by J. L. Beck
“Exactly what I said.”
He reached for her leg and touched the back of her bent knee. A jolt rushed through her body.
“You’re going to come now, and you’re going to do it on me.”
She couldn’t catch a breath. Her chest seemed to seize. She’d snuck into his bed last night, hoping he’d make love to her. Except she’d expected something sweet and romantic. An experience that matched the tender way he looked at her and the deep, personal conversations they shared.
This, though…?
His hand moved up the back of her thigh. Her skin rippled with sensation. A dangerous look burned behind his eyes. A wickedness she hadn’t expected laced his touch. He oscillated her between thrill and apprehension in a way that had her not knowing whether she was supposed to be breathing in or out.
“How?” she whispered.
“How what?” He leaned closer, staring down at her as if maybe finally, freaking finally, he’d give her the kiss she’d been longing for.
“How would I come on you?”
“My preference?” He gave her another of those sinful smiles and slid his palms beneath her dress to hook his fingers in the waistband of her underwear. “On my face.”
Her breath caught. She pictured his head between her legs, and her insides clenched tight.
But he hadn’t even kissed her.
Not yet.
He tugged on her panties then slid them down her thighs, over her knees, and off her feet.
She shifted, dragging herself higher on the bed. Fleeing. Just a little.
He came after her on all fours until her back hit the headboard with a thump.
“Wait.” Her tongue snaked between her lips.
“Wait?” His eyes narrowed. He reached her, hand already snaking up her leg. “After all you’ve done, now you’re shy?”
She shook her head, needing him to understand, but the words clogged her throat.
She’d waited so long for him to notice her the way she’d noticed him. Then he’d come home. Been so attentive. They’d even spent yesterday painting swatches on the bedroom wall of his new house, for heaven’s sake.
He’d wiped paint from her cheek with his thumb, and his hand had lingered in place. He’d stared at her while she’d held her breath waiting for more. Waiting for anything. He’d suspended her feelings at a life-threatening height then left her hanging.
Then he’d retreated with the excuse of getting extra paint from another room. Only there was no more paint. Merely pain and longing, pressing down on her from every corner of the house.
The sting of rejection compelled her to climb into his bed last night. Naked. Because if she didn’t make a drastic move, Nathan never would.
But she’d never not been nervous.
Never not been shy about it.
She’d just done it anyway.
She cleared her throat. “I have a different suggestion.”
He paused, his scorching palm branding her thigh. “Is that right?”
Maybe he sensed the way she flooded harder at the thought of his face between her legs. But the accurate observation didn’t matter. When they fulfilled such an intimate act, he’d be kissing her and professing his feelings first.
It wouldn’t be like this. With half of him.
His body without his heart.
She attempted to keep her voice even. “I want to come on your hand.”
His eyes narrowed, an almost imperceptible move, and one thing became clear—her true, lovely Nathan wasn’t all here with her.
He hadn’t given in yet.
She listened to the thudding sound of her pulse. The thing was—she was all the freaking way in. The half of her who was shy and cautious. And the rest of her, too. The half who fingered herself madly every night to a photo of her stepbrother.
She just had to figure out exactly what held him back. Then break through it.
His brows relaxed, and he moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. “Don’t say I don’t give you what you want.”
Her stomach rose like a carnival ride. His fingertips brushed her folds. No, she’d never say such a thing.
He gave her everything.
“Aria…” His voice deepened. He trailed his fingertips through her slit. “How long have you been this wet?”
A flush of heat burned her neck. The truth? Did he really want to know? Or did he want a nice girl answer?
“Honestly, pretty consistently since you came home.”
His expression slacked for a moment. She watched him process her words. Wasn’t it what he expected to hear?
“That’s a wicked thing to tell your stepbrother.” He nestled closer and pushed a finger into her entrance. His thumb pressed her clit.
Putting your finger in your stepsister’s pussy was a wicked thing to do.
Tension gathered in her pelvis, creating a need to buck. Tension filled him, too. Another kind that bristled with resistance, and she wanted to smash it to pieces.
“Nathan, I did something bad.”
The ragged sound of his breathing paused. So did his touch. Excitement bubbled through her veins, almost catching up to the arousal.
Yes. Something told her she’d just moved him one foot closer to where she needed him to follow.
“What did you do?” He stared down at her, and his ministrations continued in lazy swirls.
Pleasure gathered in her sex. She pushed it down.
She’d take more than pleasure from him today. “Remember when you went out with the boys on Friday?”
He blinked. “Yes.”
His thumb rubbed. She twisted a little, shifting the pressure off center before she lost her mind. If she came, this would stop, and maybe there’d never be another chance to get this close to him again.
He hadn’t invited her to catch up with his school friends. Of course, he wouldn’t. There was no reason he shouldn’t catch up with his buddies alone.
But she’d burned that night all the same.
Burned to be with him.
Burned for him.
Burned not knowing what he’d do. A handsome, single man, out with the boys at a bar. She’d done something she shouldn’t have.
“You left me behind, and I was lonely for you.”
“What did you do?” His fingers retreated then sank home in quick succession.
A gasp flew from her lips. A blast of sensation streaked to her core. She squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to focus. “I went into your room.”
He flexed his finger high inside her. Stroked someplace that made her mind blur.
“And then?”
“That was the first time I went in your bed without my clothes on.”
He made a sound, a low, gruff, half growl, that kicked her arousal into overdrive. His finger pushed in her pussy with a squelching sound—she’d saturated him.
“What did you do there?”
Her tongue swiped her shivering lips. “I rolled around in your sheets and breathed your scent from your pillow.” Pleasure coiled tight. Focus. “I touched myself and writhed against your mattress until I came.”
“You rubbed your pussy on my mattress until you came?”
He withdrew from her. It was all she could do not to grab his wrist and force him back into action.
“Don’t tell me nasty stories like that,” he said.
She rolled to her side, bringing them eye-to-eye. If he didn’t kiss her, right now, she’d go mad. “It’s not a story. I came in your bed. Twice.”
He shivered, and the angry storm in his eyes dissipated. A gentle hand took her thigh and hooked her limb over his hip, drawing her aching sex against his pant-covered leg. “It’s okay. I know you’re just being sassy.”
He lowered his rough cheek to hers. His stubble sent electric prickles zinging over her flesh. She dragged her pussy on his thigh and pushed herself up hard against him. Her heavy boobs flattened against his chest. She clutched his waist.
Her real Nathan was here, hover
ing under the surface, waiting to be unleashed.
“You’re a good girl.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “You’re a sweet, good girl.” He grabbed her backside, slowing her movements. “You’re just telling sassy stories.”
Her chest tightened. She did tell sassy stories. Only with him. She’d end every one of their telephone calls with a joke, and sometimes they were naughty. She wanted his rich, rumbling laugh to be the last thing she heard before she hung up and went to sleep.
But this wasn’t a story.
And she wouldn’t be his good, untouchable Aria one more moment.
“No, I came in your bed twice and made a mess all over my fingers.” Her hips struggled in his grip. The pressure of his thigh was bliss, but she needed to grind into him. “Then I wiped them on your pillow.”
He went dead still, hand gripping her ass cheek.
Her heart clenched, making her head spin.
Oh, darn. Maybe she’d pushed too hard with that last embellishment.
But right now, she’d go as far as it took to reach him.
He yanked her hips, giving her heavenly friction. “That’s a very naughty thing to do.”
He brought his nose to hers. His breath had a hint of the scotch he liked, and she breathed him in, getting a little intoxicated.
“So tell me you’re tricking. Tell me you’re a good girl, and I’m going to let you come on me. Then we’ll be even, and we can move on.”
His thigh pressed just right, the coarse fabric of his pants now soaked. The tension gathered.
“Tell me you’re a good girl, and everything can be as it was.”
Her chest deflated. She almost caved. If there were a choice between not having him at all or going back to pretending, she’d pretend if she had to. Because not having him at all…her sternum felt as if it might burst open at just the thought of it.
But he’d said they couldn’t go back. He’d said they were broken. Now he said they could…
She knew why.
He’d do anything to go back to resisting her. Now he couldn’t, there was no way she’d let him again. “No.”
She didn’t want to be his good girl. She wanted to be his real girl.
“No?” He pulled back and stared at her. “No, you’re not a good girl?”
“No, I’ve been really bad.” Her lungs tightened. She didn’t know where the next words came from; they just flowed instinctively. “I’m a very, very bad girl, Nathan.”
He released her backside and grabbed her by the chin. His eyes went smoky, the lust there palpable. “Do you know what happens to bad girls?”
Triumph washed over her. She’d gotten this part right.
“Yeah,” she whispered. Her nipples went tighter with the thrill. “They get in trouble.”
“Is that what you want?” His gaze bored into her. They were so close now, nose-to-nose. He was all the way here. “To get in trouble?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I want to get in the biggest trouble you have.”
4
Fucking, fuck.
The biggest trouble he had? This girl had no clue. Her big, innocent blue eyes watched him dreamily, but for the first time, that dreamy look seemed like a veil, thinly masking her wicked intent.
Maybe they’d been like that all along, and he just hadn’t wanted to admit it.
She’d masturbated in his bed?
Wiped her juices on his pillow?
His cock was about to erupt. Oh, she deserved trouble, all right, and he knew just how to give it to her.
Then she’d see.
She’d know she’d pushed a man too far, and she’d go back to Greenpea, and stop pretending to be something she wasn’t.
He dragged himself upright against the headboard and hauled her over his lap.
Her high squeal rang out.
See, she was already getting it. She’d bitten off more than she could chew with her games.
He hiked up her dress until it bunched at her waist. The whole thing now scrunched at her middle. Her tits and ass both exposed.
She turned her face to the side, watching him. Watching what he’d do next.
He rubbed her bottom. What a fucking sexy little bottom it was, too.
She drew her fist to her chin. A vulnerable action that made his erection more persistent.
He nudged her thighs apart. Fucking hell. He’d known she was turned on. But seeing her pink pussy soaked on his lap almost made him blow, then and there.
Her juices shined on her lips and even coated the top of her ass.
He hadn’t planned on giving in—a spanking was really going to be the trouble she’d asked for—but that little cunt was too much temptation.
He rubbed her pussy from behind until she wiggled uncontrollably, then he shoved two fingers in her tight, wet entrance and held them there.
“This is for going in my room without permission.” He brought his other hand down on her ass cheek.
Slap.
The sound rang through the cabin. Her gasp made his balls clench. He rubbed her ass, before rocking his fingers in her pussy.
“This is for touching yourself in my bed.”
Slap.
He hit her backside again. The same spot, firmly but without true force. She jerked, and her pussy clutched. He stroked her brightening flesh better then hooked his fingers, going for her G-spot.
“This is for putting your cum on my pillow.”
Slap.
She moaned, rocking her hips. Holy fuck. His wholesome, good girl was getting off on having her ass punished.
Lust surged through him.
It took everything he had not to push her down and put his cock where his hand was.
“This is for sneaking in my bed while I was sleeping and rubbing up on me.”
Slap, slap, slap.
That one deserved three.
The sound she made was deep and guttural and so full of need he almost let her finish before he was done with her.
He stroked her G-spot, her arousal saturating his hand.
“This is for being a horny, little tease and making me come on your tits.”
Slap, slap, slap, slap.
She shoved her fist into her mouth and screamed. Her hips bucked. He thrust his fingers deeper. Her cunt contracted, squeezing him with her orgasm. Making him imagine what it’d be like if he ever let himself really take what he’d always dreamed of—his gorgeous, little stepsister with his cock.
He’d come inside her and make her part of his family, for real.
He’d make her the mother of his babies.
Her thighs twitched, then she sagged.
He took his hand from her sex and massaged her ass. She didn’t so much as flinch. The skin on her bottom had turned bright red, but there weren’t any welts. He’d only wanted her to feel herself being spanked and to know he was the one punishing her.
There’d never come a day where he’d really hurt his precious girl, no matter how she begged for it.
He rolled her over and cradled her in his arms.
Her eyes stared, hazy.
Oh, damn. They’d both find out now, wouldn’t they? If this was more than she could take.
If she’d run away like she should.
His heart thumped, deep and painful. “Ready to be a good girl again, honey?”
Her long lashes beat softly. “No way, not ever.”
His chest let go so suddenly, he thought for a moment maybe the plane took a nose dive. He stroked her cheek. There was no hope for him now.
Their lives were about to go atomic.
He did what he’d been trying not to do—held her face and brought his mouth to hers. Oh, fuck, he’d tried not to do this the most.
Her mouth was the sweet heaven he’d always known it would be.
And her gentle kiss made him want to die with her in his arms, just to stay there forever.
5
Aria walked into his penthouse. Sixteen stories high but it felt more like walking in t
he clouds.
“What do you think?”
She approached the seamless row of windows in front of the kitchen. The city stretched out in a wash of glittering lights. She’d never seen anything like it. She’d never been outside of Greenpea. “It’s exciting.”
They’d made out like teenagers for the remainder of the flight to Seattle.
As though another switch had been flipped.
He’d gone from sweet Nathan to filthy Nathan and back again.
The only thing bringing her down was knowing that the real him was somewhere in between.
But from the moment he’d kissed her, he’d seemed to hold back once more. Hadn’t said a word about his feelings or what would happen now.
All she knew was that she loved him so much, and the way he kissed her made her believe he loved her, too.
“To visit,” she added and turned to face him.
He’d gone so quiet.
“It’s exciting to visit here, but I prefer Sweetpea.”
His expression flashed with longing, but still, he didn’t say anything.
Sweetpea was the name she’d given his house. The sweetest house in Greenpea. It might be one of the town’s largest homes, but it had a yard full of roses and magnolias and a front porch with a giant swing made for daydreaming on.
“Nathan…” She tried to frame things so they made sense. The same things that held him back scared her, too.
Her father would go mental.
His mother would be horrified.
But they’d come around. Eventually. Their parents loved them both. Maybe this wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t as if they’d been raised together.
This wasn’t wrong. Their love was the only thing that felt right.
They’d have to see it. She’d make them all see it.
“There’s something I have to tell you.” She glanced around then went to sit on his sofa. Holy moly. She gripped her hands together.
She’d told Nathan all her secrets.
Almost all of them.
He came to crouch in front of her. “What is it?”
She wiped her palms back and forth on the skirt of her dress. This wasn’t the way she’d dreamed of doing this. Not so quickly.
But soon enough, her dad would read the note she’d left, and the questions would start.
