I hate the way he watches me.
Like he's waiting for me to crack.
Like every small move I make is dissected.

Leo Duvalier. My stepbrother.
Technically family. Functionally a nightmare.

Family dinner is new.
New husband for my mom, new table, new rules.
He sits across from me, eyes fixed on me like I'm the only thing on the menu.
The rest of us pass the food and pretend this is normal.

Because if I so much as look back, Mom will notice.
David will notice.
And then the whispering would start—the kind that spreads through walls, that turns dinners into arguments and arguments into divorce.
I can feel it waiting under the surface, one spark away.

So I smile. I laugh. I pretend I don't feel his gaze like a hand on my skin.

And when no one's watching, he proves it's not just in my head.
He grabs my hips, pins me against him, palms everywhere. Rough, claiming, hot.
His breath hits my ear and his voice turns filthy.
He tells me what he thinks about while he sits across from me at dinner, what he wants to do with his hands, his mouth.
With my mouth.
Like he's already fucked me in his head a hundred times and he's just waiting for me to catch up.

I'm not supposed to want him.
I'm trying not to want him.
He makes it impossible.
And every time I think I've got the upper hand, he shows me how easily he can take it back.

Author's Note: Give In, Be Mine includes dominance, obsession, violence, and intense sexual power exchange. If that's not your thing, skip this one.