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My Brother's Worst Enemy Craves Me Novel Cover

My Brother's Worst Enemy Craves Me

After a decade of avoiding her brother’s rival, Skye Moore mistakenly accepts a secretarial position at Thorne’s corporate empire. Thorne is a cold, powerful billionaire who was once a family friend but is now strictly off-limits. Despite the deep-seated animosity between their families, Thorne finds his self-control slipping the moment Skye enters his orbit. While Skye struggles to understand his intense gaze and the danger he represents, Thorne decides to stop fighting his forbidden obsession.
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Chapter 3

Skye's POV

"I... here?" I whispered.

He tilted his head slightly. "Where else?"

I stared at him and he stared back. He wasn't going to explain. He wasn't going to spell it out. He was going to stand there and watch me figure it out on my own.

My fingers moved to my blouse before my brain gave them permission.

The first button came undone. My hands were shaking so badly I almost couldn't grip the second one.

He didn't move or speak. He just watched me with those dark blue eyes like he had all the time in the world.

Second button. Third. Fourth.

The fabric parted and my white lace bra came into view. My chest was heaving‚ pushing against the thin lace with every breath‚ and the cool air of the elevator hit my exposed skin like ice water.

Fifth button. The blouse hung completely open now‚ framing my body like curtains pulled apart.

I reached for the clasp of my bra.

"Stop."

I froze.

"Is that what I asked you for?" he said quietly.

"I... I thought you wanted me to—"

"I said show me what you're willing to give. I didn't tell you to undress."

The embarrassment hit me like a truck. He didn't even ask me to strip. I had just started taking off my clothes in his elevator like some kind of — oh God.

My hands flew to my blouse‚ grabbing both sides‚ trying to button it back up‚ trying to undo the last two minutes of my life.

His hand caught my wrist before I could fasten a single button.

"Did I tell you to button up?"

"But you just said—"

"I said stop. I didn't say cover up."

He pinned both my wrists above my head with one hand‚ pressing them firmly against the elevator wall. My back was flat against cold steel‚ my blouse hanging open‚ my chest heaving in thin white lace just inches from his body.

Then he leaned in close‚ so close that his lips nearly brushed the shell of my ear.

"This is a company‚ Miss. Not a strip club." His breath was warm against my skin. "What kind of secretary walks into her CEO's private elevator and starts undressing without being asked?"

The words landed like a slap across my face. I shoved against his chest as hard as I could.

He didn't budge. Not even an inch.

"Let go of me. I'm buttoning up and I'm leaving. This was a mistake—"

"You can't close up after showing me all this."

His free hand traced along the edge of my bra‚ featherlight and barely there‚ following the curve of lace across the top of my breast. My breath hitched despite everything I was telling myself to feel.

"You opened yourself up for me‚" he murmured. "On your own. Nobody forced your hand. You wanted me to see you."

"That's not what happened. You told me to show you what I was willing to give and I misunderstood. Now let me go."

I didn't want him to let me go.

His fingers hooked under the center of my bra and shoved it upward in one rough motion. The lace scraped over my nipples as it went and then my breasts fell free‚ bare and exposed‚ my nipples already stiff and aching from the friction.

I gasped and tried to pull my hands down‚ but his grip held me firmly in place and his mouth closed over my left nipple.

"Oh my God—"

Every thought in my head went white.

His lips were hot and firm and he sucked hard enough to make my back arch completely off the wall. A moan ripped out of me before I could catch it‚ loud and shameless in the small space. His tongue circled the peak‚ flicked against it‚ then he sucked again‚ deeper this time‚ pulling the sensitive flesh into the wet heat of his mouth.

"Oh God — Thorne—"

He stopped. His mouth lifted from my breast and the cold air hit my wet‚ swollen nipple like a shock.

"It's Mr. Anderson to you‚ Miss. Not Thorne."

I felt so embarrassed‚ but it was true. Why was I calling him by his first name when he didn't know who I was? I was nothing but a stranger to him.

To him‚ I was just Ms. Latecomer. A complete stranger who had gotten a job as his secretary and was now willing to do anything to keep her job.

"I'm sorry‚" I whispered. "Mr. Anderson."

His mouth found my other nipple before I even finished the sentence. He sucked hard‚ his teeth grazing the peak‚ his tongue swirling around it in slow‚ deliberate circles. My knees buckled beneath me and his body pressed harder against mine‚ holding me upright while his mouth moved between my breasts‚ licking and sucking and biting until I couldn't tell where one sensation ended and the next began.

"Oh my God—" I gasped‚ even as my back arched deeper into his mouth. "Please — stop—"

He released my nipple with a soft‚ wet sound that echoed through the elevator. "Then why are you pressing yourself into my mouth if you want me to stop?"

I had no answer for that. Because he was right.

His free hand slid down my stomach‚ past my navel‚ all the way down to the hem of my pencil skirt. His fingers gripped the fabric and pushed it up‚ bunching it roughly around my hips until my thighs and the white lace panties between them were completely exposed.

"Spread your legs‚" he said.

"W—what?"

"Did I stutter?"

My thighs were pressed together and trembling.

"I can't. This is — we shouldn't be—"

*Open your legs‚ Skye. You know you want to. You've wanted to since the moment you stepped into this elevator. Stop pretending.*

"You can." His hand came to rest on my inner thigh‚ warm and impossibly heavy. "Open."

My breath shuddered out of me. Slowly‚ shaking‚ I shifted my feet apart.

His fingers slid up my inner thigh to the edge of my panties‚ and one finger traced along the lace‚ right along the crease where fabric met skin. My hips jerked toward his touch before I could stop them.

"So responsive‚" he murmured‚ almost to himself.

"Please—" I breathed‚ and my hips rolled toward his hand again.

His hand slipped inside my panties‚ and he pushed one finger inside me. I gasped so hard I choked on the air. My eyes flew wide open‚ locked directly on his face‚ my mouth hanging open in a silent scream. His finger was buried inside the most intimate part of me‚ a part that no one had ever touched except me‚ and the slickness that greeted him was undeniable‚ humiliating‚ and completely obvious.

Then he smirked.

"Soaking through your pretty little panties and I've barely even started." His finger pushed deeper. "Such a desperate‚ dripping wet little pussy‚ Skye."

Skye?

He... He knew who I was?

4

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