Takeover: A Step-Brother Romance (The Legacy Book 1) by Lana Grayson
Authors: Lana Grayson
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Do it. We’re alone. No one would know. No one would see. You have me at your mercy so if you’re going to rape me, just do it and get it over with—”
Nicholas rushed, seizing me within his grasp. The shock choked me, and I flailed instead of screamed. Trapped in his iron embrace, he hauled me from the path and slammed me against the base of a towering redwood. I dug my fingers into his suit. It did nothing. Nicholas shook me, forced me against the cool, uncaring tree trunk.
He dared to kiss me.
Not a gentle, story-book kiss meant to reassure my fears and redeem my trust in the man slinking into the overgrown forest to steal what I wasn’t prepared to give.
Not a passionate, lust-crazed demand that would fuel our desire and trap us both in the carnal urges and natural cravings that existed only within the wilds.
Nicholas kissed me because I was his. He was my captor. Everything his family promised and everything he threatened would come true.
His lips crushed mine with a ragged, possessive heat. My body pinned against the tree as he slammed my wrists hard into the bark. He forced one arm to my side and drew the other over my head. I struggled, but his nibbling, expert pressure against my mouth forced a gasp.
From my parted lips, he attacked. His tongue stole a flick against mine. I twisted against his hold.
And I was punished.
Or rewarded?
Nicholas pushed, trapping me against his chest. I weakened in his power, amazed by the stirring unwelcomed sensations sizzling the tempted rapture over my skin.
Everywhere he touched burned—a fiery indignity and searing passion. He treated me with disrespect, and I seethed against the strength that so easily took my kiss.
The molten response bubbled inside me, folding and rising and taking me with more demands than his embrace.
My core tightened.
My legs trembled.
I tensed.
I hated him.
More than Reed or Max. More than Darius.
But my body surrendered everything sane and good and reasonable within my soul and blackened it with the corruption of the Bennetts. He held my hands. He pinned me. His strength moved against my petite frame as though he could break through me and the redwood with a single, vigorous thrust.
I imagined his ferocity.
And groaned.
But Nicholas pulled away. His breath tore through his body just as ragged as mine. I struggled to smack him, but he didn’t release my hands.
I didn’t think he’d ever release me.
I wasn’t sure I wanted him to.
All the more reason to fight and escape before I decimated what remained of my pride.
His crisp scent enveloped me with a clean masculinity. My wrists bruised in his grip. I didn’t care. The threatening promise of his form was too much, too fast, too overwhelming. His presence dulled my senses and forged forbidden and sensual fantasies that layered me with shame.
I tried to swear, but I had no strength left to speak. Instead I glowered, and he welcomed my resistance with a low whisper.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Ms. Atwood.” He pulled my wrists to his chest, binding me to him. “When it comes time, I won’t chase you. You’ll come to me.”
“I doubt that.”
His predator grin layered me with goose bumps.
“I’ll break you, Ms. Atwood, this is my promise. I will take you, mold you, and control you. You’ll surrender to me. I won’t hurt you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t devour you entirely.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I learned something about myself today.” His lips pressed against my ear, his words a secret only for me. “I’m doing this because I can .”
He pulled me from the tree and hauled me to the bike. My vision darkened, but the flush of heat and rage, passion and resistance provided me the strength to preserve my pride. Nicholas ordered me to hold him. I had nothing to clutch but his muscular chest as he returned me to the Bennett Estate.
He tried to intimidate me.
But I knew better. I saw through it, and the glimpse into his mind made
Nicholas rushed, seizing me within his grasp. The shock choked me, and I flailed instead of screamed. Trapped in his iron embrace, he hauled me from the path and slammed me against the base of a towering redwood. I dug my fingers into his suit. It did nothing. Nicholas shook me, forced me against the cool, uncaring tree trunk.
He dared to kiss me.
Not a gentle, story-book kiss meant to reassure my fears and redeem my trust in the man slinking into the overgrown forest to steal what I wasn’t prepared to give.
Not a passionate, lust-crazed demand that would fuel our desire and trap us both in the carnal urges and natural cravings that existed only within the wilds.
Nicholas kissed me because I was his. He was my captor. Everything his family promised and everything he threatened would come true.
His lips crushed mine with a ragged, possessive heat. My body pinned against the tree as he slammed my wrists hard into the bark. He forced one arm to my side and drew the other over my head. I struggled, but his nibbling, expert pressure against my mouth forced a gasp.
From my parted lips, he attacked. His tongue stole a flick against mine. I twisted against his hold.
And I was punished.
Or rewarded?
Nicholas pushed, trapping me against his chest. I weakened in his power, amazed by the stirring unwelcomed sensations sizzling the tempted rapture over my skin.
Everywhere he touched burned—a fiery indignity and searing passion. He treated me with disrespect, and I seethed against the strength that so easily took my kiss.
The molten response bubbled inside me, folding and rising and taking me with more demands than his embrace.
My core tightened.
My legs trembled.
I tensed.
I hated him.
More than Reed or Max. More than Darius.
But my body surrendered everything sane and good and reasonable within my soul and blackened it with the corruption of the Bennetts. He held my hands. He pinned me. His strength moved against my petite frame as though he could break through me and the redwood with a single, vigorous thrust.
I imagined his ferocity.
And groaned.
But Nicholas pulled away. His breath tore through his body just as ragged as mine. I struggled to smack him, but he didn’t release my hands.
I didn’t think he’d ever release me.
I wasn’t sure I wanted him to.
All the more reason to fight and escape before I decimated what remained of my pride.
His crisp scent enveloped me with a clean masculinity. My wrists bruised in his grip. I didn’t care. The threatening promise of his form was too much, too fast, too overwhelming. His presence dulled my senses and forged forbidden and sensual fantasies that layered me with shame.
I tried to swear, but I had no strength left to speak. Instead I glowered, and he welcomed my resistance with a low whisper.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Ms. Atwood.” He pulled my wrists to his chest, binding me to him. “When it comes time, I won’t chase you. You’ll come to me.”
“I doubt that.”
His predator grin layered me with goose bumps.
“I’ll break you, Ms. Atwood, this is my promise. I will take you, mold you, and control you. You’ll surrender to me. I won’t hurt you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t devour you entirely.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I learned something about myself today.” His lips pressed against my ear, his words a secret only for me. “I’m doing this because I can .”
He pulled me from the tree and hauled me to the bike. My vision darkened, but the flush of heat and rage, passion and resistance provided me the strength to preserve my pride. Nicholas ordered me to hold him. I had nothing to clutch but his muscular chest as he returned me to the Bennett Estate.
He tried to intimidate me.
But I knew better. I saw through it, and the glimpse into his mind made
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