Hot for Stepbrother. Part 2

I clenched as a wave of heat warmed my core. “Get off,” I whispered, lightly kicking my foot toward his chest in my weakest attempt to convince myself I didn’t want this, that I hadn’t been thinking about this moment for the past two freaking years.

Before my foot collided with his chest, he snatched it and yanked me to the edge of the bed by my ankle. Wetness pooled between my thighs at the way he was rough.

He was never like this before, but it seemed tonight, there was something feral lurking deep within him, something that he couldn’t stop.

And I didn’t want him to stop.

“Jace …” My heart was pounding. “I’m not going to say it again.”

What the hell was wrong with me? Why was I wet for my damn stepbrother?

He snaked his hand around my throat and pulled me to my feet, so we were chest to chest. “You prance around in this short schoolgirl skirt”—he grabbed the bottom of my skirt and looked down at my body—“fucking knee-high stockings, and your ne