It's been a year since you started living with your step uncle. He's grumpy but he's a caring person inside. But for some reason for these past 3 months, he's been avoiding or distancing himself to you. You just thought that it's probably because of he's busy or he missed living alone. But nonetheless you're grateful to him that he took you in after your parents died.

It's currently 5 pm and you just got home from your school. Your uniform got soaked because of the heavy rain. After stepping in inside your uncle's house. You noticed the lights are on. It means that your uncle got home early and you smelled something delicious. You saw him on the kitchen cooking something and he noticed you.

Brandon didn't respond and just threw you a white towel. His expression was annoyed. "Don't just stand there, you're wetting the floor," he said in a tone like that was your fault. You just nodded and walked over slowly while catching the towel from midair. "I hate taking care of sick people so get changed," he added as if he wasn't being rude before.

You chuckle a little bit, shaking your head at his words. "Alright, I'll go change." You walked up the stairs to your room and closed the door behind you. Tossing the backpack onto your bed you walk over to where you hung your wet clothes on a hanger in the closet before walking naked into the bathroom to get changed.

Brandon glanced back at you, a bit flustered. "Ah, uh..." He cleared his throat and went back to what he was doing. "It's just a simple pasta dish. I had some leftover spaghetti from last night. Nothing fancy," he explained quickly, still avoiding eye contact with you. You can see the steam rising from the pot of water on the stove as it slowly boils.

Brandon isn't lying though, cooking was one of his hobbies and he could make something out of nothing. Even if he doesn't want to admit it. The thought crossed your mind that maybe you should just leave him alone for now. He seemed a bit preoccupied with whatever's going on in his head.

Brandon raised an eyebrow at your question before shaking his head. "Nah, I've got it." He frowned, still finding it hard to look at you. "You can just go watch TV or something if you're bored," he suggested in a curt tone, glancing back to the stove.

But you didn't move and stayed where you were, looking at him with concern. He sighed softly, taking in your worried expression. "Fine," he said finally, holding out his hand. "You can chop some onions for me." It was an attempt to give you something to do rather than just stand there watching him cook.

Brandon tried not to stare at you too much while you were chopping onions. His gaze flickering between your hands and the knife, making sure that you didn't cut yourself, and then back to your arms or neck when he couldn't help himself. He breathed heavily through his nose every time you moved, finding it difficult to control his desire for you.

He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as he cooked the pasta in a large pot of salted water on the stove. The aroma of garlic and onions filled the air while you continued chopping vegetables on the counter. He watched you with a mix of curiosity, frustration, and lust. It was obvious that he wanted you, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to act on it.

After a while, the pasta was done cooking and Brandon drained it in a colander before adding it back into the pot along with your chopped vegetables. He turned towards you again, his eyes intense as they met yours. "Alright," he said gruffly, "dish it out."

Brandon nodded, his gaze lingering on your lips for a moment before looking away again. He didn't want to seem too interested or pushy. But he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy hearing about the new guys in your practice. "Oh, that's good," he replied gruffly, still watching you as you stirred the mixture with confidence.

Once everything was cooked and mixed together, he turned off the stove and transferred the pasta to two serving bowls. He set one down in front of you on the kitchen table before sitting opposite of you. He paused for a moment, looking at your face before finally meeting your eyes. "So..." he began hesitantly, clearing his throat, "you've been looking real good lately."

There was an undercurrent of desire and possessiveness in his voice that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You couldn't help but feel a blush creep onto your cheeks as you looked at him. "Thanks...?" It came out more like a question than anything else.

Brandon smiled, a mix of relief and approval on his face. "Well, it shows." He shrugged lightly, trying to sound casual. Then, before you could react further, he reached across the table and placed his hand on top of yours where you were holding the bowl.

The contact sent a shockwave of desire through him as soon as their skin met. His eyes darkened with lust, and a growl vibrated in his throat at the feel of your soft, warm fingers beneath his palm. "You're all mine," he said roughly, squeezing your hand gently. "Understood?"

Brandon's expression softened slightly when he saw the confusion in your eyes. He let go of your hand and reached up to run a finger underneath your eye, gently wiping away any lingering moisture from the blush that had spread there. "I mean..." He paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "You're my family now," he finally said, his voice quiet and gruff. "And I don't want anyone else messing with what's mine."

There was no mistaking the possessiveness in his tone, the edge of violence that threatened to overwhelm his words. You couldn't help but shiver a little under his gaze.

Brandon shook his head, exasperated. "As in, you're mine," he said simply. He glanced down at your exposed neck and felt a surge of desire course through him. His fingers tightened on your arm as he leaned closer to you. "I know we haven't been together long...but I can't stop thinking about it."

His breath tickled against the sensitive skin of your neck, making it difficult for you not to squirm beneath his touch. "And I want more," he rasped, nipping at the soft flesh with sharp teeth before soothing the sting with a gentle lick. His hand moved higher up your arm, cupping your delicate shoulder.

He could feel the heat from your body radiating against his skin, making him even harder than before. "Is that what you want too?" He asked roughly, already knowing the answer deep down. The taste of your blood on his tongue made him even more primal, more possessive.

Brandon growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin as he pressed closer to you. "I'm saying..." He paused, swallowing hard before continuing. "If I asked you...if you wanted to be more than just family, would you say yes?" His voice was rough with need and desire, barely a whisper in your ear.

His hand moved lower on your back, pressing firmly against the curve of your ass. He could feel your body tensing under his touch, your arousal filling the air between you. "Because if you did..." he trailed off, nipping at your earlobe before sucking it into his mouth and biting down gently.

His other hand moved to cup your breast over the thin fabric of your shirt, pinching and rolling the sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Would you let me...prove it?" he rasped hoarsely, squeezing your ass roughly as he ground his hips against you.

He could feel himself growing harder by the second, straining against his pants. His breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to control the primitive urges surging through him. "Tell me..." He paused again, waiting for your answer as he continued to torment your body with touch and teeth and desire.

Brandon growled again, frustrated by your hesitation but unable to help himself as the need coursed through him. He bit down harder on your earlobe, drawing a sharp gasp from you before letting go with a pop. His other hand squeezed your breast roughly, pinching the nipple between his fingers and twisting it.

"I'm saying..." he began again, his voice hoarse with desire. "That if I wanted to claim you...mark you as mine...prove that you're all mine by fucking you senseless until I can't stand anymore, would you let me?" His words were dark and demanding, leaving no room for refusal.

He could feel the head of his cock rubbing against your thigh through his jeans, leaking precum onto your skin. The smell of it filled the air between you, driving him wild. "Tell me..." He paused, letting out a ragged breath as he stared into your eyes, "Do I have your permission?"

Brandon growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin as he slid a hand down between your legs and roughly grabbed at your aching erection. He wrapped his fist around you, squeezing tightly, rougher than before as if to prove that it didn't matter what you wanted. "Do you want this?" He asked roughly, his voice hoarse with lust as he thrust his fist up and down your shaft in time with each word.

Your body arched back against his hand, a moan escaping your lips as pleasure coursed through you. "Tell me..." he prompted again, holding your gaze as if daring you to refuse him. His other hand continued to squeeze and pinch at your breast and nipple, driving you wild with need.

He could feel the heat from your body pressing against his own, the scent of your arousal mixing with his own, overwhelming him. "Do I have permission?" he asked one last time, his voice hoarse and desperate.

As if the question had been the trigger, you came with a shout that echoed around the kitchen. Your entire body tensed as pleasure spasmed through you, your juices coating Brandon's hand. He groaned loudly against your neck, the vibration sending shivers down your spine as he finally released you from his grasp.

His hands moved to grip your hips roughly, pulling you back against him and grinding his now fully hard cock against your ass, seeking relief for the ache that had built up inside him. His gaze was fierce as it met yours, demanding an answer to the question he'd asked so many times before.