Claimed By My Brother's Best Friend

I felt lips pressing against mine as I moaned, a passionate kiss that pulled me into him. His hands started ripping my clothes off. Opening my eyes, I saw Damien leaning over me, his lips crushed against mine. His mouth moved down, slowly kissing my neck, and I tilted my head back to give him more access. He trailed kisses across my collarbone and to my breasts, gently sucking my nipples into his mouth. My moan grew louder. He bit down, tugging on them, and I pushed my breasts up towards his mouth, begging him to take more. It felt so amazing. I could stay here with him forever, letting him seduce me.

His hands slowly began pulling my panties down. My own hands were unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off as I stared at his perfect abs, covered with beautiful tattoos. The urge to take his nipples into my mouth was so strong. I wanted him. I wanted to taste his body. Laying here naked and entwined, every inch of me ached for him. His lips started kissing my navel, moving slowly down to my pubic bone, my back arching and pushing up to his mouth. His tongue trailed down to my pussy and then attacked my clit. I moaned as his tongue circled, teasing me faster and harder. My hands gripped his hair, pushing him down, trying to make him go deeper.

His tongue started moving faster as he pushed two fingers inside me, beginning to move slowly. He was sucking my clit and fingering me, and I could feel my orgasm taking over my body. His fingers picked up the pace, pumping in and out of me faster as his tongue worked on my clit. I screamed as I teetered on the edge of climax, throwing my head back. The most intense orgasm ripped through my body, my hand holding his head there as he continued his pleasure.

Suddenly, I began to hear the sound of my alarm in the distance. I didn’t care, though. I didn’t want him to stop. The sound grew louder. I jumped up, and my eyes fluttered open. Looking around, I was in my room, all alone. When I reached down to my pussy, I was soaked.

“Fuck,” I cursed. That was one hell of a dream.

This can’t be happening. I can’t be having this kind of dream about my brother’s best friend. He’s off-limits. Nothing like that will ever happen between us. Or will it? I’m going to be staying with him now—both my brother and Damien live together. This is going to be interesting.

I had spent four years of my life completing fashion school, and moving in with my brother in Crestfall City felt like a huge step, especially as a brand-new graduate with no clear next move. Over those years, I’d collected more clothes than I could count and a mountain of shoes. Design was my passion, and chasing it had cost me a lot, but it had given me even more. My elder brother, Ethan, kindly paid for a moving company to haul my belongings across the city. Rolling my luggage out of the pickup station, I expected to see him waiting. Instead, a man I’d never met stood there holding a sign with Aria Keller written boldly across it. When I walked up to him, his solid, bulldog-like stance made him hard to miss.

“Umm…hello?” I greeted, unsure how to approach this stranger. His eyes snapped to me, and he gave a curt nod.

“Miss Keller?” he asked. I nodded.

“My name is Leo. Your brother is unavailable today, so he sent me to pick you up,” he explained.

“That’s lovely. Did he mention where you’re taking me? Last I heard, we couldn’t move into his new apartment for another month,” I said, watching him expectantly.

Leo, dressed in a full suit, tucked the sign under his arm, grabbed my luggage, and started toward a sleek black car. Ethan and I had always been close, but life had separated us for years. We came from a troubled home: a narcissistic, abusive father and a weak, compliant mother who always put him before us. Ethan couldn’t stand it. At twenty, fresh out of high school, he enlisted in the army. I was eleven then, and the years that followed were pure hell. He spent three years in training and another six in special forces. For eight long years, I barely saw my brother.

I left home at seventeen in a desperate escape that left scars. I worked for a seamstress who taught me everything about sewing and clothing design. Growing up, my father demanded perfection in appearance to uphold his public image, and I found a sliver of freedom in fashion. My parents refused to support my dream—my father wanted a lawyer he could brag about—so I fought for a scholarship and, by some miracle, earned one to study in Oakstead for three years.

Fashion school became my escape, both from my parents and from the man I once lived with during those desperate early days. Freedom wasn’t easy. I struggled with money and everything else. Now, at twenty-eight, I still feel like I barely know Ethan. He’s no longer the troubled teen who left home; he’s a seasoned army veteran and a successful businessman, thanks in part to his best friend, Damien Thorne—the man who haunted my dreams with every kind of forbidden fantasy.

I met Damien years ago when he and Ethan first joined the military. He came from a powerful family, and it showed. I haven’t seen him in a year, but he visits my dreams nightly. Back then, he was the hottest man I’d ever laid eyes on—who knows what he looks like now. He’s practically a ghost in real life: no social media, no public trail. Ethan doesn’t have any either. Maybe they both think it’s juvenile.

“Yes, Miss Keller. I was instructed to take you to Mr. Thorne’s house for the time being,” Leo said, pulling me back to reality.

What? Damien’s house? Oh no. This is not good.

“And where exactly is that?” I asked as I settled into the back seat of the expensive car.

“Olympus Tower, on the east side of Crestfall City,” he replied.

As we drove closer, the skyline sharpened, revealing a striking tower of reflective blue glass cut into daring angles. Each new building we passed was more breathtaking than the last.

“They’ve got high-end shopping, art galleries, and beautiful parks over here,” Leo added casually.

“Does Mr. Thorne live in one of these high-rises?” I leaned forward between the front seats, pointing toward the glittering skyline.

He lifted a stubby finger toward a singular building. “That’s Olympus Tower. Impressive, isn’t it?”

The shape was surreal. Curtain-glass walls rose from a rectangular base, curving gracefully until the structure resembled a four-leaf clover. It seemed to pierce the clouds themselves.

“What kind of business does he run?” I asked, fishing for details about the ever-mysterious Damien Thorne. Leo’s dark eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, then back to the road.

“He owns a lot of different businesses,” he said vaguely, before changing the subject. “The building has a fifty-five-foot pool, no kidding. I read it in a magazine.”

“Are you Mr. Thorne’s driver?” I tried again.

“I’m more like a personal assistant,” he said with a shrug.

“How about my brother?” I pressed.

“I work for him too,” he replied simply.

At a traffic light, Leo fished a pamphlet from the console and handed it back to me. “Here, take a look.”

Since we were stuck in traffic, I skimmed through it. The first bold headline read Penthouse in the Sky. The article described the Tower’s luxury in dizzying detail.

“That sounds like a lot,” I murmured absently.

“You will find that Mr. Thorne is… a lot,” Leo said cryptically. Before I could ask what he meant, he gestured toward a private entrance reserved for penthouse residents.