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My new stepbrother!
So you’re the charity case.
You wouldn’t survive the lesson.
Dante walked in.
I’m not a babysitter!
They’re going to think I’m fucking you.
This new guy was just... kind!
You’re really going to flirt with someone else in front of me?
I dare you!
You say that like you didn’t beg me to kiss you with your eyes.
Library. Now. Come alone.
Then why do I dream about choking the breath out of any guy who touches you?
How do you stop wanting your own stepbrother?
I saw what you wrote for me!
Hey, stepsis!
I slapped him.
Don’t pretend your body didn’t beg for more.
And then—his mouth crashed into mine.
Don’t pretend you didn’t love every second of my hands on you.
Dante’s stepsister. God, what a slut!
You’re embarrassing to be seen with.
He kissed her in the hallway and now he’s ignoring her. Classic Dante.
Touch him again, and next time, I’ll pour bleach in that pathetic little mouth of yours.
Did I say you could touch me?
Whatever I want.
His touch was what finally shattered my composure.
You can either strip it off, or I will!
You don’t get to touch her again. Not you. Not anyone.
Telling them all you’re mine!
You didn’t have to do that!
I shouldn’t have kissed you.
One more touch and I’ll ruin her. Completely. Beyond repair. Beyond recognition.
The hunger in me roared, a primal, untamed beast.
I kissed her. Hard. Possessive. Starving.
You want to stop me?
My hands roamed her wet skin, tracing the delicate curve of her waist, then gripping her hips, holding her impossibly close.
I rewarded her with a thrust of my fingers so deep, so precise, that she cried out...
Why are you shirtless?
New girl for him?
What the fuck is going on with you?
No. No, don’t you fucking twist this, Liana.
Stay the fuck away from me.
You treat me like a fucking stranger after what we did.
What the fuck was happening?
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You want to stop me?
Dante’s POV
I didn’t stop kissing her. Couldn’t. The notion of pulling away, of severing this agonizingly sweet connection, was anathema to every fiber of my being. Her lips, soft beyond anything I’d ever imagined, warm, responsive, yielded just enough, just often enough, to keep me starved, to...
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