My Alpha Stepbrother's Dirty Secret

My Alpha Stepbrother's Dirty Secret

Sugaredpen · Completed · 236.5k Words

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Introduction

"HIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT s*x SCENES, POSSESSIVE ALPHA ENERGY, AND INTENSE EMOTIONAL TENSION. READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED.
"You stood there and watched me stroke myself to the thought of you… and you liked it. Didn't you?"
"You're wet," he growled. "Just from words. Just from me saying your name while I came."
When Liana Rivers fell into bed with her brooding, dominant, dangerously irresistible stepbrother, Killian Wolfe, she gave him everything, her heart, her body, her virginity.
But when she discovered she was pregnant and found out he was engaged to another woman, she ran quietly, carrying a shattered heart and a baby he would never know.
Now, seven years later, she's a struggling single mom working as a hotel janitor, doing everything she can to hide her past, and her son, from the ruthless Alpha who broke her. Until one night, he finds her again. Richer. Darker. More powerful than ever. And he wants her back.
Killian isn't just here to play house. He wants control. Of her life. Her body. Her son. And this time, he's not asking.
She ran from him once. But now that he knows the truth… He'll burn the whole damn world to keep what's his.

Chapter 1

  LIANA'S POV

  I was nineteen years old when I walked in on my stepbrother jerking off in the bathroom‚ groaning my name desperately.

  I hadn't meant to stay awake. I had just wanted to get a glass of water from the kitchen when I heard it.

  Loud and clear.

  My name.

  "Liana... f-fuck..."

  I froze‚ my heart thumping wildly in my chest.

  It was late that night‚ exactly 3 a.m. The house was quiet.

  Killian had come home for a short visit after being away for a year because of work‚ though to this day I still had no idea what kind of job he actually did.

  He didn't live with us. He had his own house across town and rarely visited. He only showed up on special occasions or when his mother insisted. Since the day my dad married his mom‚ I had only seen him twice.

  I still clearly remembered the first time I laid eyes on him that year‚ three years ago. My jaw nearly hit the floor. He looked like a walking Greek god‚ every inch of him giving off power and confidence‚ the kind you couldn't fake.

  But he never noticed me. He treated me like I didn't exist. It hurt more than I expected‚ but I tried not to take it personally. He was seven years older than me after all. Maybe to him I was just a silly kid. I heard his mother had him when she was barely more than a teenager. Maybe that explained the distance. Or maybe he just didn't care.

  When he came home‚ he didn't even look at me during dinner. He never smiled. Never spoke unless someone asked him something directly. and he never joined in any family talks. It was as if he wasn't even there‚ even while he sat right at the table with us.

  His mother though had been nothing but warm. From the moment she came into our lives‚ she became the mother I never had. My own mom passed away two years after she gave birth to me‚ so I never got to know what it felt like to be held by her or called sweetheart or tucked in at night with a kiss.

  But Killian's mother filled that hole without hesitation. She loved me like I was her own. and it wasn't forced‚ it was pure‚ the kind of love that made me feel safe.

  The only one who stayed cold was her son.

  Killian never smiled at me. Never spoke to me. Never even acted like I was there except for an occasional cold glance. and yet deep down some part of me always wanted to know what it would feel like if Killian really saw me. If he said my name. If I meant anything to him. Even a little.

  So hearing my name from his mouth while he was jerking off was something I hadn't expected at all. It was shocking. Wrong. Twisted. But it was also the first time I ever heard him say my name.

  And as messed up as it sounds‚ part of me couldn't stop my legs from moving toward the sound. Every part of me said turn back. But I couldn't. I didn't want to. I wanted to know if it was real. If I was really the one he imagined while he stroked himself like that.

  The door was slightly open. Light spilled out like a secret waiting to be exposed. I pushed it open.

  And there he was.

  Killian.

  Fully naked. Standing in front of the mirror. His hand was wrapped tight around his cock‚ thick and veiny and hard. His other hand was gripping the sink. His back muscles tensed‚ while his jaw clenched like he was holding back a growl.

  He looked like some untamed god‚ raw‚ wild‚ and completely lost in the thought of me.

  My name was still on his lips. He moaned it like it hurt. Like he needed it to survive. Like I was the only thing that could save him from whatever fire had taken him.

  I didn't breathe. I didn't blink. I just stood there and watched. My thighs pressed together. My chest was rising and falling. My skin burned between my legs. I hated how wet I felt just watching him stroke his cock like I already belonged to him.

  Then I made a small sound. A gasp.

  His head turned fast. Our eyes locked.

  Time froze.

  I saw it all‚ the red on his cheeks‚ the sweat on his chest‚ the way his hand paused but didn't let go. The way his eyes turned dark. Hungry.

  Then the moment shattered.

  "Get the hell out!" he yelled.

  He slammed the door so hard I felt the floor shake under me. I stumbled back‚ my breath gone‚ my legs shaking as I ran down the hallway like a girl who had just seen something she could never forget.

  I shut my door and fell onto the bed. My heart was pounding.

  But not from shame.

  From want.

  He had thought of me. He had wanted me. And now I was soaked with need for him. My hands shook as I touched my lips trying to calm down‚ but it was no use. All I could see was the way he held his cock. All I could hear was my name coming out of his mouth.

  I wanted to taste him‚ feel that heat on my skin‚ make him say my name again‚ but this time with me on my knees‚ his hand tangled in my hair.

  I hated myself for wanting that.

  But not enough to stop.

  The next morning I tried to stay away from him. I stayed in my room holding my breath every time I heard footsteps in the hall. I waited until our parents left before sneaking to the kitchen.

  But he was already there.

  Waiting.

  He didn't say a word.

  He didn't let me lie or act like nothing happened.

  He walked toward me like he already knew what I had dreamed about all night. as if he could smell the need on my skin. as if he felt the heat between my legs without even touching me.

  He grabbed my waist and slammed me against the fridge so hard I gasped. My hands hit his chest but he didn't move. He didn't step back. His whole body was pressed against mine.

  His breath was on my face. His voice a low growl.

  "Did you come into the hall last night because you wanted to see me jerk off to you?"

  "Killian—"

  "Answer me!" he snapped. One hand pressed my hip to the fridge. The other slid up my thigh. I couldn't speak. My breath was caught in my throat. My knees were shaking.

  He saw it.

  "Oh. You're already squeezing those pretty thighs‚ huh?" he said with a low laugh. His eyes dropped to my lips. Then to my chest.

  My body tensed. My lips parted.

  "You stood there and watched me stroke myself thinking about you. and you liked it. Didn't you?"

  I whimpered. "I-I wasn't trying to—"

  "Trying to what?" he whispered near my mouth. "Trying to get caught? Trying to see if your filthy big stepbrother touches himself to the thought of your tight little pussy?"

  I shook. My legs moved. My panties were wet.

  His hand moved between my thighs and pressed hard through the fabric. He didn't have to look. He knew. I was soaked. Dripping.

  "You're wet‚" he growled. He pressed harder. I gasped. "Just from words. Just from me saying your name while I came."

  "Killian please—" I had no idea what I was begging for.

  He pushed again. His fingers ground into my heat. My back arched. My head hit the fridge.

  "I should make you come right here‚" he growled. "Rub this needy cunt until it cries. Until it drips down your legs. Until it begs for my cock. Until it only knows how to want me."

  I gasped. I moaned. My thighs clamped. My nails clawed at his shoulders.

  "I want to ruin you‚" he whispered in my ear. "So bad. So fucking bad. But I can't."

  He moved his hand away‚ as slow as he could‚ while his body was still hard. Still shaking.

  He looked me in the eyes‚ dark and full of fire.

  "You want this?" he asked.

  I blinked‚ breathing heavy. "I—I don't—"

  "Good. Because if you had any self-respect you'd forget this ever happened."

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