Stepbrother's Dangerous Obsession

Prologue

Rock-hard abs. Cocky smile. Sculpted hipbones that scream filthy sex.

Liam Cage is walking torture for any girl in New York, but especially me.

My mother is married to his father and, on top of that, I'm living under his roof. I follow his rules. I'm nothing but his perfect angel, so I can't want him. I can't tempt him. I can't bait him into touching my half-naked body while I lie "asleep" on his couch.

... About that.

It was every kind of wrong, but I couldn't help myself. I stripped down for my stepbrother. Tortured him. Forced him to take out years of pent-up lust on my body in one sticky, sweaty shot. Long story short, I made the hottest mistake of my life, and I know there will be consequences, especially with a past like mine. But now that I've opened Pandora's box, there's no going back. Basically, I'm screwed.

But when it's with a man as painfully sexy as Liam, being screwed has kind of never felt so good

Author's Note

Hi my lovely readers,

I'm so grateful to each and every one of you who has taken the time to follow my story. Your support means the world to me!

Thank you for sticking with me. Lots of love from your favorite writer,

Monie

I let my long, brown hair spill over the side of the couch as I lay down. Once my shorts were hiked sufficiently up my ass, I tugged my pajamas top down, stretching the neckline until one naked breast popped out. The second I heard Liam's footsteps in the hall, my pulse picked up, and I pinched my nipple to get it nice and tight for him. My heart was pounding, my blood absolutely rushing. But with a smirk, I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.

I was going to fuck with him tonight. Hard.

Because he deserved it. He had me living in his house since my breakup last month. He had me following his rules. I couldn't speak to my ex, and I was banned from old friends who were bad influences. That was all fair enough, because it was more than true. But if he was forcing me to live with him, wasn't it some sort of basic etiquette to fuck his countless girlfriends a little more quietly every night? I mean every night.

And it wasn't even their moaning and screaming that bothered me. It was Liam. It was Liam and all the dirty, sexy, painfully hot filth he growled under his breath while his cock impaled whatever lucky girl was up against the wall between us. Take it... that's good, baby, suck it nice and wet for me. Fuck, just like that... swallow it, baby. Don't waste one fucking drop.

Then I always heard her moan like she'd just tasted a revelation.

It was torture. The deepest, wettest, most breathless torture every night. All I could do was lay there in bed, my hand in my panties, my mind flooding with fantasies of how I would never let any of Liam go to waste. It was incredibly shameful, but I'd had the dirtiest fantasies about him since the day I first laid eyes on him.

Honestly, how could I not? It was a dinner at my mother's house, and my seventeen-year-old self had opened the bathroom door to see his naked, sculpted ass before me. His muscles clenched and unclenched as he fucked a girl mercilessly against the wall. Not her pussy. Her mouth.

He was relentless and unforgiving, and neither of them noticed me at all. I'd opened the door just seconds before he exploded in pleasure, filling my ears with insanely long, deep, sexy grunts. The sounds tore straight from his hard chest and went straight between my legs. And it didn't stop there. "Let me see that tongue," I heard him mutter on my way out. "That's a good fuckin' girl."

God.

I'd basically been dreaming of being Liam's good girl since that day – which was bad. I knew it was. It was all so wrong and dirty, but the funny thing was that I was truly anything but. I was rigid, borderline innocent, which was why Liam grew so quickly and fiercely protective of me.

It was complicated, but my first everything came in college. First kiss, first base, first night of real sex. All of it happened sophomore year with Ethan, my first boyfriend. He was handsome, preppy, and two years older – the respected secretary of the oldest frat on campus. He was perfect and sweet until we got engaged two years ago. Then a switch flipped, and he became insane and controlling.

He came from old money and expected me to act like the perfect Stepford wife his family demanded. I was to wear only certain necklines. I was to never have more than a glass of wine in one night. I was never to sit, act, or speak with anything but the elegance of a duchess, and I could only associate with friends he approved of.

We had only missionary sex. I never came. He once said a woman's orgasm was irrelevant and that sex toys were for whores. Masturbation of any sort was forbidden. So I learned to fantasize and find pleasure in my sleep.

Of course, that led to a morning when I woke up to Ethan screaming in my face, launching spit in my eyes, furious that I'd moaned Liam's name in my slumber. He said I was never to see or speak to him again. I refused to comply. He screamed louder. I broke up with him. And here I was.

Liam knew the breakup had come because I'd said someone else's name in my sleep, but he didn't know it was his. Fine. I didn't need him to know that part. All I needed was for him to know that I sometimes had intensely sexual dreams, because the second he walked through his apartment door and saw me exposed on his couch, I was going to pretend to have one of those dirty little dreams right in front of him.

Like I said, I was going to fuck with him. As hard as I possibly could.

My heart slammed against my chest as I heard his shoes approach the door. I felt the cold air in his loft hitting my naked skin, making my nipple pebble even harder. My terry cloth shorts were hiked up so high they were putting delicious pressure on my clit. I could feel it pulsing deeper and deeper as Liam turned the doorknob.

I had seen the ways he ripped his stare off me when I came out of the shower or when I wore so much as a sports bra and shorts. I had heard him sock his friends in the other room when they mentioned his "hot stepsister" and her "perfect tits." I knew he thought of me in ways he refused to admit, because his friends hinted at it when they were plastered.

So as screwed up as it was, I couldn't wait for him to see me naked, even partially. Come on, Liam, come in and have a look. I kept my eyes shut, relaxed as I heard the heavy front door swing open. My heart slammed with every footstep.

Click. Clack.

Then silence.

"Fuck," I heard Liam breathe out hard.

I willed myself not to smile or smirk, but his lust was instant and audible, and I found myself praying that he would just lunge and pounce on me, grab me, fondle me, take my tits in his mouth, and suck until I came from the stimulation alone.

But he didn't. All he did was stand there. I lay there wondering if he was taking a mental picture. Or an actual picture? I wouldn't mind. Maybe Ethan had repressed me for too long, but I actually thrilled at the thought of my nudes in Liam's phone. I was turned on just thinking about his hand wrapped around his shaft, his veined bicep pumping as he jerked off to my image.

"Jesus Christ... Sasha," Liam finally whispered my name. I didn't stir. "Fuck," he cursed again, his neat footsteps quieter as he came toward me. "Sash. Babe." He sat at the edge of the couch. I heard him suck in a sharp breath. Every nerve ending in my body lit on fire as his hands slid under my backside to find the hems of my shorts.

He was covering me up, but I had made it impossible to do that without touching me where I wanted to be touched. Another string of profanity hissed through Liam's teeth as he pulled at the terry cloth, his fingers stroking my naked ass the whole way down. He shuddered. I heard and felt it, and I was sure I did not imagine the little groan that escaped his lips when his thumb brushed over my hot pussy.

"Fuck, Sash, you're killing me." His words confirmed his torment and made me laugh inwardly. Now you know how it feels, I thought, keeping my breathing steady as I felt the heat of Liam's stare move up to my exposed breast.

I could actually feel his tortured sense of obligation. And I loved it.

He felt the need to cover me up. He was my stepbrother, older by four years. He had protected me since the day he met me, and this moment was no different. But at the same time, he was a red-blooded man, and I had, in the words of his friends, "the most amazing fuckin' tits" that I knew his lips were desperate to suck on. "You know you wanna bury your face in there," I had heard his friend A.J. laugh one night. "You said it yourself, she's hotter than any of the girls you've ever fucked. You just don't have the balls when it comes to her."

It wasn't that.

Liam had the balls. He just had too much respect for me. And for once, I wanted him to lose some of it. I had had enough of being treated like a princess, a delicate flower, a doll, or a damaged little bird. I was done with that. I wanted to be taken and ravaged. I wanted Liam to help himself to my body, to look at me, touch me, squeeze me however he wanted.

But thus far, I was only getting the first part of that. Come on, Liam, I willed him to give in and break every unspoken rule I knew he had for me. Touch me, I begged him. I could practically hear him thrusting his fingers into his hair as he stared down at my tits.

"Fuck, Sash." His whisper was filled with the truest agony I had ever heard as he hovered above me. "Fuck, you're so goddamned gorgeous," he growled as he grabbed my neckline, squeezed the cotton, and pulled it up to cover my breast. No, no, no. Just like that, I was no longer indecent. Damn it, Liam, I cursed.

But I wasn't giving up just yet.

"Baby, please wake up." I could hear the desperation in Liam's voice as he touched my arm. But I kept my eyes closed and my smirk hidden. He thought he was in pain now, but I still had a world of hurt left for him.

Eyes closed, I sighed and stretched out on the couch in a way that had me springing free from my laughably flimsy top, right back to indecent. My back arched, presenting both my naked tits to Liam, soaking in the sounds of his tortured, ragged breathing as I proceeded to fake my sexy dream.

"Mmm," I breathed, my breasts bouncing as I relaxed from my stretch.

"Christ, Sash... Sasha, wake up." Liam came back to me. His hand cupped my cheek and patted lightly. "Sash. Babe. What did you take?"

Nothing. I used to take sleeping pills when I was with Ethan, but I had stopped. Liam didn't know that, which worked well for my act.

"Fuck, baby, don't do that." His pleading trailed off as he watched my hand slide down my terry cloth shorts, slowly starting to rub. "Sash, wake up, baby, please. I'm fucking dying here."

I didn't wake up for him. I writhed on the couch as I began rubbing my clit gently, giving myself only a fraction of the release my wound-up body was so desperately craving. I was dying to come in front of him, almost as much as I wanted to see what his handsome face looked like right now. I could just imagine Liam clawing at his short, dark hair, those dark green eyes probably glinting with thick lust and deep anguish. I got unbearably wet just picturing it.

"Christ," Liam hissed, pacing away and coming back. He repeated this several times until he decided he was going to stay. He was going to watch. The fire of his gaze sizzled against my skin as I groggily circled my clit. I moaned, grabbing my breast.

"This can't be real," Liam whispered as I gently fondled, lightly bouncing myself in my hand. He groaned louder. "Sash, you have got to be kidding me. You've gotta be fucking, fuck, Christ, babe, just fucking do it. Touch yourself for me, baby. Let me see you come."

Yes. He was losing control. I could hear it. I could hear the sound of rubbing denim as Liam rapidly stroked his cock. I had gotten him so hard he couldn't help but get off in front of me. Yes, yes, yes, Liam. Oh God, it was the worst thing I had ever done, but I had never been more turned on in my life. Apparently, neither had he.

"Baby, you're gonna make me come so fucking hard."

I was almost there myself. I was close to coming and I wanted so badly for him to touch me. I didn't want to blow my cover, but I couldn't help myself either.

"Liam," I breathed.