All Chapters of You’re supposed to be my Brother Inlaw: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Felicia’s POV - Three Months Later The coffee shop near my apartment has become my refuge. It’s small and far from anywhere Jake and I used to go. Far from the life I had three months ago. I sit in the corner booth with my laptop open, pretending to work on gallery proposals, but mostly I’m just staring at the screen. The cursor blinks accusingly in the empty document. I haven’t been able to write anything meaningful in weeks. My phone buzzes. A text from Ian. “How are you holding up?” He checks in every few days. Has been since that night. Since everything changed. “Fine,” I type back, because what else is there to say? “You need to talk? I can come by.” “No. I’m okay. At the coffee shop working.” Okay. Call if you need me.” I set the phone down and wrap my hands around my mug. The barista keeps glancing at me, I’ve been here for three hours, nursing the same cup. I can’t go back to my apartment yet. The funeral was two weeks ago. I’d forced myself to go, standing

Felicia’s POV I’m curled up on the couch with Kyle, unable to sleep again, when Ian emerges from his room in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair disheveled. “Can’t sleep either?” he asks. I shake my head. Ian crosses to the kitchen without asking, and I hear him moving around, opening cabinets, the clink of glass. He returns with two tumblers of amber liquid. “Whiskey,” he says, handing me one. “My dad’s solution to everything. Figured it might help.” I shouldn’t drink. The whiskey burns going down, and I cough. Ian sits beside me, close enough that I can feel his warmth. “You know what I miss?” he says after a moment. “Music. Real music, played loud enough to feel it in your chest. When’s the last time you actually listened to music?” “Come on.” He sets his glass down and pulls me to my feet. Kyle protests as I disturb him, jumping off the couch with an indignant meow. Ian disappears into his room and returns with a bluetooth speaker. His phone connects, and suddenly th

His lips crash against mine and I melt into him, my fingers tangling in his hair as his tongue slips past my teeth, exploring my mouth. The taste of him makes my head spin. He backs me up step by step, our bodies pressed tight, until the edge of the bed hits the back of my knees.Richard breaks the kiss just long enough to growl, "You're driving me insane in this shirt." His hands grip the hem, yanking it up over my head. Cool air hits my bare skin, my nipples hardening instantly under his gaze. He stares at my boobs, full and heavy, as if he's seeing them for the first time. "Fuck, Eva, you're perfect."I arch my back, offering myself to him, a soft moan escaping my lips when his palms cup my breasts. His thumbs circle my nipples, teasing them into tight peaks before he pinches lightly, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core. I gasp, my pussy already aching with need, wetness pooling between my thighs. "Richard... touch me more."He doesn't need telling twice. Lowering his he

"I'm not done with you," he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent fresh sparks through my veins. There was an edge to it now, something darker, more possessive than before. I twisted slightly to look at him, but he held me firm, his cock already stirring against my ass, half-hard and insistent."Richard..." I whispered, a mix of exhaustion. We'd just fucked like animals—me cuffed and screaming his name but the hunger in his eyes told me he had more in store.He didn't respond with words. Instead, he rolled out of bed, his naked form silhouetted against the moonlight filtering through the glass. His muscles flexed as he moved to the dresser across the room, pulling open a hidden drawer I hadn't noticed before. The soft clink of toys made my pulse quicken. He returned with a handful of items, two dildos—one thick and veined like his cock, the other slimmer with a curved tip for hitting deep spots—and a full-length mirror propped on a stand. He set the mirror at the foot of the bed,

I don’t know how long I stayed in that half-awake state where time doesn’t feel real anymore.It wasn’t sleep.It wasn’t wakefulness either.Just something in between—heavy, fogged, and fragile enough that any thought I tried to hold onto slipped straight through my fingers.When I finally became fully aware of my surroundings, the first thing I noticed was the silence.Not peaceful silence.Controlled silence.The kind that feels arranged.I lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling as if it might give me instructions on how to exist correctly inside this place. My body felt wrong in ways I didn’t want to examine too closely. Every movement I considered came with a warning in my mind—don’t, don’t, don’t.Beside me, I felt him before I even turned my head.Ian.He was still there.Not touching me now, but close enough that the air between us felt occupied. Like even distance didn’t belong to me.I turned my head slowly.He was sitting against the headboard, one arm resting loosel