The elevator doors of the Voss penthouse slid open with a whisper, but to Damien, it sounded like a gunshot.
He didn't look up from his crystal tumbler of scotch. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the skyline of the city laid out like a conquered kingdom.
He was 26, the CEO of a global empire, and he had just spent twelve hours crushing competitors. He wanted silence. He wanted the dark.
Instead, he got the scent of vanilla and peach.
"Hi, Damien," a soft, hesitant voice drifted across the marble floor.
He turned slowly. Sera. His new stepsister stood there, clutching the handles of two designer suitcases. She looked painfully out of place in his cold, minimalist sanctuary.
She was wearing a white sundress that was far too thin for the air-conditioned chill of the penthouse. The light from the chandelier caught the curve of her breasts and the dangerous shortness of her hem.
"Dad said the renovations on the new estate are behind schedule," she whispered, biting her lower lip. "He said you had plenty of room."
"My father has a habit of giving away things that don't belong to him," Damien growled, his voice a low, vibrating rasp. He took a slow step toward her, his custom-tailored black suit making him look like a predator carved from shadow.
He stopped inches from her. He was a head taller, forcing her to tilt her neck back. She smelled like innocence, but her eyes; wide and dark were tracking the movement of his throat.
"The guest room is to the left," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "I work late. I leave early. Do not touch my things. Do not talk to me. And for God's sake, Sera... stay out of my way."
"Is it... that hard to look at me?" she challenged, her voice trembling but bold.
Damien's eyes darkened. "It's too easy to look at you. That's the problem. Go," he commanded.
Three hours later, the penthouse was a furnace. A localized power surge had knocked out the HVAC system, and the floor-to-ceiling glass was radiating the day's trapped heat.
Damien stripped off his shirt, his chest slick with sweat. He couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the way that white dress had clung to Sera's thighs.
He walked to the kitchen, his bare feet silent. He needed ice. He needed to drown the fire in his blood.
He froze at the entrance of the kitchen.
Sera was there, bathed in the blue light of the open refrigerator. She had discarded the dress. She was wearing a tiny pink ribbed tank top and matching lace panties. The fabric was damp with sweat, turning translucent. He could see the dark circles of her nipples peaking through the cotton, hard and demanding.
She was leaning over the counter, drinking water directly from a pitcher, the liquid spilling down her chin and onto the swell of her chest.
"Sera," he rasped.
She jumped, the pitcher clattering onto the marble. She didn't cover herself. She didn't run. She stood there, her chest heaving, watching him.
"It's so hot, Damien," she breathed. She took a step toward him, her bare thighs rubbing together. "I couldn't sleep."
"I told you to stay in your room," he said, but he was moving toward her now, his hand reaching out to grip the edge of the counter, pinning her in.
"You're staring," she whispered, her eyes dropping to the heavy, pulsing ridge in his silk lounge pants. "You're staring at your sister like you want to break her."
"You aren't my sister," Damien snarled.
He moved like a blur. His hand shot out, his fingers wrapping firmly around her throat, not to hurt, but to claim. He slammed her back against the cold marble counter. A glass shattered on the floor, but neither cared.
"You've been parading around this house waiting for this, haven't you?" He leaned in, his nose brushing hers. "You want the big, bad boy CEO to ruin you so you don't have to be the 'good girl' anymore."
"Yes," she gasped, her hands flying to his biceps, her nails digging into his skin. "Do it. I've been wet for you since the wedding, Damien. I watched you at the altar and imagined you doing exactly this."
Damien let out a guttural sound, half-growl, half-groan. He crashed his lips against hers. It wasn't a kiss; it was a conquest.
His tongue forced its way past her teeth, claiming her mouth while his other hand ripped the pink tank top down to her waist.
Her breasts spilled out; heavy, pale, and tipped with dark, aching points.
"Look at these," he groaned against her lips, his hand catching one and squeezing it hard. "Teasing me all night. You're a filthy little brat, Sera."
He lowered his head, his mouth hovering over her nipple before he surged forward, taking the entire areola into his mouth. He sucked hard, his teeth grazing the tip until she screamed, her back arching off the counter.
"Damien... please —"
"Please what?" He growled, his hand sliding down to the waistband of her panties. He didn't pull them down: he ripped the lace to the side, exposing her. She was drenched. The scent of her arousal filled the small space between them.
He plunged two fingers inside her, finding her so tight and slick he nearly lost his mind. He fucked her with his hand, his thumb grinding against her swollen clit in a rhythmic, brutal circle.
"You're dripping for me," he whispered into her ear. "Does your dad know his daughter is a slut for her stepbrother?"
"I don't care," she sobbed, her legs shaking. "Give it to me. I need it. I need you inside me."
Damien stepped back just enough to free himself. His cock sprang out, nine inches of thick, veined meat, throbbing with a heavy drop of pre-cum at the tip.
"On your knees, Sera. Show me how much you want to this."
She dropped instantly. The sight of the innocent girl in pink lace kneeling before him, her mouth open and eyes glassy, was the final nail in the coffin of his restraint.
He grabbed her hair, tilting her head back, and shoved his length into her mouth in one deep, territorial thrust.
She gagged, her small hands wrapping around his thick thighs for balance, but she didn't pull away. She took him deeper, her tongue swirling around the head, her eyes locked on his as she swallowed him whole.
"Good girl," he hissed, his fingers tightening in her hair. "Take it all."
He didn't let her finish. He pulled her up, spun her around, and bent her over the kitchen island. Her ass was hiked high, her pink panties hanging off one ankle.
He lined himself up and thrusted hard.
The sound of the impact; the wet slap of his groin against her backside echoed through the silent penthouse. Sera let out a high-pitched wail of pure pleasure, her fingers scratching at the marble.
"You're so deep," she choked out. "I can feel you in my stomach."
"I'm going to be everywhere," Damien promised, his voice thick with lust.
He pulled back until he was almost out, then drove back in, over and over, his pace becoming frantic, animalistic.
He reached around, his fingers finding her clit again, working her into a frenzy while he railed her from behind.
The kitchen was filled with the sounds of their sin; the heavy thud of his thrusts, her rhythmic moans, and the sticky friction of their bodies.
Sera's internal muscles began to squeeze him, a rhythmic pulsing that told him she was close. "Damien! I'm—I'm going to—!"
"Do it," he commanded, his teeth sinking into the skin of her shoulder. "Cum for me, Sera. Clench that tight little cunt around your brother's cock."
She shattered. Her body went rigid, her pussy spasming around him so hard it was painful. Damien felt his own control snap.
He pulled out at the last possible second, his hand gripping the back of her neck as he spun her around to her knees one last time.
"Open up."
He groaned as he came, thick, hot ropes of cum painting her face, her tongue, and the ruined remains of her pink top.
She didn't look away. She watched him, her lips parted, catching every drop.
Silence returned to the penthouse, broken only by their ragged breathing.
Damien reached down, his thumb wiping a smear of his seed from her lower lip. He shoved the finger into her mouth, and she sucked it clean, her eyes dark with a promise of more.
"This never happened," Damien said, his voice cold once again, though his eyes remained predatory. "In the morning, I'm your brother. Do you understand?"
Sera wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smiled a slow, filthy smile that reached her eyes.
"Whatever you say... 'big brother.'"
She turned and walked away, her hips swaying, leaving Damien alone in the dark.
But they both knew the truth.
This was just the beginning....