The Tyrant's Secret fetish-Chapter 79

Ye Jun

I stood there with the water hammering my back like it was trying to punish me for existing, palms flat on the cold tile, and Si Woo just wouldn’t fucking leave. The door clicked shut behind him, lock turning with that stupid little snick that sounded way too final. My heart was already doing cartwheels from the argument, from the slap I’d given him earlier, from the way he’d stormed out and then stormed right back in like some deranged ex who couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill me or keep me.

"Get out," I said again, louder this time, but it cracked halfway like my voice had given up on me too. I didn’t turn around. Didn’t need to. I could feel him there, clothes probably soaked already, eyes locked on my ass like it owed him money.

He didn’t move. Just stood there dripping, breathing heavy. Then he laughed, that short, ugly sound he makes when he’s pissed and horny at the same time. "You really think scrubbing like that’s gonna do shit, Ye Jun? You think hot water and soap erase me? Cute. Real fucking cute."

"Shut up and leave," I snapped, shoving my hands harder against the wall so I wouldn’t spin around and punch him again. My neck still burned where he’d bitten it earlier, and the water wasn’t helping, just making everything sting more.

He stepped closer. Water splashed around his feet. I heard the wet slap of his shoes. "No. You don’t get to tell me what to do . Not after that little speech downstairs. Not after you let some Thai pretty boy put his hands on you and like you’re his goddamn pet project."

I spun then, because screw him. Water flew everywhere. "I don’t owe you a single damn thing, Si Woo. You’re my stepbrother. That’s it. You don’t own my body, you don’t own my time, and you sure as hell don’t get to stand here judging me while your dick’s probably half-hard just from smelling me."

He grinned, but it wasn’t nice. Water ran down his face, shirt plastered to his chest, and he looked like a wet stray dog that had decided to bite. "Oh, I don’t own it? That’s hilarious coming from you. You’re the one who spreads his legs every time I crook a finger. You’re the one who begs for it when Dad’s downstairs and Mom’s asleep. I own this body, little brother. Every inch. And I’m gonna fuck it whenever the hell I want, whenever I feel like it, because that’s how this works between us."

I shoved at his chest, hands slipping on the wet fabric. "The fuck you are. Get out before I scream loud enough for the whole house to hear."

He grabbed my wrists, easy, like I was a kid throwing a tantrum. Pinned them against the tile above my head with one hand. The other came up, thumb brushing my jaw even though I tried to jerk away. "You don’t get to judge me either. Not anymore. You think I’m the hypocrite? Fine. But look at you. Naked. Hard already even though you’re yelling at me. Has anyone ever told you how suckable your tits are? Those little nipples get so fucking puffy when you’re pissed off and turned on at the same time. I could spend hours on them. And your mouth? Jesus, Ye Jun. That tongue of yours. The way it curls around my dick like it was made for it. You know how good it feels? You know how you whimper when I’m down your throat and you still try to talk shit around it?"

My face went hot. Not from the water. "Stop. Just shut your mouth."

He didn’t. He leaned in closer, breath mixing with the steam. "No, you’re gonna hear this. All of it. Because you need to know how good you make me feel, even when you’re being a little brat. Remember how you arch your back when I’m fucking you from behind? How you push back like you can’t get enough? Or the way you scratch my shoulders when you’re close, leaving those red lines I have to hide under my shirt? You clench around me so tight I see stars, and then you cry out my name like it’s the only word you remember. And the sounds you make? That little broken moan when I hit the right spot? Fuck, it turns me on so bad I can’t think straight. You’re a goddamn maniac in bed, Ye Jun. My maniac. You bite my neck when you cum, you suck hickeys on my chest like you’re trying to mark me back, and you always, always beg for more even when you’re shaking."

I was pushing harder now, twisting my wrists, water flying. "I said stop! I don’t want to hear your creepy list, you sick fuck. Let go!"

He tightened his grip, not hurting, just enough to keep me there. "You do want to hear it. You have to. Because that’s the truth. I’m not letting you wash me off and pretend Ohm’s gonna give you this. He won’t. He’ll be all sweet and flowers and you’ll get bored in a week because you need this. You need me telling you how your hole flutters when I knot you, how you get so wet I can hear it, how you look at me like you hate me and want me to ruin you at the same time."

"Get your hands off me!" I yelled, kicking at his leg. My foot slipped on the wet floor and I almost ate shit, but he caught me, pulled me against his soaked chest.

"Listen," he growled, voice dropping low. "You make me feel like a god when you’re under me. When you’re on your knees looking up with those big eyes. When you ride me and talk shit the whole time. I’m not stopping. I’m your stepbrother and I’m gonna keep fucking you because this body is mine to use."

I headbutted his shoulder, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make him grunt. "You’re delusional. Let me go right now or I swear... "

He cut me off by crashing his mouth on mine. Wet, angry kiss, tongue shoving in like he owned the place. I tasted the soap and the blood from earlier and him, all mixed up. For two stupid seconds I kissed back because my body was a traitor, then I bit his lip hard.

He pulled back with a hiss, blood on his mouth, grinning like an idiot. "There’s my little maniac."

That did it. I shoved with everything I had, hands finally slipping free, and slammed both palms into his chest. He stumbled back a step, water splashing. I spit right on the floor between us, right at his feet. "I’m never having anything to do with you again. Ever. Fuck you and your twisted bullshit."

He stared at me, chest heaving, water dripping off his hair. Then he laughed, actually laughed, short and bitter. "Yeah. Sure. I agree. We’re done. Totally done."