The streetlamp overhead flickered, casting a sickly yellow glow over the man who had me pinned against the rough asphalt. My heart was a frantic bird against my ribs, but the moment I looked into those dark, turbulent eyes, the scream died in my throat.
"Caleb..." I gasped, my voice breaking.
"Where the hell have you been?" He didn't let go. His grip on my arms was iron, his chest heaving with a mixture of exertion and a terrifying, cold fury. "I called you thirty times, Nina. Thirty times."
The fear of the "stranger" evaporated, replaced by the suffocating intensity that had been brewing between us since the night before. He didn't help me up.
Instead, he crowded over me, his knees settling between my thighs as I sat on the cold ground. The scrape on my knee stung, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating from him.
"I was with Gina," I whispered, my eyes welling up. "I didn't see the calls."
"You were with Gina," he repeated, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low vibration. He leaned in closer, his shadow swallowing me whole. "While I was driving through every street in this neighborhood thinking someone had finally taken what's mine? While I was losing my mind imagining you touched by someone else?"
"Yours?" I challenged, the guilt and the makeup I'd used to hide my pain suddenly feeling like a lie. "You don't get to say that. Not when you go home to her.
Not when you treat me like a ghost."
The mention of Shane seemed to snap the last thread of his control. Caleb’s hand moved from my arm to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair, pulling my head back until I had to look at him.
"You think she matters?" he growled, his face inches from mine. "You think I was thinking about her last night when I was in your room? You think I’m thinking about her now?"
He didn't give me a chance to answer. He crushed his mouth against mine right there on the dark, deserted road. It was a kiss of pure, unadulterated possession—harsh, desperate, and punishing. My hands flew to his chest, intending to push him away, but the moment my palms met the hard muscle of his torso, my fingers curled into his shirt.
I was weak for him. I was pathetic. Even after everything, the feeling of his tongue forcing its way into my mouth made my entire body go limp with desire.
His hand slid down from my hair, moving under the hem of my skirt. His fingers were cold from the night air, but they felt like liquid fire against my inner thigh. I let out a choked moan as he found the edge of my panties, his touch heavy and demanding.
"Caleb, someone will see," I whimpered, though I was already arching into his hand.
"Let them look," he rasped against my lips, his thumb finding the sensitive core that was already aching for him. "Let the whole world see that you're the only thing that's ever made me feel alive."
He hiked my skirt higher, his movements frantic and rough. The danger of the dark alleyway, the sting of my scraped knees, and the taboo of our names all blurred into a haze of raw, carnal need. He wasn't the "Mr. C" I told Gina about anymore; he was a man who had reached his breaking point.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with a promise of the ruinous night to come. "We're going home," he breathed, his voice a jagged edge. "And I’m going to make sure you never stay out late again. I’m going to make sure you’re too sore to even think about leaving your bed."
He stood up, hauling me into his arms with a strength that left me breathless. As he carried me toward the house, the silence of the night felt like a witness to our final descent into the forbidden.
The 500-meter walk felt like an eternity, but once the front door clicked shut behind us, the silence of the house felt heavier than the storm. Caleb didn't put me down gently; he slid me down his body until my feet hit the hardwood floor, but he kept me pinned against the door, his weight a solid, suffocating presence.
The hallway light was dim, casting long, dramatic shadows. I could see the pulse jumping in his neck, the raw adrenaline still coursing through him.
"Caleb, let me go," I whispered, though my hands were still bunched in the fabric of his jacket. "You have a girlfriend. You have a life that doesn't include me."
"Shut up about her," he growled, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned down, burying his face in the crook of my neck. He inhaled sharply, as if he were trying to memorize my scent. "You think I brought her here to hurt you? I brought her here to try and save myself from this."
He pulled back, his eyes searching mine with a terrifying intensity. "But it didn't work. Seeing you look at me with that heartbreak in your eyes... seeing you cry because of her... it just made me want to burn everything down."
Before I could process his words, he caught my jaw in his hand, forcing my face up. "I stayed away because I’m a monster, Nina. I’m five years older, I’m your brother by law, and I’ve wanted to mark every inch of you since the day you turned eighteen."
He didn't wait for my permission. He reclaimed my mouth with a feverish hunger that made my knees buckle. This wasn't the tentative touch from the street; this was the release of years of starvation. His tongue surged deep, tasting of desperation and possessiveness.
He hoisted me up, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried me toward his bedroom—the one place I was always forbidden to enter. He kicked the door open and tossed me onto the center of his bed. The mattress was firm, smelling of his cologne and something dark and enticing.
I scrambled back, my heart thundering, but he was on me in a second. He stripped his jacket and shirt off, his muscles rippling under the dim light of a single bedside lamp. When he reached for his belt, his eyes never left mine.
"You wanted to know why I sneak into your room?" he asked, his voice a low, jagged rasp as he crowded back into my space, his bare chest pressing against my silk blouse. "Because I needed to know you were still there. I needed to touch you just enough to keep myself sane, even if it meant living in the dark."
He reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he unbuttoned the top of my shirt. "Tonight, we're done with the dark."
He leaned down, his lips trailing fire from my collarbone to the swell of my breast. Every touch was a claim, every kiss a confession. As the last of our clothes hit the floor, the world outside—the "taboo," the parents, the girl who meant nothing—vanished. There was only the heat of his skin, the weight of his body, and the realization that for Caleb, I wasn't just a sister. I was his entire, ruinous obsession.
The air in the room was electric, thick with the scent of rain and the heavy, intoxicating musk of Caleb’s skin. Every breath I took was filled with him. He hovered over me, his body a masterpiece of tension and raw power, silhouetted against the dim light.
"Look at me, Nina," he commanded, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that settled deep in my stomach.
I opened my eyes, meeting his dark, blown-out pupils. There was no more coldness, no more distance. There was only a man who had finally stopped fighting himself. He moved his hand between us, his fingers finding the center of my longing, and I let out a sharp, shattered cry as he began to move.
"You’re so wet for me," he whispered, a dark, possessive pride in his tone. "After all the running, all the pretending... you’re still only mine."
"Caleb..." I whimpered, my head thrashing against the pillows.
"Please... I can't take it anymore."
"I know," he groaned, his own restraint snapping.
He moved over me, his thighs forcing mine wide, pinning me to the mattress with the sheer weight of his desire.
When he entered me, it wasn't a slow transition; it was a deep, soul-searing invasion. I arched my back, my fingers digging into the muscles of his arms, a silent scream caught in my throat. It felt like every cell in my body was finally being aligned, like the jagged pieces of a puzzle were finally being forced together.
He moved with a rhythmic, punishing intensity. Every thrust was a declaration, a way of erasing every moment he had spent with Shane, every meal he had eaten in silence, every year he had spent acting like I didn't exist. He wasn't just taking my body; he was taking my heart, my soul, and every secret I had ever kept from him.
"You're mine," he panted, his sweat dripping onto my skin, hot and visceral. "Say it, Nina. Tell me who you belong to."
"Yours," I sobbed, the pleasure reaching a crescendo that felt like it would tear me apart. "Always yours, Caleb."
The world outside—the university, Gina’s warnings, the legalities of our family—disintegrated. There was only the friction of skin on skin, the sound of our joined breaths, and the blinding white heat that began to explode behind my eyelids.
Caleb’s movements became more frantic, more desperate, as if he were trying to merge his very being into mine. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as he hit his own breaking point. With a final, guttural roar of my name, he collapsed against me, his heart thudding violently against my own.
For a long time, the only sound in the room was our jagged breathing and the distant, fading rhythm of the rain. He didn't pull away. He stayed draped over me, heavy and protective, his hand moving to stroke my hair with a tenderness that brought fresh tears to my eyes.
The silence was finally broken, not by a ghost or a shadow, but by the man who had finally stepped out of the darkness to claim me.
