Takeover: A Step-Brother Romance (The Legacy Book 1)

by Lana Grayson

  “You beat me.”

  “I didn’t kill you.” He leaned over me, his breath foul against my face. “I offer you my generosity, and in return? You refused to give me a grandson. That disappoints me.”

  “Get used to it.”

  “I will not rest until you are swollen, broken, and pregnant.”

  “I’ll kill you before that happens.”

  “Like father, like daughter.” He sighed. “You only respond to violence.”

  His hands groped my hips. His touch was nothing like the gentle brush of his sons’ exploration. He gripped me.

  The sickness rose again. I batted his hands away with a shriek. He ripped my hair back.

  “You’ve been a naughty girl, my dear.” Darius slapped my ass again, eager to listen for my screaming. I didn’t recognize my fear or my frantic cries when he pitched my skirt up and pulled my panties to my knees. “Your father should have taught you better manners. Not to worry. Your new Daddy will help you become a proper little whore.”

  I fought against the desk but earned only another brutal strike that seared me with hot tears. I kicked. Darius dodged. A third strike.

  “Let go of me!” I struggled. He hit again. I shrieked. “Don’t touch me!”

  Why was I even screaming?

  Why was I wasting air?

  Darius had no respect for me, and his grip bound me with every evil he promised. I tensed for another swipe. He beat my head against the desk, laughing as the force echoed in his office. The pain cracked through me. I weakened, and my vision darkened.

  It wouldn’t be enough.

  It would never be enough to dull the horror of what Darius planned.

  Agony burst within my chest. The panic surged with an instant asthma attack, and I wheezed against my futile scream. His fingers prodded. I squeezed my eyes shut.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  They had promised. Each one of them.

  Reed swore he’d protect me like a real brother.

  Max vowed he’d be the only one who would ever hurt me.

  And Nicholas?

  Darius forced a finger in me with a grunted profanity. The sensation nauseated me.

  Nicholas said I would belong to him.

  I was his.

  He promised it, again and again. He whispered it while I was in his arms and he growled it while he came inside me, filling me with his every devotion.

  I was supposed to be his.

  Darius spat. The hot spittle trickled over my skin. He withdrew his hand only to force the wetness between my legs.

  I struggled.

  No.

  Not between my legs.

  He didn’t aim for my slit.

  “I took a vow with your mother.”

  Darius caressed my hips, my curves, my behind. Every touch prickled like a thousand needles, burned like spilled wax, and ached like his relentless strikes.

  What he planned would hurt far worse.

  “I won’t disrespect her honor by knocking up my step-daughter.”

  “So don’t hurt me,” I whispered.

  “You only seem to understand your place when you’re imbedded on a cock.” Darius hauled me up by my hair. His sausage fingers pressed hard against a part of me that hadn’t been touched. I never wanted to be touched there. A shiver rolled over my spine. “This lesson will benefit us both. I love to hear an Atwood scream.”

  His finger jammed inside that most vulnerable part of me.

  And I screamed.

  God, did I scream.

  The violation was nothing like what my step-brothers forced upon me. Where their touches had been passionate and meant to tease, Darius intended to rip me apart from the inside.

  The tears fell and my whimpering begging filled the office. I swatted at his arms, twisted from his grip to escape.

  His hold on my hair was too harsh. He ripped out of me only to spit again, forcing his wetness over my budded entrance. He shifted.

  His zipper tugged down.

  My mind splintered.

  I screamed, even without the invasion of his finger.

  He liked that, but I didn’t know what else to do.

  Darius Bennett wanted me to suffer, and he’d deliver that torment with his cock. He’d brutalize and sodomize me for his own perverse enjoyment.

  I’d never known a fear like this.

  Not when I watched the smoldering wreckage of my brothers’ plane crash on the news.

  Not while my step-brothers chased me through the city streets and wrecked my car within the desolate stretch of my family’s property.

  Not even when I realized how badly it hurt that Nicholas abandoned me.

  I couldn’t move.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  I clutched the desk as though it were the only means to protect me, but the arresting terror wouldn’t let me escape. The desk angled my hips up for Darius. In my horror, I offered him every access to a part of me that should have never been touched.

  I pleaded with Darius to fuck me anywhere but there.

  “This won’t be pleasant for you.” His words already crawled within me, twisting and clawing a way for the rest of him to enter. “But from now on, nothing will be pleasant for you. The sooner you realize, the easier your life will become.”

  The fat head of his cock pushed against me so suddenly I had no time to fight.

  My nail splintered as I tried to claw away.

  His hips thrust forward. My body refused in a wave of nauseating pain. He smacked my ass and tried again.

  The agony shredded through me.

  My scream begged for mercy, but Darius managed only to hurt me, not to imbed himself. He swore and ground against my hips.

  My vision darkened.

  Why wouldn’t I just pass out?

  My world would end in incomprehensible misery.

  I didn’t understand the shouting. Darius jerked, releasing me before any of his grotesque length sullied my violated body.

  I scrambled away, hauling myself over the desk and across the polished wood in a blaze of utter panic. The floor captured me as I tumbled. I kicked my panties away before they tangled around my ankles.

  I collapsed against the wall and tugged my skirt down, down, down.

  Nicholas pitched Darius into his chair and slammed a fist against his jaw. Darius spit a tooth onto the floor.

  “What the hell is the matter with you?” He yelled. “You can hear her screaming from the elevator!”

  Darius roared, but Nicholas punched again. He seethed, leering over his father with a menace I didn’t recognize. I curled into a tight ball and shuddered.

  “Do you want everyone in this building to know you’re raping your step-daughter?” He heaved an unsteady breath. “They’ll call the police, haul her off, and we’ll lose her for-fucking-ever?” Nicholas seized a handful of Darius’s suit and shook. “How the hell would we survive then?”

  The coldness damned me.

  Nicholas saved me.

  But for what?

  To protect me? To spare me pain? To take me as his?

  Or to ensure his investment hadn’t been compromised?

  I stumbled to my feet. Darius sneered at me—disappointed he hadn’t rutted me into pained, ruined submission.

  “She misbehaved.”

  “Then let Max handle it before you kill her and jeopardize the entire company.”

  Nicholas kicked his father’s chair. He rolled, striking the window.

  Not nearly hard enough. He deserved nothing but broken glass and a ten story fall to Hell.

  “I’m taking her home,” Nicholas growled. “Put your cock away. You almost cost us everything.”

  Nicholas gripped my arm. I struggled, but the panic and pain, exhaustion and utter terror leaded my reactions. I wept as the door closed. Darius sealed inside, trapped in his own frustration and sadism.

  The elevator closed. Nicholas didn’t release me.

  I hadn’t expected his kiss.

  I
didn’t think I’d warm to his touch.

  I never knew he could be so gentle.

  He cupped my cheeks and shuddered, dropping his forehead against mine and surrendering to a trembled fear that rivaled my own.

  “Jesus, Sarah.” He kissed me again. I clutched at his arms. “You have to stop me, and you have to stop me now.”

  “Stop you?”

  “Tell me you need me. Ask me to hold you. Beg me to stay.”

  I stared into his eyes, lost in the protective gold. “Why?”

  His breath panted in raw agony.

  “Because if you let me go, I’ll kill my fucking father for hurting you.”

  Rage.

  I never experienced true rage before.

  This was worse than anger. More violent than wrath. Less civilized than madness.

  Hearing her scream iced my core. Witnessing how he tried to violate her clawed through everything composed, guarded, and rational inside me.

  I hit him.

  And it felt good.

  It wasn’t enough.

  I had never wanted blood before—not even when my mother died in front of me and my brothers howled in agony. Then, I wanted what all Bennetts craved.

  Retribution. Justice. Revenge.

  But I never murdered.

  Not until my father touched what wasn’t his, hurt what he had no right to harm, and attempted to take what I’d already claimed.

  Sarah refused my help until we reached the safety of my Mercedes. I helped her into the seat. She grimaced as she repositioned her skirt over her thighs.

  We left her panties in my father’s office.

  If I wasn’t careful, I’d wreck the car in a fit of unbridled fury.

  I clutched the wheel but took her hand before she cowered too far from me. I kissed her delicate fingers. She trembled, but her breathing worried me even more, especially as she wasted her breath on crass insults reserved for my father.

  I hated that I hadn’t cared enough for the woman in my possession to learn the signs and triggers of her illness. That was my fault.

  “How is your asthma?” I asked. “Can you last until we’re home?”

  “My home?” She shivered, but the steel in her eyes hardened the blue into refined grey.

  Her life would be nothing but disappointment caused by my cowardice.

  “No.”

  Sarah’s lip quivered. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

  I doubted it, but I knew better than to argue with Sarah Atwood.

  The silence pierced my head in a migraine of regret. The fear still held me. I’d forever endure nightmares about what might have happened. Reality finally struck both of us. She realized her fate. I saw what would become of my beautiful, brave Sarah once my father sated his lust.

  The one thing she asked of us was to protect her from my father.

  I failed her.

  I should have protected her. She wasn’t hurt because I was too preoccupied with my own plans for her and my company. My father hadn’t outplayed us. I wasn’t weak or out of options.

  I failed Sarah because I hid from her.

  Nothing used to frighten me in this world, not when I had the wealth, power, and ambition to overcome any challenge. But I met my match.

  I surrendered to Sarah Atwood.

  She bound me so tightly in beauty and gentleness and grace I’d relinquished every means of escape. Her words teased. Her lips enthralled. Her body tempted.

  My enemy. My opponent. My step-sister.

  She’d forever destroy what had been the Bennett Empire, and, for the first time, I didn’t care.

  I lost myself within her, and I’d give my name, my inheritance, and my last breath just for a chance to hold, taste, and love her.

  Even if it was only for the fleeting moments while I kept her captive in my life.

  I trapped her at the estate, scooping her into my arms and carrying her into her prison. She squirmed. She wanted to scrape her pride together, patchwork but functional. How she always survived.

  Sarah protested, but her fingers curled into my suit. She held on as tight to me as I clung to her.

  I’d never let her go again.

  I hadn’t allowed her to trespass in my wing or explore my suite, and I didn’t grant her the opportunity now. I locked the door behind us and delivered her right to my bed.

  Sarah trembled in the center of the classic poster bed—king sized for me but absurdly large for my captured fairy. She sunk onto the black sheets, her hair the only bit of pale brightness I’d permit in my bedroom. She glowed within the dark walls and draperies. My decor didn’t suit the little farm girl clutching the blankets. Then again, nothing inside the Bennett estate did. Sarah adapted to everything we forced upon her—her room, her schedule, her body.

  I approached, cupping her face and studying the damned bruises that stained her perfect skin.

  Who could mar such beauty?

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “Can you forgive me?”

  Sarah straddled the edge even when no one challenged her. She wept with desperation, but her voice hardened with every foolish resistance she reserved for me.

  “Depends,” she said. “What are you apologizing for?”

  Dangerous question.

  “For my father. For letting him take you. For him almost hurting you.”

  I leaned in. She permitted my closeness, but the kiss broke over her rasped sigh. I cursed myself for forcing it, but she pushed forward, taking a deeper, gentler press of my lips.

  She’d draw the very blood out of me with that kiss.

  “Give me more than that apology, Nick,” she whispered. “Tell me there’s a soul in there somewhere.”

  My soul died, broken, bruised, and hurt than the girl trembling before me. She wasn’t ready to hear my true confession, and I wasn’t ready to reveal it.

  “I’m sorry that I need you to be mine.” I touched her cheek. She leaned into my hand. “Nothing else makes sense. You are more than my captive, Sarah, but every beat of my heart is a living agony when you are not trapped under me.”

  She looked away. I hated losing that kindness.

  “I want to trust you,” she whispered.

  “Then trust me. I know I am a monster, but I’m your monster. I swear I will do everything I can to protect you.”

  “Tell me why I’m really here.” Sarah didn’t realize she gently rocked herself. “You stole me. Imprisoned me. Kept me here. Planned to breed me, but it isn’t just to steal the company. I know it isn’t. Tell me. What are you hiding from me?”

  I wasn’t the only one with secrets. Mine would ruin lives. Hers?

  “You have to share yours first,” I said.

  “Who says I have a secret?”

  I searched her expression. “Today was the first time you showed any real fear.”

  “And today was the first time you dared to oppose your father.”

  It was the truth, and I didn’t know what would come of it.

  But she wanted secrets, and I couldn’t give them. It wasn’t just her at risk. My family, our future, the very livelihood of a multi-billion dollar business rested upon our decisions and depended on our crimes. If she knew, if she acted, my father would do worse than rape her.

  I knelt beside the bed, pulling her close. “I can’t tell you. It isn’t safe.”

  “Nothing is safe, Nick. Not here. Not trapped between restraints and floggers and passed around for three men to be used and fucked and…”

  “I’ll protect you. So will Max and Reed. I swear to you, Sarah. Trust us. Do this for us. Be here for us, and I’ll find a way to free you.”

  “Do it now.”

  The soft plea refueled the helpless rage simmering under my skin.

  “Nick, please, I’m asking you as a sister and a friend and someone…” Her voice trembled over the aching truth. “Someone who is falling in love with you. Please, let me go.”

  “Sarah…”

  “I can’t be here anymore. I thought I had
this under control. I thought I’d handle it.”

  “You can.”

  She dug her fingers into the bed. Why was it so damned dark in here? I couldn’t see her face, I didn’t know if she was crying. How was I supposed to console her?

  “Everything is wrong.” Her words choked. “I thought I was doing this for my father. I wanted to redeem him. I tried to honor him.”

  The crushing heartache in her voice tempered my rage. I pulled her close, letting her wrap her arms around me in whatever way she needed—friend, brother, lover. It didn’t matter anymore. I let her cry, and she let me see her weakness without fear.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “You shouldn’t have learned like this.”

  “I could survive this when it was to protect the Atwoods. But now?”

  “You can still survive this.”

  “But why?” Her voice hardened. “Why put myself through this torture?”

  “Is it torture?”

  “Your father tried to rape me.”

  It was selfish. I held her tighter.

  “I won’t ever hurt you,” I promised.

  “Every minute with you is pain.”

  “But you’re strong enough to take it, Sarah. I know you are.”

  She sank deeper into my arms. “You aren’t giving me a choice, Nicholas Bennett. Am I always going to be your prisoner?”

  “If that’s the way to keep you here, so be it.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  No. It wasn’t, but I was beyond fair. The rules of the world—the laws and morals, principles and ethics—didn’t apply to us. To me. My name, my money, and my power offered something more than what normal men possessed. Sarah Atwood could beg and plead, and I would never let her go.

  If only because I feared that she wouldn’t come back to me.

  And that made me more of a threat to her than even my father’s vengeance.

  Sarah’s whisper begged for the wrong things. She should have asked for affection, devotion, and seduction. Those I offered. But mercy?

  Mercy didn’t exist within my embrace, and forgiveness would never rest within her heart.

  “Nick, if you love me—”

  “I do.”

  She shuddered. “Then please.”

  She couldn’t support herself any longer. I laid beside her, cradling her against my chest. She clutched at me, the tears damp on her cheek. I stoked her hair, rubbed her back, accepted her warmth.