“Be grateful?” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper,
“Yes.” He exhaled, rubbing his temple like he was bored. Like this wasn’t a big deal. Like ruining someone’s future was just another day for him. “I could’ve done worse. He should count himself lucky. You should, too.”
“Lucky?” My breath hitched, my fury boiling over. “Why the hell can’t you just leave him alone, Kester? What is your goddamn problem?!”
His expression shifted-just slightly. The amusement faded, and something colder settled in its place.
“Because he touched what’s mine.” He bit out, glaring at me as if daring me to take this further than I already was. I whispered, “You’re being ridiculous.”
Kester tilted his head, his lips curling into something darker, uglier. “Am I?”
I forced myself to breathe. Forced myself to keep my voice steady, my anger from twisting into something that felt too much like fear.
“So what, Kester? You’re going to keep ruining his life just because he exists? Because he’s my friend? What’s next? Are you going to kill him?”
The words were meant to be an exaggeration.
But the look in his eyes-
The way his lips twitched, just barely-
It made my blood run cold.
“Yes, Kasmine,” His voice was soft, too soft. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do – kill him.”
I took an involuntary step back, but he followed, closing the space between us with slow, measured steps.
“Because at this point, Kasmine,” he continued, his voice almost thoughtful, almost gentle, “the only reason he’s still breathing is because of you.”
I stopped breathing.
“But…” he exhaled, tilting his head slightly, “You’re also the reason I want to kill him.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“Kester.” I forced his name past my lips, barely recognizing my own voice.
His dark eyes flicked over my face, watching me intently.
“I’ve already gotten to that point,” he murmured. “So tell me, Kasmine-how much longer do you think I’ll let him live?”
I was quiet. No words came out of my mouth anymore. Because Kester wasn’t looking at me like a man ready to argue anymore..
Something shifted in the air so suddenly it made my breath catch.
His eyes weren’t cold now. They were dark-darker with something that made my stomach tighten. The tension between us twisted into something else entirely.
His gaze dragged lower.
And then I realized.
The dress.
A slow exhale left him, his fingers flexing like he was holding back. His jaw twitched. His gaze traced the length of my bare legs, moving up, lingering on the curve of my hips, my waist.
My skin heated under his stare.
Then his fingers brushed the hem of my dress. Just barely. But it was enough to send a bolt of awareness through ine.
“Kester,” I whispered, my voice barely there.
“I love how you tremble when I touch you-how I make you fall apart.” He leaned in and whispered into my ears. He was so close that I was scared someone might catch us.
“Someone might see us. What are you doing?” I swallowed, hating how my body betrayed me.
“Carrying out my intent.”
I was truly getting addicted to my brother, And it was wrong on all sides.
My lips parted, my mind scrambling to process what that meant
“You’re not leaving here until I’ve had a piece of you.” He said as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer. And I stumbled, caught completely off guard as he guided me toward his chair.
He sat, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he made me stand right beside him, facing his desk-facing the screen of his desktop as if he were about to show me something. But his touch told a different story.
His fingers slid to my back, over the fabric of my dress, slow, teasing, His palm pressed against my hip, then trailed lower, grazing the bare skin of my thigh.
I exhaled sharply.
My hands braced against the desk, my body betraying me as heat curled low in my stomach.
“Kester,” I managed, my voice weaker than I wanted it to be “Someone might see us.” I reminded him, in case he hadn’t heard me the first time.
His lips tilted slightly.
“No one will.” His voice was low, almost hypnotic.
And I knew he wasn’t lying
The way his office was arranged-the placement of his desk, the angle of the blinds-anyone looking in from outside would only see me standing beside him, his computer screen hiding what his hands were really doing.
And his hands were
Gods.
They were sliding higher.
My thighs tensed, my breath catching as his fingers traced ow, feather-light circles against my skin, coming to a. stop in between my thighs.
He mulged slightly, urging me to part them. And I obeyed shamelessly obeyed.
His other hand curled around my wrist, guiding my palm to rest against the desk as if wordlessly telling me to stay right there.
His fingers traced over the thin scrap of fabric covering my center, pressing just enough to feel the damp heat waiting for him. A smirk formed on his lips, “Good girl,” The words slid past his lips, dripping satisfaction, possession, and delight when he found out that I had worn the thong he picked for me. It barely covered anything
He flicked his middle finger over my wet pussy, and my knees almost buckled at the sensation that ran through
“Kes… We should…” The words halted midway when he pushed the flimsy thong to the side, exposing my pussy to his hungry fingers,
A tremor wrecked through me.
My fingers curled against the desk.
“We could… take this… home-“
A strangled moan broke past my lips as he slid deeper, curling just right, his thumb circling my swollen clit in a maddening rhythm.
He was watching me, taking in every reaction.
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