he usually wears.
He clears his throat, lets go of my face and uses both of his hands to smooth my dress back into place. Then he lingers for a moment, standing far too close as he stares deep into my eyes.
“I’ll see you at home,” he says at last, before leaving without another word.
Regret crashes over me like a tsunami.
It’s bad enough that I let my stepbrother touch me like that. Worse still, I wanted more. I wanted to take our relationship to places reserved for the smuttiest pornos.
What the fuck was I thinking?
I wasn’t, and that’s the problem.
As I make the walk of shame back to Lindsey, who’s still talking to the guy who picked her up at the bar, I know this can’t happen again. No matter how incredible it feels in the moment, it won’t do either of us any good.
God knows it won’t be easy.
But I’ll have to stay strong.