Read Billionaire Stepbrother: Autumn (Our Forbidden Year Book 2) Online

Authors: Emilia Beaumont

Tags: #billionaire, #Fiction, #romance, #stepbrother dearest, #BDSM, #dark romance, #taboo

Billionaire Stepbrother: Autumn (Our Forbidden Year Book 2)

Billionaire Stepbrother:
Autumn

Our Forbidden Year - Part 2

Emilia Beaumont

Chapter One

M
y body shivers uncontrollably, but I stand my ground out in the cold. I’m barefoot on the balcony, at the top of Chamberlin Tower. My silk dressing gown, the only piece of clothing I have left to my name, flaps in the wind. It skims and slaps against my naked legs. And with each gust, the wind pulls at the belt tied around my waist.

I don’t care. I let the air strip me bare. My hands grip tight to the freezing railing as inky grey clouds drift overhead. The weather is turning for the worse… I missed what little summer we had this year. Under the watchful eye of Lex, I was not allowed to leave the apartment, and with our parents travelling for their honeymoon I was left to his mercy. I bow my head and sigh. Do I regret our actions? What we had done? That, I can’t answer. I do not allow myself even one moment to ponder those thoughts. It’s a rabbit–hole I cannot let myself tumble into. Not yet… he’s everything to me.

Alexandre Chamberlin, my step–brother by marriage, will be home soon, and I tell myself to enjoy the quiet rumble of the streets while I can. Before I’m locked away again from prying eyes and interfering friends. It’s for my own good, Lex says…

Silk tendrils float around me, caught up by a rush of air. The wind fights with the robe and wins; the black material flies open, like a curtain at a theatre show. My pink nipples are taut with excitement, they peek out, ready for their moment to take centre stage. With one final blast of air, the dark silk billows away from my naked body and slinks to the cold concrete floor. I let it fall from my skin and feel it slipping between my fingers.

The corners of my mouth twitch upward and my eyes open. In a sudden movement I fling my arms out wide and my breasts bounce with the motion. I breathe in deeply. The air ripples over my pale skin; I didn’t get the tan I wanted after all. But that’s OK, I got so much more this summer.

This small act of rebellion and defiance is one that I have come to enjoy each day, and I relish every moment. With every passing second on the balcony, I enjoy my pure, nude body and run my hands over my smooth curves. Right now, it is mine to do what I please with. If only Lex knew, and I imagine how turned on he’d be, seeing me like this.

Somehow, being out here, exposed, feels like a cleansing. I relish the cold and its harsh sting across my skin.

I glance around the city skyline and peer over the edge of the railing. Watching ant–like dots busying themselves below, seeing if they notice me. A couple of times over the long weeks there have been glances and shocked faces, but not many. And even so, they blush and quickly look away – ashamed or too busy to care. People are too preoccupied with their own complicated lives to look around, let alone look up on the off chance they’ll see something out of the ordinary.

Across from the balcony, a stubby grey apartment building sits squatly on its foundations, blocking the partial view of London. It’s a poor cousin of the overbearing but magnificent Chamberlin Tower. Tiny, square windows that barely let in any light dot the surface. But my eyes scan each window, as it has become routine, hoping to see a face peering back. Anything, anyone – I want to be seen. But either blinds are closed, or the rooms are dark and void of life. Sometimes it feels like I’m the only soul alive. I want to scream, but I keep it buried deep within and tell myself I’m the luckiest woman alive right now.

***

T
he elevator dings quietly in the distance, but I’m too lost in my own thoughts to notice it in time. The sound floats through the apartment, and I eventually recognise the sound and come to my senses. Lex is already in the apartment hunting me. His footfalls are heavy and rapid.

How many times have we played this game? Always the same. I’m always the prey… always the loser. But don’t I always let him win? Desperately want him to win?

In the mornings, he leaves notes dotted around the apartment for me to find; each one makes me wetter than the last. Forcing myself not to touch any part of my body for the duration of his absence, as that is our agreement, is agony. My nipples stay painfully erect as I relish the thought of what he will do to me once he gets home. The build–up and time apart is more than half the fun. He isn’t normally gone for too long, a few hours here and there – quick business meetings, and things more important than me.

But today, there was no note. Today, he is later than usual.

Did he forget? Is his interest wavering? Does he fear being found out?

No time to think of this now.

I scramble for the robe, my fingernails accidentally scraping the stone like claws on an old–fashioned blackboard, as I gather it up. Frantically I search to find the arm holes; I spin the dressing gown around every which way, but the material seems to get even more knotted and confused. I need to cover myself up, need to get off the balcony.

I’m too late.

I should be used to it by now; no matter what I’m doing, the experience never changes. His arrival, his need, even when I’m expecting it, consistently surprises me. I can’t prevent my heart from beating hard against my chest. There’s nothing I can do about the thick lump that rises in my throat, making it painful to swallow. It’s as if my body has been trained to react to him in this way, and god, how I love it.

The glass door slides back, agonisingly slowly on its rails, to reveal me naked on the balcony.

I don’t want to look at him yet, and I keep my gaze pinned to his highly polished shoes. I stand cradling the bundle of silk that does its best to cover up my nakedness. But it’s pointless. My ass is hanging out and my breasts are too full to hide.

I hear him breathing, short excited inhales and restrained exhales. He’s trying his best to stay calm. No doubt his jaw is tightly clenched, pulsing as he grinds his teeth together. He must be as hard as a rock, I hope, as a smile escapes me.

It feels like an age before he speaks. I just want him to take me into his arms and punish me for my disobedience, yet I keep my head bowed and avoid making the first move.

“Aimee, the balcony is off–limits,” he growls with a hint of disappointment, as if he’s had to tell me this a thousand times before.

He waits for my response, but I allow the seconds to tick by. He wants me to answer, but I keep my lips pressed together, barring any retort. I can feel the need increasing in him; the heat pulses off of his delicious, suit–clad body.

I know exactly what I am doing – winding him up. Wanting him to get angry so that he’ll take me hard against the rails of the balcony for everyone to see. But tonight, his tone is off… something doesn’t feel quite right.

“Why do you disobey me?” He moves closer, his legs straddle the boundary onto the balcony, and I catch a whiff of his spicy scent. I try to resist, but my body overcomes my mind, and my eyes roll back into my head as I breathe him in deeper. I hate myself for longing to step forward. For wanting to bury my face into his neck as he slips a finger into my wet cunt; I know what we are doing is wrong, but he is everything to me now.

I almost don’t remember the question as his arm darts out and clamps itself around my wrist. Sparks fly up my arm, and I am ready for him to take me.

“Answer me!” Lex cries as he pulls me inside and whips the sliding door shut. The force causes the glass to crack as it hits the vertical frame running up the wall. This is not how the game normally plays out.

My chest is about to burst, and blood rushes to my head trying to make me see sense; he’s different.

A momentary look of confusion flashes across Lex’s face as he looks back at the splintering glass clinging to the internal door–frame; a spider–web pattern spreads from the bottom corner all the way to the very top, making sharp cracking noises as it continues to fills the area… It reminds us both, perhaps, of our broken selves, our ever present flaws.

Lex looks away, and I notice a barely visible shake of his head, as if he’s trying to erase the last few seconds… or weeks. Almost inaudible, I hear him mutter, “…not the way it should be.”

Turning back to face me, his hand lifts from my wrist, and gently, ever so lightly with his fingertips, he raises my chin so that my eyes rest upon his.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. His face suddenly turns to stone, as if he were a robot, and his emotion–chip was deactivated. “I’m leaving.”

I scrunch my face up in confusion. I search his eyes, trying to find the real meaning in his words. Why was he saying this? This was not my Lex. Where was the dominance, my punishment? He’s given up. This is not how I wanted to win!

I look again; he’s serious and perfectly calm as if there never was and never will be another storm between us.

Chapter Two

M
y mind goes blank; I can’t think what to say to him. The words fail to leave my lips. How can he just leave? He can’t just forget what we have.

Not believing him, I manage to stutter, “What? Why? You can’t go.”

For a second, his crystal blue eyes fill with regret, a trace of emotion… but his rigid face tells a different story.

Lex pulls the silk robe free from my hands and shakes it out. He holds it out upright, clearly wanting me to slip it on. This feels so weird; he’s normally so anxious for me to be naked. After a few moments his fingers make a delicate knot, and the silk belt is securely tied around my waist.

I step forward, hoping my closeness will encourage him to explain himself. I need to feel his body up against mine. I start to reach for his cock, but he carefully pushes me away like a meal he’s finished with. His warm hands cup my face and hope spreads through me. He won’t leave me; it was all just a silly game. Please let it all be a game…

Lex stares at me, but his eyes don’t engage with mine; I am made of glass and he’s looking right through me. I go ice–cold.

“I’m bored with you,” he declares with malice, and my stomach drops as if it’s been tossed out the window like trash, my heart along with it. He lets go of me and walks away, never glancing back.

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