Part 2— ♧ Claimed by my Stepbrother

Kara’s POV

I dropped my suitcase in the entrance hall and the sound echoed through the empty mansion like a slap.

Mom and Dad were already gone. Their text had come through while I was driving

“Flight took off early, sweetie. Damon’s there if you need anything. Love you!”

Oh no! They would be gone for a whole 30days, leaving me alone to stay with this asshole Damon—My stepbrother.

Mom had married Damon’s dad six years ago. His father was a single dad raising a cocky, entitled asshole, and Mom fell hard. No blood between us at all, just a piece of paper and a shared last name that I hated.

Damon had never let me forget it. He acted like the mansion, the money, and everything in it was his birthright.

I kicked off my shoes and headed for the kitchen, stomach growling. The house felt heavier with just the two of us here.

The house smelled the same polished wood and expensive air freshener but something felt off immediately. Then I saw him.

Damon leaned against the marble island, shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

His dark hair was still damp from a shower, and that smug smirk was already plastered on his face before I even opened my mouth.

“Look who finally crawled home,” he drawled, eyes dragging slowly down my body. “College makes you any less of a stuck-up bitch?”

“Don’t call me that, and just get off Damin.” I snapped, brushing past him to open the fridge.

“This isn’t your house. It’s ours.”

He laughed, low and mean. “Wrong, your mom married my dad, remember? That makes me the man of the house now. Everything here, including you, belongs to me while they’re gone.”

I grabbed a water bottle and slammed the fridge door. “Everything except me, point of correction.”

His smirk widened. He moved closer, crowding me against the counter before I could slip away.

God, he smelled like soap and something darker. My false pulse kicked up.

“Especially you, Kara.” His voice dropped.

“You’ve been gone a year and look at you now. Tits filling out that tight little top. Ass looking like it needs to be grabbed. Finally grew into something worth my time, little stepsister.”

Heat flooded my face. “Fuck you, Damon.”

“It still doesn't stop me from wanting to bend you over every surface in this house.” His hand shot out and gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I bet that virgin pussy of yours gets wet every time you think about how much you hate me.”

“I hate you,” I hissed, trying to yank away. “You’re nothing but a spoiled bully who gets hard thinking he can control people.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He braced one hand on the counter beside my hip, leaning in until his breath brushed my ear.

“All that hate in your eyes, but your nipples are hard. I can see them through your shirt.”

I shoved at his chest. He didn’t budge. Instead, he caught my wrist and pinned it to the counter.

“Stop pretending,” he murmured. “You’ve always wondered what it’d feel like. Me bending you over, showing you exactly who owns this house. Who owns you.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. I hated him. I’d hated him for years, his arrogance, the way he looked at me like he already knew all my secrets.

But my body was betraying me, thighs pressing together, a slick ache building between them.

“Get off me,” I whispered, but it came out shaky.

Damon’s free hand slid up my thigh, pushing under the hem of my skirt.

His fingers were rough, calloused. When they brushed the edge of my panties, I jerked.

“Already wet,” he said, sounding pleased. “Little sister’s soaked for her big brother.”

“I’m not your…”

His fingers pressed harder, rubbing slow circles over my clit through the thin fabric.

A sharp gasp escaped me before I could bite it back. Pleasure shot up my spine, hot and humiliating.

“Say it again,” he growled, lips brushing my neck. “Tell me to stop while your pussy’s dripping down my hand.”

I tried. I really did. But when he pushed my panties aside and slid one thick finger inside me, the words died in my throat.

He curled it, stroking that spot that made my knees buckle.

“Damon…” It came out like a moan.

“That’s right. Say my name while I finger this tight cunt.” He added a second finger, pumping them deeper, faster.

His thumb found my clit and rubbed in tight, mean circles. I was grinding against his hand before I could stop myself, shame and need twisting together.

I gasped as he pushed two thick fingers inside me without warning. The stretch burned so good I hated myself for moaning. He pumped them deep and fast, curling them against that spot that made my legs shake.

He bit down on my neck, not gentle, and I cried out. The sting mixed with the pleasure until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

“You’re going to beg me to ruin you,” he whispered against my skin.

“Going to spread your legs every night I want and thank me for it.”

I was close already, embarrassingly close. My walls clenched around his fingers, breath coming in short, desperate pants.

He pulled back just enough to look at my face, eyes dark with hunger. “That’s it. Come on my fingers like the needy little slut you…”

The doorbell rang and we both froze.

Damon’s fingers were still buried deep inside me, my skirt bunched around my waist, my nipples straining against my shirt. His eyes flashed with frustration.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

The doorbell rang again. He slowly withdrew his hand, making sure to drag his fingers along my swollen clit one last time. I shuddered, unfinished and aching.

“Saved by the bell, princess,” he said, bringing his glistening fingers to his mouth.

He licked them clean while staring straight into my eyes. “But this isn’t over. Not even close.”

He stepped back, adjusting the obvious bulge in his sweatpants like it was nothing.

Then he headed for the door, tossing over his shoulder, “Fix your skirt before you drip all over the floor.”

I stood there trembling, heart racing, thighs slick, hating how badly I still wanted him to finish what he started.

The visitor was some delivery guy with paperwork about the security system, who kept Damon occupied for the next ten minutes.

But I could still feel his fingers inside me. Still hear his voice promising to ruin me.

And the worst part? I knew I was going to let him.