My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 553

Chapter 553

His hands rose to my face. His long, calloused fingers traced my jawline, his thumb pressing lightly against my chin to tilt my face upward.

My chest rose and fell in short, shallow breaths as his fingers moved down my neck. He traced the sensitive line of my throat.

His hand drifted lower, trailing over my collarbone, his knuckles grazing the skin. Every point of contact felt hyper -sensitive, my nerve endings firing rapidly under his control.

The fabric of the dress felt thin, almost nonexistent, as his palms slid down, skimming over the curves of my breasts. A tight, heavy knot coiled deep in my stomach when his thumbs brushed the peaks through the cotton fabric, making me let out a soft, shaky gasp.

His dark eyes tracking the movement of my throat as I swallowed hard.

His hands kept moving, sliding down the narrow curve of my waist, his palms gripping my hips securely, then, his grip shifted. He turned me around, facing me away from him, toward the massive glass windows.

The dark, endless expanse of Lake Michigan stretched out in front of me, but all I could focus on was the his chest pressing against my back.

His fingers found the metal pull of the zipper at the top of my dress.

The sound of the zipper moving down the tracks was incredibly loud in the quiet room. Inch by inch, the cool air hit the bare skin of my spine, followed instantly by the searing heat of his knuckles tracing my spine.

The dress loosened, the straps slipping off my shoulders, pooling down my arms until the fabric slid past my hips and fell to the floor in a heap around my ankles.

I stood there in the center of his secluded living room, completely stripped down to my white lace bra and matching panties.

Next was the belt. The buckle made a sharp click as I undone it, my hands slipped to the button of his trousers, popping it open before slowly sliding the zipper down.

I pushed the dark pants down his hips, watching the fabric pool around his ankles. Raphael lifted one foot, then the other, stepping completely out of them until he was standing in front of me in nothing but his black boxers

His body was unfairly perfect. Then again, that wasn’t exactly surprising. Raphael treated his health like a full time job. Every inch of him was hard muscle, sharp lines, old scars, and the kind of quiet strength that made him look dangerous even when he was standing completely still.

Instead of reaching for me, Raphael turned away. He walked over to the sleek mini bar in the corner. He grabbed a dark glass bottle of whiskey, not bothering with a glass, and walked over to the long couch in the center of the room. He sat down, leaning his back against the cushions, completely relaxed, completely in control.

He reached over to the side of the coffee table and pressed a button.

A mechanical hum vibrated through the floorboards. In the exact center of the large coffee table, a circular metal piece slid open. A long silver pole began to rise from the wood, lifting higher and higher until it locked securely into the high ceiling above.