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“That’s right… The hit-it-and-quit-it guy wants a go at his little sister.”

Khaos steps off my leg with the kind of flourish we could use on the team.

“You’re not my sister and I’m not your brother. Get it fucking straight.”

Even though he’s the one who started it by using those labels, he’s suddenly very upset by me saying them. He didn’t seem to have a problem with the rest of that statement though.

I cross my leg back over to its correct side, leaving my knees slightly ajar.

Khaos’s nostrils flare as he takes in my position.

“Stretch me, Stepbrother.”

The towering man before me drops to his knees in an instant. I expect him to twist my legs and arms into a pretzel. I don’t expect him to take my right calf and cross it over my body exactly like I just did with my left leg.

He’s doing it. He’s actually balancing me ou—

I’m flipped all the way over onto my stomach before I even have time to process.

Gently and one by one, Khaos guides my arms over my head, elongating them above me.

Goose bumps break out all over my body.

One hand where my hip meets my thigh, he pulls my ass up, while the other hand keeps my forehead to the floor, putting me in puppy pose. Khaos’s knees nudge mine farther apart, then I feel his growing erection nestle into my ass crack.

“Khaos,” leaves my lips in a lustful rush. This is so intimate. This is too intimate.

A blanket of heat envelops my back as Khaos leans over it, speaking against my ear.

“Careful, Kota. You moan my name like that again, I’ll be the one breaking.”

“That was a warning, not a moan,” I grit to keep the arousal from my voice. “This is—”

“This is just the beginning, Stepsister.” His thrust isn’t hard enough to knock me out of the position but only because everything in me is locked up tighter than a supermax security prison right now. “You asked for this.”

“I didn’t ask to be dry humped.”

“Not that dry considering my cock’s already leaking.”

“Unsurprising, coming from you.”

His laugh is strained, but he doesn’t deny it. I knew he came in his pants that day in the kitchen.

“I, on the other hand, am drier than Antarctica.”

“That so?”

“Colder, too.” I twist my head to the side to taunt, “You gonna stretch me anytime soon?”

All at once, Khaos’s hips drive mine down to the floor. This, unfortunately, does produce another moan, but at least I refrain from uttering his name again.

His knees now straddling my thighs, he wraps his hand around the front of my throat and peels my head, chest, then stomach off the floor. My chin’s lifted high, high, higher, putting me in a very intense cobra, my spine practically a C. The palm pressing on my airway causes me to make a few gurgling noises.

“Is that… Is that the sound of you cracking?”

It’s the sound of my air supply being cut off, jackass.

Since I’ve been out of breath before and still performed my ass off, I wheeze out, “It’s your knuckles struggling to grip something thick for once.”