Mated To My Obsessive Stepbrother novel Chapter 304

Chapter 304

KASMINE.

The bathtub was filled with hot water, roses, and fragrances that smelled like the start of a sin. Jasmine, vanilla, the faintest trace of musk. It clung to my skin, soaked into my hair, and curled into my lungs.

I was cradled between his thighs, my back resting flush against his chest. I could hear the frantic beating of his heart, like he was about to do something forbidden.

His palm glided across my shoulder, slick with lather from the shower gel. He was taking his time, dragging his hand along the slope of my neck, down my collarbone, across the curve of my breast like he was memorizing me all over again.

It felt like he was worshipping. Like he’d sinned, and this was his penance–serving me with patience he barely had.

I had noticed earlier today that he had my exact hair products in his bathroom but I hadn’t even had the time yet to process it or to wonder why.

But I was done processing things for now. I deserved a little rest.

My eyes fluttered closed, and I let myself lean back, my damp head resting just beneath his chin, leaving my neck exposed to him. I felt his breath catch against my skin–just a small hitch–and then a kiss followed. It was featherlight and trembling, and it landed right there beneath my ear.

He was quiet, but I felt the words he didn’t say settle into my bones.

A shudder left me when his hand slipped lower, gliding slowly down my stomach. My breath snagged at the way he moved, like he

was terrified this would be the last time he touched me, and he wanted it to matter.

He was stripping me of all resistance.

The ache in my chest turned into something raw that made me want to turn around and sob against his mouth. Because as broken as this was, as twisted and wrong as so much of it had been… this was the man I kept forgetting lived underneath all the chaos. The man who loved so fiercely it broke him.

He reached for the loofah again, but his hand hesitated on my waist.

“Kasmine…” His voice was hoarse. “You don’t want to stay. I know. But you’re here. And I’m holding you. So I’m going to pretend- for just a little while–that I haven’t lost you.”

My throat tightened. My chest felt like it might crack open.

“I just need… I need to take care of you. Let me take care of you, please.”

I turned slightly, just enough to glance up at him, and God, the look in his eyes–those deep green irises that had once terrified me -were soft. So open I could barely stand it.

His lips were parted, his expression carved from grief, devotion, and love so deep it didn’t know how to be anything else.

“Kester…” I whispered.

But he didn’t let me finish.

Down past my ribs, my navel, dragging through the thin layer of water that lapped at my hips. My breath hitched–caught in my throat when his fingers brushed the top of my mound.

He pressed his hand down, cupping me gently without moving.