Chapter 1 -My Step-uncle

• “Come here.”
• The two words, low and commanding, stopped me in my tracks. My heart stuttered, my pulse pounding in my ears as I stood frozen.
• I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
• He sighed softly, the sound edged with something darker, as if he enjoyed the way I hesitated. The way I faltered.
• “Did you hear me?” he asked, his voice dripping with authority. “I said, come here.”
• I turned slowly, my breath catching when I met his gaze.
• His eyes were dark, piercing, and filled with an intensity I didn’t know how to handle.
• He stood there, leaning casually against the counter, yet there was nothing casual about the way he looked at me. Like he owned the moment. Like he owned me.
• “I’m not a little girl. I’m not someone you can order around,” I said, my voice shaky but defiant.
• His lips curved into a slow, dangerous smirk. “You sure about that?” he asked teasingly.
• My cheeks burned, and I hated the way my body betrayed me—how my knees felt weak and how my hands trembled at my sides.
• He pushed off the counter, closing the distance between us in a few deliberate steps.
• “You’re hesitating again, aren’t you?” he asked, leaning even closer. “What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll like it if you do as you’re told?” He whispered into my ear, his breath so hot it made my core throb.
• I opened my mouth to argue, to throw some biting remark at him, but the words died on my tongue when his hand reached out, his fingers brushing against my chin.
• He tilted my face up, forcing me to meet his gaze. His thumb dragged lazily across my bottom lip, the gesture intimate, possessive.
• “Say it,” he murmured, his tone dropping lower, rougher. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”
• I hated him for giving me the choice. I hated him even more for the way my body refused to pull away.
• “You’re impossible,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
• He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating low in his chest. “That’s not what I asked you to say.”
• His hand slid lower, tracing the line of my jaw, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck.
• When his palm flattened against my throat, my breath hitched. He didn’t squeeze or apply pressure—he didn’t need to. The weight of his hand was enough to leave me feeling completely at his mercy.
• “Say it,” he repeated, his tone rougher now, more insistent.
• “Daddy,” I whispered, the word tumbling from my lips before I could stop it.
• His smirk deepened, his grip tightening just slightly, enough to make me gasp. “Good girl,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
• Before I could even process the words, his lips were on mine—hot, demanding, and utterly consuming.
• “Mmhmm,” he groaned, deepening the kiss, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, holding me in place as his tongue swept into my mouth, claiming every inch of me.
• My hands found his chest, intending to push him away, but instead, I clung to him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His other hand slid to my waist, pulling me closer until there wasn’t a sliver of space left between us.
• When he finally pulled back, his lips brushed against mine as he spoke, his voice dark and teasing. “See? I always get what I want.”
• ---
• *BEFORE THE ENCOUNTER*
• I sat in front of the mirror, applying bold red lipstick when I heard a loud knock on my door.
• “Lyra, aren’t you done yet?!” my mom yelled.
• “Almost!” I responded, turning back to glance at my reflection in the mirror once more.
• I didn’t know why, but I felt like the lipstick was a bit too much. Although it was my mother’s idea that I dress up “elegantly.”
• We were going to see her fiancé’s family, and we had to match their standards, even though we weren’t as rich as we were going to portray.
• ---
• We pulled up in front of the enormous mansion while the guards opened the gates for us to drive in.
• This was new to me—rather, weird. Not only because my mother was getting married to another man in a few months, but also because I wasn’t sure how I was going to get used to calling another man “father.”
• It’s been three years since my father died, and I haven’t gotten over him. I don’t think I ever will.
• Once we stepped out of the car, Mr. Thorian approached us with a warm smile.
• He hugged my mother, planting a kiss on her cheek before turning to me.
• “Hey, Lee,” he said. I rolled my eyes in annoyance because I hated when he called me that; only my father was allowed to call me that.
• I quickly masked my frustration with a smile, but my smile soon faded when my eyes caught sight of a man who had just stepped out of the exit door.
• My breath hitched in my throat as he began to approach us. The closer he came, the more I felt my whole body tremble, my heart pounding so hard I could barely stand.
• This man was undeniably the most handsome man I’d ever laid my eyes on, with tousled blonde hair and a chiseled jawline.
• But it was his piercing blue eyes that captivated me the most.
• They sparkled with an intensity that felt almost possessive. And the way he stared made warmth from his gaze spread through my whole body, down to my thighs. I—I wanted him.
• “Hi, Mrs. Zephyra, it’s nice to finally meet you. My big brother over here has told me a lot about you,” he said, gesturing toward Mr. Thorian, my mom’s fiancé.
• My eyes flew open in shock, the realization hitting me like a jolt; he was going to be my step-uncle?! Oh God!
• I was so carried away by the thought of him being my step-uncle that I didn’t realize he was already talking to me.
• “You must be Lyra, right?” he asked, and in that moment, I forgot I could even speak.