Chapter 1 What Belongs to Me

ZAYN

I watch from my bedroom window like a fucking stalker, balling my hands into fists so I won't punch through the goddamn glass while Carl, my sister's 'golden retriever' boyfriend, kisses her goodbye.

Ashleigh is seated on the trunk of his stupid, fancy truck, her legs spread apart while he stands between them, sticking his tongue in her mouth.

His hands are on her thighs… my thighs, sliding up under her skirt like he has the fucking right.

My teeth grind together.

Fucking loser.

I can bash his skull in with the baseball bat under my bed and sleep like a baby after.

She's mine, no matter what game she plays. She has screamed it into my pillow, she has clawed it into my back. Hell, she has sobbed it while I was buried so deep inside her she forgot the English Language. And now, there she is, letting that prick put his disgusting mouth on her. Letting him touch what belongs to me.

I stay at the window, literally counting the seconds until their little make-out session ends and his stupid truck disappears down the street.

Then, I count her footsteps on the stairs.

The moment her shadow crosses my door, I wrench it open, grab her wrist, and drag her inside, pinning her against the wall.

She gasps, staring at me with those huge brown eyes.

"What. The. Fuck. Ash?" I hiss through my teeth.

Her expression goes flat as she pushes at my chest, slipping out of my hold.

"You do realize I have to invite him over, right? I can't claim he's my boyfriend without our parents meeting him. And he's been asking."

She crosses her arms. "If not, people will start asking why I'm not dating, why you're not dating... why I don't bring boys home." Ash pauses. "We can't have them suspecting anything between us."

"Let them suspect it," I mutter nonchalantly.

"Zayn." Her tone is sharp as she cocks her head, giving me that disapproving look.

"What?" I snap. "We're not even blood-related."

"Ouch." She pushes my chest again, moving to the window. "Thanks for the reminder that I'm just the stray you guys picked up."

My face softens. "No, come on, Ash. You know I didn't mean it like that." I say gently, following her to the window.

My parents adopted Ashleigh when she was ten. Even back then, as a twelve-year-old preteen. I remember thinking she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen… all big brown eyes and brown hair.

Standing behind her, I lower my chin to her shoulder, breathing in her scent of coconuts, as my hand slides around her waist.

She doesn't push me away this time.

"You were watching us, weren't you?" she asks quietly.

"That's what big brothers do."

"Big brothers don't spy on their sisters with their boyfriends," she replies flatly, stepping out of my arms and leaning back against the windowpane.

"Big brothers don't fuck their little sisters the way I fuck you, either." I counter, tilting her chin up so I can stare into her eyes. "But here we are, baby."

She tries to turn away, but I grab her by the waist and pull her against me.

"I don't want to see his hands on you again."

I lick the outline of her ear, then run my tongue down the side of her neck slowly.

She shivers.

"Watching him touch you made me want to break something. Preferably his face."

I pull back to look into her eyes. "You haven't slept with him yet, have you?"

Ash frowns, looking up at me. "I'm not discussing my sex life with my boyfriend with you."

The way she dodged the question makes my temper flare all over again.

"The answer was supposed to be no, Ash." I gruff out, my jaw ticking. "Tell me you haven't let him between your legs."

She ducks under my arm and walks toward the bed. That stupid little skirt swishes with every step, flashing the bottom of her ass.

My cock grows hard until the image of Carl's hand crawling up her thighs plants itself in my mind, and the anger comes roaring back.

"Carl is my boyfriend," she says over her shoulder. "Whether I sleep with him or not isn't your business."

I laugh dangerously because she has to be joking. "Keep talking like that, and I'll bend you over my knee and spank the attitude right out of you."

Ash blushes before going silent for a moment. Then she lets out a slow breath. It's the kind that always comes right before she drops a bomb.

"Listen, Zayn…"

I already hate the way she says my name. I know exactly where this is going.

"You're getting too possessive." Her fingers absent-mindedly trail along the edge of my shelf before running over a state championship trophy. "We fuck, yeah. A lot. But that's all it's ever going to be. We can't be a thing, and you know why. It's wrong."

Ash doesn't look at me when she says it.

"Maybe you should try with Maya," she adds quietly. "Like I'm trying with Carl. I see the way she looks at you."

My anger spikes.

"You did not just say that," I hiss through my teeth. "That fucking Boy Scout couldn't find your clit with a map and a flashlight."

She glares at me before wrapping her arms around herself like the room is cold.

"I'm tired of deceiving Mum and Dad," she says. "They still think we're… normal. Brother and sister. Proper family."

Brown eyes lift to meet mine. "And I'm tired of you acting like you own me, Zayn. Carl's sweet. He's easy. What I have with him is normal."

"Normal," I spit, walking over to her. "Normal," I repeat with disdain. "You don't want 'normal,' Ashleigh Grace. You never have."

I run a hand over my buzzcut and pull off my T-shirt, exposing my ripped, tattooed torso. Ashleigh's eyes drink in the sight.

"You want this," I smirk evilly, inching even closer till she has to tilt her head back to hold my stare.

"You want someone to leave bite marks deep enough to scar the inside of your thighs... Someone who makes you come so hard you weep."

"Zayn," Ashley scolds, her cheeks reddening. "Stop."

"You want me." I continue. "The one who looks like all he brings is trouble and fucks you like there's no tomorrow."

She doesn't back away, and I take it that she agrees with me.

"Don't kid yourself, baby girl. You're not made for vanilla."

Turning, I saunter to the other side of the room, feeling Ash's gaze on my back, and sink slowly into the armchair by my bed, spreading my thighs.

"Now take off the skirt and get over here, little sister," I command. "You know exactly how I want you."

Ash freezes for a second. I can almost hear the fight in her stubborn little head… the part that's dying to obey. Her need versus her pride.

The same war, every damn time.

But in the end, need always wins.

She gives in and shimmies out of her skirt without a word.

I smirk proudly.

That's my good girl.

Ash is left in her crop top and the flimsiest piece of lace I've ever seen in my life, that is pretending to be panties.

It's so scandalous it shouldn't even qualify as underwear.

I'm mildly pissed that she wore it for Carl, that she even thought about letting him see it. But it doesn't matter because right now, she's with me. And I'm the one who gets to take it off her.

She comes over until she's between my spread thighs, goes on all fours, and turns her back to me.

I don't need to tell her what to do. I never have to when she's in trouble.

Every time she pushes my buttons, she ends up getting spanked.

Slowly, she arches properly, her chest and cheek pressing to the rug, with her ass lifting high, presented right in front of my lap.

Fucking perfection.

I lean forward and grab the backs of her thighs, dragging her closer, pulling her lower body up and toward me so that it settles around my waist.

From my seat, I'm looking straight down at her perfect ass and the way the white lace thong disappears between her plump ass cheeks.

I can also see that she is already soaked; the strip of fabric that crosses her pussy is wet with her juices, clinging to her slit.

Fucking hell.

I hook a finger under the string where it dives between her cheeks and start pulling, slowly. When it clears her asscrack, I keep going, lifting the soaked front part away from her pussy entirely.

The lips I just exposed, part on their own, slick and dripping wet.

I haven't even spanked her yet, and she's already drenching me. Such a slut.

"Has he ever made you this wet, Ash?" I ask in a teasing tone, running a finger through her slit.

"She shakes her head frantically. "N-no."

The answer pleases me, and I lower my voice to a seductive rasp. "Good. You won't be able to walk straight after I'm done reminding you who this pussy belongs to."