Chapter 20 I want him to have it all. I want Raine to take away this feeling-this out of my head desperation to escape the hell I've found myself in. All I can think is that I want out. To run from the gut-churning sensation of fear and agony, the endless uncertainty about anything. Feelings that I don't know how to handle without the drink, without something to lose myself in. There's no way I can stand being inside my own skin anymore, and I'm falling apart. He's so strong. He's like a goddamn mountain standing over me in this hallway, and I need him to be the one to fix this. Raine takes in the sight of me with a fierceness smoldering from the depths within his eyes. A piercing arrow shoots straight through my soul and pins me to this wall in a way that I don't think I could evade, even if I wanted to. And the truth that whispers relentlessly with each wild, panicked flutter of my pulse in my throat is that I don't want to escape him. I hate him, and I don't, all in the same breath. Because I think the thing I hate the most about him is that he won't allow me in. He's always swept me aside, always blocked me from getting close, always sneered at me if I attempted to be in his orbit. Now? Now, he's got me shoved against the wall, and I'm so lightheaded I feel like I'm about to pass out, to slide helplessly to the ground at any second. "Please don't be cruel about this." My heart is beating so fast it's like I've got hummingbird wings inside my chest instead of muscle. "I just . . . I just need . . . " I can't even say the words. I can't get them out because I'm terrified that he's gonna drive his fist into my jaw. He's the one pushing me to admit things, the kind of secrets I haven't ever dared say out loud. I don't know what kind of fucking spell he's put on me, but I keep finding my thoughts drifting on a string to obey his command. The longer he stays so close, the more this heat and urgency keep threading needles through my veins. Like I'm sizzling from the inside out with every pricking, keen-edged point. And my dick is throbbing with the way he's so near. We're chest to chest. Our groins are almost touching. And that's the breathless moment when Raine drops his eyes down from my face. His gaze lowers to the space between us, and he sees it. A dark noise rumbles out of him, and I think I'm gonna die. This is it. This is the moment I self-destruct and combust into a fireball of shame and embarrassment because my dick is straining, outlined against the front of my sweats. Eager and naive and leaping forward even though it's because of the person who despises me most in this entire world. "Go on," he grunts, flicking his eyes back up to mine. They're so dark, hauntingly so, with shadows carving deep and dangerous lines across his face. "What is it you need, hmm?" As he lets that noise vibrate out of his chest and straight into mine, he shifts his weight and lets his bulk sink against me. Flattening my body against the wall, he forces our hips together. I whimper. I fucking whimper. The overpowering closeness and, oh my fucking god, the pressure of his body weighing down on my thickening cock is like nothing I've ever felt before. Even when I kissed that guy, it wasn't like this; we didn't crowd against each other so intimately. This is completely new, and it sends a spiraling trail of fireworks in motion from the head of my dick all the way through my lower stomach. My fingers claw at his shirt as I suck in a shaky breath. Until now, I haven't dared unclench my fists, refused for one second to allow myself to touch him. Right now, I don't know whether to defend myself, or perish beneath his imposing size. As he hovers over me, pressing me into the wall so hard that I'm sure I'll melt at every single delicious point of contact, I recognize what I'm feeling. It's enough to make my heart stutter, because he's hard, too. Holy shit, he's hard as stone. The outline of his cock presses through his jeans, and I'm struggling to stay in my body. I don't know what the fuck to do right now. Is he angry at me for causing this? Is he pissed off that all this tension and fight we've had going on-so much so that we're messed up beyond reason-has brought us to the point when our dicks don't know how to react appropriately? My stepbrother's erection is ever so slightly rubbing against mine, and I've never felt more alive. "Use your words, Kayce." He issues me a warning. The deep, weighty pronunciation of my name makes my cock jerk in response. "I need-need to get outta my head," I gasp. It feels like all the blood in my body is surging into my groin, and I'm painfully erect now. The sticky, smeared evidence drags along my thigh, proving just how desperate my dick is for this agonizingly small amount of friction. I'm probably gonna have a wet spot on the front of my sweats. One more thing for Raine to mock me over. Leaking precum like a horny, panting teenager. "That's not an answer." Grinding into me harder, he scolds me through a clenched jaw. Coating me with harsh words in a way that makes my skin flush red-hot. And this time, I straight up moan at the way that feels so good, but it's not enough. It's nowhere near enough. That gritty, commanding voice of his does me in. I fall into his trap, tumbling straight into those razor-sharp jaws, and my fingers bunch into the soft flannel of his shirt with a desperate plea, a barely-there whisper feathering across my lips. "I need your help. Please." Take control. Take hold of all this misery. Rope it and wrestle it to the ground, and let me feel anything other than this sense of dread. "Are you sure this is what you want?" Raine is making me take every step in this. Controlling asshole that he is, he won't give me an easy way out. He's not letting me be used or unconsciously let go, even though that's what I crave. It cries out in the depths of my bones so bad. Let me dissolve and not have to think about anything. I nod. "Don't make me beg." That's a lie. I'm not above begging. Not when the head of my dick is slicking a smear of wetness against my skin while absolutely aching for relief. "Maybe I like that," he hums, the kind of dark and wicked noise that absolutely shouldn't turn my insides molten, but hearing him say that out loud is something I never knew I needed before now. "Maybe I'm an asshole who likes it when you're timid and shaking." "Raine." I breathe his name, as my hips now move of their own accord, grinding against him. Goosebumps flurry down my arms at the added pressure rubbing through the soft cotton. "We can't." This is so wrong. So very, very wrong. I'm fucking everything up. Another way that I'm at fault. "Want to stop?" The evil tormentor he is, his hips thrust a little in return. "N-no." Oh, my god, it feels incredible, and more goosebumps pop up as I struggle to form words. He does it again. A slow, rolling motion that rubs fabric against fabric. There are still multiple layers between us, but he's successfully disarmed me, crumbling me into a mess. "Want me to walk away?" The hint is there, the power dynamic between us. He's forcing me to ask for what I need. The worst thing in all of this, is how composed he remains. My stepbrother stands over me as if he could easily push away from this wall and walk off at any second. Like he'd gladly leave me slumped here, with a rock-hard cock, and longing for something I've never sampled a glimpse of, but want so fucking badly, I can't even begin to put it into words. And that thought, that realization, sends a thud of desperation right to my balls. Apparently, that little tinge of humiliation does something for me. I don't think I want to examine that new piece of information about myself right now. "No. Pl-please." Rushing blood drums in my ears, damn near deafening me as I keep stumbling over simple words. All I can focus on is how good it feels to have that heaviness and searing heat of his body up against mine. I don't want him to keep that from me. "Take me out," he utters the rough demand, reducing me to a shivering, trembling wreck as I slowly unwind my fingers from his shirt. Mustering as much false confidence as possible, I slide my fingertips down his stomach, gravitating to the way his thick torso rises and falls as my touch descends toward his waistband. As I hit the top of his belt, my fingers curl, and I suck in a sharp breath. It makes me pause, hesitate for a second, all thoughts flying out of my head except for one. This is happening, and I have no clue what I'm doing. Will I be terrible at this? Will I mess it up somehow? Will this forevermore be something he looks at me and sneers in derision about-even more so than he already does whenever he looks my way? With shaky fingers, I trace my way to his belt buckle, and there's a wild-eyed racehorse with thundering hooves occupying the spot where my pulse should be. Raine's other palm comes up to brace against the wall. The motion leans our foreheads so close together they're lightly touching. At that point of contact, we both look down to where my frightfully unsteady hands linger between us. I can't help but hitch in a breath, the forbiddenness of this is enough to choke my lungs. We're stepbrothers. We're strangers. Although, at the end of the day, we're still connected and that means something like this should never even be a whisper of an idea. Let alone for us to be rocking against one another-for me to know the feeling of his bulge dragging over mine-while all alone in this house. "I . . . I've never done this." My mouth is bone-dry. I'm stammering, quaking at the way he's so imposing. And yet, there isn't a single force in this universe that could drag me away from where I'm standing right now. Raine arches a superior eyebrow at my hesitation. "What? You never seen a dick before or something?" My eyes connect with his, and I see his pupils have blown out completely. It's that tiny glimpse of a reaction, the first hint that maybe he's just as caught off-guard by this strange yearning as I am, that gives me a fraction more confidence. I make quick, fumbling work of undoing his belt and jeans. Each noise, each spine-tingling rasp as fabric eases and his zipper descends, it all leaves my blood singing. I'm somehow not here and also so unbelievably present in this moment it aches. Watching myself do something for the first time as if I'm an onlooker staring in rapt fascination, while also being completely intoxicated and sucked under by these wickedly vivid details beneath my fingertips. My knuckles graze the bare skin and trail of dark hair just above the waistband of his briefs, and I shudder. At the same time, Raine's stomach caves at the first skin-on-skin contact, and he makes a sinful, rumbling noise. "What a pretty thing you are when you blush for me," he murmurs, and I nearly combust on the spot at the way that turns me inexplicably and confusingly to absolute stone. I was hard before, but now that hint of desire and rasp in his voice has made my dick pulse to the point of agony. "No one can know this happened." The words rush out, even as I push the material over the sizable bulge behind the black cotton of his underwear. His dick bobs up, long and thick and veined, and holy fuck. Holy fuck. I'm staring at his cock with its swollen head, the glistening evidence of precum already waiting there. My heart kicks into overdrive. "You gonna stare all night, or do something about it?" Raine grits his teeth. "Get your dick out and stroke us both." His harsh command shakes me out of my momentary freeze. I can't believe this is happening, and I don't pause this time. Shoving my sweats down to free my cock, it springs forward with all the eagerness I've been attempting to will away to no avail before tonight. My crown is reddened, so very obviously desperate for any fragment of attention he might give me. If I wasn't running on pure lust and adrenaline right now, I might be embarrassed at how painfully evident it is that I've been impatient and leaking . . . all for him. My throat works a heavy swallow as I take in the sight, our cocks jutting out and only a fraction away from touching-from sliding together, feeling that brush of sensitive flesh in the most forbidden of ways-for the first time. We're similar in length, but Raine's fat cock is thicker, heavier, and that thought, that obvious size to him, sends a coil of longing winding tight and low in my belly. I'm suddenly seeing replays in my mind's eye of the night I succumbed to my forbidden little delusions in the bath. My mouth begins watering immediately. I want to feel the weight of him on my tongue. Raine clears his throat. "Hold out your hand." Of course, I do as he says without a second thought. Which seems to please him, because there's a glittering darkness right there in his eyes, his nostrils flare, and he lets a long line of spit fall into my waiting palm. Jesus. That has no right to make my stomach clench. "Well? You wanted this, didn't you . . . or was all your pleading just an act?" I drop my hand, and there's absolutely no way to explain the feeling that comes next. Wrapping my fingers tentatively around both of us, the second our swollen, sensitive heads touch, it's game over. Electricity zaps around my body, lighting my veins and blazing a trail through every cell. The velvety smooth feel of him, the slickness of his saliva-as I readjust my grip to take both of us in hand, it's as if my entire DNA gets recalibrated at that moment. I've never felt anything like this. Pleasure rockets through me and floods to crowd out any uncertainty about who I might be. All I can think and feel and goddamn breathe is him. The muskiness of his scent, that masculinity, and the lingering pine and spice clinging to his shirt, winds up to snare me. Have I ever felt so intensely consumed by someone, all from a few slow strokes and furtive presses of my fingertips? "Harder." The gruffness in Raine's voice is so close to my mouth. I feel his breath fan across my skin, but I know this isn't a moment for anything other than this. He's not opening an invitation to more than just this physical release, and to be honest, right now, I don't even care. It feels so goddamn amazing as my grip tightens, squeezing us together with a firmer hold, that I deliver another one of those stupid little whimpering noises. I serve it up on a platter just for him and can't help myself. He can have it. He can mock me forever, hold it over my head until the end of our days. Right now, all that matters is that I'm stroking our cocks, rubbing our lengths together, and it's the most incredible feeling. It's so wrong that we're doing this, but I haven't got a single brain cell left. Certainly not one that is able to stop where this is heading. As I switch hands, shifting up and down, working us harder, our breathing grows more labored in the barely there distance between our mouths. We're both watching on, transfixed by the sights of our cocks. Raine makes a hissing noise of pleasure when my calloused palm slides over the tips to squeeze them both tight together. So I do it again. And again. God, I love hearing that smallest indication that he's enjoying this. My balls tingle, drawing up tight. Another gasping noise, a heady moan, a breathless realization escapes me. "Look at the mess you're making." As his hips shift a little, he grunts and thrusts ever so slightly with the rhythm of my strokes. "The little Crimson Ridge golden boy, stammering and blushing for me. Not so cocky now, huh?" My teeth sink into my bottom lip in an effort to avoid revealing the desperate noises I'm so very close to making. "We can never . . . never fucking talk about this." I hitch in a breath as that familiar pressure starts to load at the base of my spine. "Just get it done." Through a clenched jaw, he hisses at me. "No one can know." My words drop into a whine, because I can't stop it rushing toward me. The shuttle of my fist works us harder and harder and I get lost in the seductive need to fucking erupt. "Raine . . . no one . . . " I swallow back the riot of needy sounds. My eyes grow hooded, watching the way my dick fits right alongside his beneath my fingers. Christ. My balls are primed. Ready to unload. White-hot sparks fly through my blood. I'm so close. My movements grow jerky, rougher, tugging a little more frantically now-giving the world's worst hand job, I'm sure of it, but I don't fucking care because this is mind-blowing in the extreme. "Stop talking." The groan affecting his voice does me in. I feel him throb, hot and hard beneath my palm, and it goes straight to the base of my dick. "Ffffuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck." My climax cascades through my groin. Leaving me gasping incoherent curses and words as everything goes blank. Beneath my tight grip, my cock pulses and spurts thick ropes of cum to coat my fist. I'm thrusting into my hand, chasing the slippery sensation and the agony of pleasure as it pours through me. And that's when it happens; Raine's release spurts to join mine, and I swear to god it drags even more out of me just seeing him fall apart. He lets out a deep gasp, a captivating vibration bursts from somewhere inside his broad chest. I can't believe this is actually happening. More cum, his cum, pumps forward to mix with my own, covering my hand in a slickness that is both of us and impossible to tell apart. The stupid fluttering thing inside my chest likes that, wants more of that, enjoys the fact we fit together so easily in this way. As my fist keeps stroking, it's goddamn everywhere-a wickedly, oh so very filthy, trail of evidence coats both our lengths. It's unbelievably hot. The sexiest fucking sight I've ever witnessed, and yet at the same time, I have no idea what to do in the come-down beyond this moment. What becomes evident, immediately, is that Raine isn't keen to stick around. When our dicks have stopped pulsing, and we both manage to catch our breath, he swallows and pushes off the wall. His broad frame moves away, leaving me feeling the immediate sense of loss without his body blanketing mine anymore. A sharp pang at the realization hits . . . he didn't touch me at all. His cock slips out from my hold, and I'm standing there quite literally with my dick in my hand, watching him tuck himself away. Scrubbing a hand over his mouth, he looks me up and down from beneath hooded eyes. I can't tell what he's fucking thinking. Fumbling to follow his lead, I drag my sweats up over my cum-covered dick. Stuffing my cock out of sight, the drying evidence is right there that I'm smeared with his cum, too. And in that moment, our eyes connect. Raine's jaw works, as if he's going to say something, but then thinks better of it. What is there to say anyway? Giving a slight shake of his head, he turns and does what he does oh so very well. He walks away. Leaving me standing in shock and timid awe, with a swirling, strange feeling occupying my limbs. Because he just gave me what I asked for, didn't he? I wanted help to get out of my head, to find a way to relieve that awful feeling of being out of control, and he did exactly as I asked. But I'm the one who couldn't shut my mouth, who insisted on never talking about it and no one knowing. Those were my words. So I guess now we just forget. And we move on.