Follow
Chapters
Share
Once Rejected: A Slave To My Alpha Stepbrothers  Novel Cover

Once Rejected: A Slave To My Alpha Stepbrothers

I thought running from the mate who used me as a pawn and rejected me would be the end of my cruel fate. I was wrong. I ran straight into a pack that didn't just hate me, but also wanted me dead. My alpha stepbrothers: Quin, Rio, and Hunter. They're called the Three Devils: dangerous, wild, and untamed. Quin wants to claim my rut. Rio wants to mark me. And Hunter? He's ready to burn the world just to make me his. But the Moon Goddess doesn't play fair. Pack laws don't bend...not even for Alphas. And now we're trapped in a web of fate that will either bind us together or tear us apart completely. This is a dangerous game, and I dread who the winner will be: the feral alpha, the biker president, or the sex god?
Chapters
Share

Chapter 10

Veil.

It's Emma, mounting and riding...

My eyes narrow further just so I can see the face of the man beneath her. The moment I do, my spine curdles.

Rio.

The pulse quickens in my veins as I feel myself floating, the shock reeling fast through me.

I hold onto the wall for support as heavy drumbeats take residence in my heart.

She's stark naked, the buttery light of the lantern on the nightstand casting a warm glow on her skin.

Emma's hips move in rhythm, her pussy enveloping Rio's cock in a ballad of lust. The staccato beats of their sex bouncing into the hallway.

I'm too shocked to move away. Too flustered to cut my gaze from them.

Emma and Rio are an item?

As if trying to clear my doubts, Emma moans aloud. "Yes, hubby. Goddess...hmmm,"

That's when it hits me square on the jaw: her husband is my stepbrother.

For some reason, bitterness surges through me, and I taste bile in my mouth.

Yes, I'm never on good terms with Rio, but seeing him married to the girl who was once my best friend makes my heart ache.

Why did he choose her of all people? What's the story behind their union?

Her naughty words drag my attention back to them. She's openly praising Rio's bed skills, telling him she'd trade anything and anyone to be the only woman he ever gets to touch.

Rio doesn't speak. His face is blank, chest rising and falling rhythmically as he watches her bounce over him like a whore.

He looks mentally distant, like he has something else bothering him. The only sign that he feels what she's doing to him is the small arcs his thumbs are drawing over her ass cheeks.

My teeth grit watching them as something burns inside me.

Why am I pained seeing this?

Or rangles my lungs and drains what color that's left on my body.

She tweaks his nipples, coaxing them until they become turgid.

It makes Rio hiss, his eyes shutting briefly until Emma pulls her hands away.

She bunches her long locks with both hands, hiking them up, her hips moving in a snake-like motion over Rio's dick.

I see it, the swimmers dribbling from her cunt and drenching Rio's length.

It stirs wet sounds in the air.

Her moves become sloppy, the tautness of her body shows how much she's soaked in pleasure.

When the dick mistakenly slips from her cunt, and I catch a glimpse of it, a gasp tears from my mouth.

"Goddess!"

I intend for it to be a whisper, but unfortunately, it's audible. Loud.

My pulse halts, Rio's molten dark eyes swing to the door, momentarily catching mine, but I duck quickly.

"Who's there?" Emma's voice resounds, gritty and coarse from the strain of her endless moans.

The bed frame whirrs, and it tells me she's stood up.

Oh, seven seas!

I'm in trouble.

Thoughts ping through my mind, and I look for the nearest hideout as her feet pad over the floor, the closer she advances to the door.

I rush to the table a few feet away, the one crowned with beaded flower vases, and slip beneath it, yanking the hem of my skirt jutting out of my hideout into my thighs.

"I heard someone's voice," Emma says to Rio. "I think someone was watching us, hubby."

Rio's response comes, but it's faint; I barely heard it. "....but I didn't hear it. It could be your mind making it up."

Emma sighs. "I guess so." There's a smile in her voice. "Don't mind me, let's continue where we stopped."

She slams the door shut, and a giggle reverberates from the door before it morphs into a deep moan.

I take a breather, clutching at my racing heart.

Dr. Eliza's words rattle through me.

Don't do anything that'll make my heartbeat spike, I recite, feeling it beating like the drums of hell.

I'm going to have a hard time complying with her orders.

I wet my parched throat and slip out from beneath the table.

I scan the empty hallway, glad no one saw me watching them. Now that my position in the pack has deteriorated, I have to tread carefully.

I saunter past their bedroom door, down to mine.

I click the door shut and perch my back over it until I slide to the floor.

So many things changed since my disappearance from the pack.

I lost my mother.

My best friends turned against me, with Emma married to Rio.

What else happened that I'm yet to find out?

I look through the window at the starry night, crickets chirping and breaking the quiet ambiance of my bedroom.

Unbidden, I remember them, Emma fucking Rio.

His blank face. His nonchalance.

His...cock.

Goodness me...

I didn't see it up close, but it looks...beautiful and meaty.

The lick of hunger down my spine makes my eyes widen.

Wild thoughts and imagination spin through me.

How does he taste?

The way Emma was moaning...

Goodness, Veil, get a fucking grip on your thoughts!

This is Emma's husband you're thinking about! My rational mind howls, but that irrational side mocks it.

He's Emma's husband, but he's my stepbrother. So, before Emma came into the picture, I was already in it.

"Shit! I'm beginning to think like a hussy." I bite down on my lip, trying to distract myself.

Dr. Eliza's suggestion comes to my mind– masturbation.

Even though the lick of hunger I felt just moments ago is gone, I still want to give it a try.

I part my thighs, wincing at the old marks on them, and slide my panties aside.

I touch myself, and I'm not surprised to realize I'm dry. Totally.

The touch alone hurts me.

Before I can get a proper scissor on my clit with my fingers, the boulder of pain from earlier returns.

A sharp cry tears from my lips. Fire blazes through me, snapping my breath.

I pull my hand away, begging the goddess to take the pain away while I writhe on the floor.

This isn't going to stop.

This pain.

I manage to waddle to the bed, and as I slump into it, I force myself to sleep. Maybe that'll push the pain away.

Unfortunately, it doesn't. It follows me into the dreamland.

__

It's better now. The worst of the pain has ebbed, and I try to sleep in more, only for the hummingbird's song on my window to wake me up.

A hiss tears from the depth of my mouth.

I hate mornings. That bitch always comes with a reminder of my unhealthy condition.

"When do you plan to stop working against me?" I bitch to the morning sun, kissing my skin.

Succumbing to my reality, I prop my eyes open, watching the ceiling beams.

And I hear it, the snicking sound coming across the bed.

Slowly, I spin my eyes there, and my blood runs cold.

Sitting on the couch with his legs crossed while he rolls the hands of the broken alarm clock is...

Rio.

He's dressed in a pristine white shirt and black pants, looking stylish yet simple.

The rolled sleeves of his shirt reveal his muscly arms.

I swallow loudly, taking him in.

He catches my gaze through his black sunglasses, and slowly, he peels them off his face.

Dark hazel eyes pierce me, judging.

I hope it's not what I'm thinking it is?

"Is sleeping talking your forte? Or is it snooping on couples who are having sex that's your forte, stepsister?" He drawls, pinning his elbows on his knees to support his jaw as he narrows his eyes on me.

Tbc.

Keep Watching!
The story is getting intense! Switch to App to continue reading
Unlock All Episodes
Search for “KRHJ” on moboreader to read the full book.
Copy the code and search in the NovelShort app to continue reading.
KRHJ
copy
Open the Official Website

You may also like

A Second Chance At True Love Novel Cover
8.6
On our third wedding anniversary, I planned to tell my husband I was pregnant. Instead, I watched him get down on one knee and propose to another woman. In the ensuing chaos, he shoved me down a flight of marble stairs. I woke up in the hospital, losing our baby. The doctor called him, begging him to come. "Tell her to stop this pathetic act," I heard my husband's voice say over the phone. "I don't have time for her games." He hung up. He was at the same hospital, comforting his mistress over a minor burn while our child died. After three years of lies and five broken promises, I finally woke up. I left him a box with the ultrasound photos and my miscarriage diagnosis, signed the divorce papers, and disappeared from his life forever.
BROKEN VOWS:- FALLING FOR MY MARRIAGE COUNSELOR  Novel Cover
9.6
"This is wrong. You're supposed to help me fix my marriage" "And yet here you are, squirming under my hands like you're begging me to break it" "You're too close... I can't think straight when you're this close" "Then stop thinking. Just feel." He leans in, his breath brushing against my lips. "Tell me to stop Lillian-and I will. But if you don't, I'm going to kiss and claim your body like I've imagined a thousand times on that chair" *~*~*~*~*~*~*~* When Lillian Calloway walks into marriage counseling, she's desperate-not just to save her crumbling relationship with her emotionally distant husband, but to hold together the image of a perfect life. Then she meets Dr Ronan Carter. Calm, devastatingly handsome and far too familiar for her comfort. Each session unravels more than just the crack in her marriage-it exposes desires she's locked away for years. Ronan makes her feel alive. And when the professional lines begin to blur, Lillian finds herself stepping on the edge of something forbidden. He's her counselor. She's his client. Falling for each other will cost them everything. But what if the biggest lie was the marriage they were trying to save?
Cruel Capone Novel Cover
9.4
Whitney Rivers, a plastic surgeon who dreams of owning her own practice, crosses paths with Casio Capone. Her life takes a turn in a way she never would have expected. What started as a chance encounter in the busy streets of New York City turns into a whirlwind connection she can't resist. Until one day, when everything shattered. An attempt to get to Casio, Whitney is kidnapped by his enemies as leverage. Entering the dark and violent underworld of the Mafia. Whitney comes face to face with coldblooded killers and the brutal reality of Casio's life. Caught between danger and desire, will Casio and Whitney's connection become stronger, or will it crash and burn? Will it destroy them or make them unstoppable?
HIGH VOLTAGE SEDUCTION  Novel Cover
8.9
WARNING: FOR MATURE READERS ONLY!!! This erotica collection is raw, hot, intense, and packed with deliciously filthy fucktwists that will leave you breathless.  Each story is steamy, gripping, and driven by compelling plots that pull you deep into forbidden desire. You will find A strict 59-year-old professor bends his tempting student over his desk and growls that she's been a very bad girl. A college student wakes up sore and dripping in her biggest rival's bed, with no memory of how many times he fucked her senseless. Her hot stepdad has a secret camera aimed at her bed. When she catches him watching, she doesn't rage - she spreads her legs and gives him the show of his life. A seductive woman is the only weakness of a ruthless mafia king, and he finally claims her body as his own. She knows her sister is cheating, so she seduces her husband right in front of her - and her sister can't say a single word. Piper's rent is overdue. Instead of paying up, she drops to her knees for the landlord while her boyfriend watches. A spoiled, arrogant rich brat demands a private striptease. The dancer doesn't walk away - she dances for him until he completely loses control. An assistant's boyfriend has a huge cock, but "Daddy" knows exactly how to ruin her with his tongue. She chooses Daddy. Best friends make a wicked bet: seduce my dad. She takes the bet... and loses all control the moment he bends her over. Chloe has been secretly masturbating to her stepbrother's photos, moaning his name as she comes. She can't hide it much longer. A married gym coach can't stop staring at the sexy teacher. She goes all the way and lets him take her between her thighs. Her doctor tells her she needs rest... but she's determined to prove she's strong enough to be fucked senseless on his examination table. Every twisted fantasy and every scorching answer waits inside these pages. Flip the pages, spread your legs... and get ready to throb.
His Mafia Queen, My Substitute Heart Novel Cover
7.1
My perfect marriage to Don Dante Moretti, the most powerful man in the New York mob, ended the moment my father died. I was twenty-four, pregnant with his heir, and I believed I was his queen. But for two days, while I planned a funeral alone, my husband was unreachable. Then a friend sent me a photo. Dante in London, his hand tangled in the hair of the woman beside him. It was my cousin, Valentina. He came home with lies about a dead phone and a difficult summit. That night, I found his private journal, and my world disintegrated. He had married me because I had "Valentina’s eyes." I was a substitute. Our unborn child wasn't a product of love. It was a project. A girl he planned to name Elena, after Valentina, calling her a "perfect, tiny piece of the woman I can never truly possess." I wasn't his wife. I was a stand-in. The love I felt for him didn't just die. It was murdered. The next morning, I slid a folder across the kitchen island. "Donation forms," I said. He didn't even look before scrawling his signature on what were actually our finalized divorce papers. His arrogance was my weapon. As he slept beside me that night, smelling of lies and my cousin, I made an appointment at a private clinic. He wanted a legacy? I would give him nothing.
The Lie Behind His Perfect Life Novel Cover
9.6
For three years, my husband Hudson convinced everyone I was crazy. My parents. Our friends. Even my own therapist. He said my suspicions were just anxiety. PTSD from our miscarriage. That I needed my medication and a good night's sleep. But a pink butterfly hair clip in his car told a different story. It wasn't mine. And we don't have children. When I confronted him, he sighed with practiced patience—the same sigh he'd perfected over three years of making me doubt my own mind. "It belongs to a client's daughter," he said, reaching for my pills. "Your anxiety is flaring up again." I almost believed him. I always almost believed him. But this time, I didn't back down. I invited his mistress and their three-year-old son to our family dinner. With the DNA test results in my purse, I was ready to burn his perfect world to the ground. He thought he could gaslight me forever. He was wrong.