by K. I. Lynn
It’s the picture I bought her for her sixteenth birthday. The one I picked out after wandering around the mall like a lovesick fool, missing her so damn bad that I could barely breathe from it.
She sliced it up. Ruined it. And it wasn’t something done in a single moment of destructive rage.
This was deliberate. The slice patterns are too cohesive not to be premeditated.
I don’t know how long she’s been cutting that picture up for, but she’s done it many, many times.
Kira hasn’t budged, nor has she tried to see what it is that I’m staring down at.
I have a feeling she knows very well what it is.
We’re quiet for a few minutes. I can sense her staring at me while I continue to look at her handiwork.
“What?” Her tone is low but hard as stone, and there’s a hint of mockery in it. “Don’t tell me that upsets you.”
“It does,” I admit, looking up into her eyes. “But not because you did it.”
“Why, then?” She’s trying to keep her expression neutral.
“I did this, okay?” I motion at the floor. “You think I don’t know what this is?”
Kira sits up a little straighter, almost like she’s trying to get away from me.
I finally move, my hand snapping around her ankle to keep her in place.
She huffs, but doesn’t try to break my hold. “In your opinion, what is this?”
“That’s what I did to you.”
The comment lays heavy in the air between us. I don’t have to explain what it means. It’s so damn obvious that that picture might as well be a visual metaphor.
She cut that thing up just like I’d cut her up over the years. Systematically. One beautiful piece at a time.
I don’t know what she sees in my expression, but sympathy flashes in her eyes. “Brayden . . .”
I attack.
There’s no real thought behind the movement. Just this overwhelming ache in my balls, heart, my mind and my soul. This all-consuming need to imprint how much I love her into every part of her mind. I need to get this girl to a point where she feels how much I adore her so she’ll never doubt it again.
Covering Kira’s body with mine, I jerk her face in my direction and kiss her. I kiss her like the maddened, agonized animal I am.
At first, she tries to resist me, refusing to open up her mouth.
I’m not the only one that’s been brutally reminded of all the pain I caused her.
I don’t ease up, determination a heavy presence beating through my body. Softly, I suck on her lips, tease them with my tongue, all the while keeping her pinned on the bed by my much larger body. My hips start to rock in circles into her, a primal, instinctual movement that I have no control over.
Kira whimpers into my mouth, her lips falling open.
Groaning, I slide my tongue in, my eyes rolling back in my fucking head at the feel of her tongue. She lets me kiss her, but there’s a restraint in her. She’s holding back, refusing to give me everything she can.
Refusing to truly let me in.
I climb fully up on the bed and have to practically manhandle her legs open to make room for my hips. She doesn’t fight me as viciously as I know she can, but she isn’t making this easy for me either.
Fine. I’ll fight for this just like I’m willing to fight for everything else.
Four swifts moves, and I have her bathing suit on the floor.
I jack off the bed long enough to get my trunks off, then climb back on the bed.
She’s glaring at me, ready to strike, spit venom at me, and run away, but the moment I’m over her, there’s a flicker in her eyes, giving me an opening. I cup the back of her head, fisting her hair as my other hand wraps around her waist, gluing her body to mine.
There’s nowhere for her to go. No escape.
Nothing to do but take all that I have to give.
“Keep fighting me, because I’m not going to stop fighting for you.” Her eyes narrow, full of hate, but that other emotion is also there. The one I saw outside.
It’s the same emotion I’ve been seeing more and more of lately.
There’s too much going on inside me. Feeling like I’m about to explode, I lean down and bite into the side of her tit roughly, desperate for an outlet.
I need relief. From this onslaught, from the choking frustration of not owning the woman I love the way I want to.
Only one thing can help ease it for now.
Pinning her thighs open, I find her pussy with my cock. She’s so fucking wet I don’t even need to prep her. One thrust of my hips and her glare is gone, eyes fighting to stay open as she lets out a moan.
It’s fucking heaven inside her, and from the utter bliss on her face, I’d say it’s the same for her.
I pull out until just the tip is at her entrance, and watch as the lust starts to fade and the anger creeps back in. Then I ram inside her, all the way, making her squeeze around me.
“Fuck,” she whimpers.
Again.
Again.
Long. Hard. Deep.
Make her look at me as she feels everything.
I love this fucking girl so much that it obliterates my control over my body. Always. A few thrusts, and I’m fighting to keep my come in my balls. It needs to be inside her, where it belongs.
If I could give her my blood, I would. I’d give her my damn soul if she asked for it.
“This is everything,” I growl, biting her tit again.
She cries out, arching, her pussy squeezing tight.
“What is?”
“This. The connection.” Her pussy sucks me in, milking me with velvet, soft wetness that drives me wild. “What we feel when we’re together. What we can be to each other.”
She shakes her head, trying to deny it. “No. Not anymore.”
My forehead falls against hers. “You feel it, I know you do.”
Her legs wrap around me, heels digging into my ass and spurring me on. My body begins to shake as I hold back the come that’s ready to fill her. Grinding my teeth, I slow down even more, but keep the thrusts hard and deep, desperate to shove the truth into her. “You. You. You. It’s all about fucking you, Kira.”
Her hips rise up to meet mine, each time a little whimper escapes her lips. “This is about fucking.”
I slam my hips into hers, pinning her against the bed. She’s writhing beneath me, the sounds coming from her begging me not to stop. I look into her eyes, but she turns her head. The grip I have on her hair tightens as I move her to meet my gaze.
“I fucked it up, but I’ll fix it. I promise you, I’ll fix everything. I love you, Kira. You’re the only one I ever want.”
She turns her head again, pressing her face into my shoulder. When I try to yank her back, she bites down, refusing to move. I hear her soft sob shortly after.
Then I feel her tears wetting my shoulder.
My chest on fire, I drop my head on her shoulder, hugging her as tight as I can while I continue to rock into her. Deep strokes, staying as close to her as I can. So strong, like I’m trying to fuck my essence into her.
I would if I could, just so I could make her see that the only thing I want is her. That the thing I care the most about in the entire past, present, and future of my being is her. That I can’t exist without her.
She is my reason for living.
She is my heart, my soul.
My chest is so damn tight from everything, I can hardly stand myself with how much I need her.
“Please tell me you love me,” I whisper into her ear. “One day. That’s all I need.”
Kira sobs harder. Her arms and legs lock around me, and we’re nothing but a mass of human need and emotion rocking together. She won’t answer me, and her cries are breaking me apart.
But she won’t let me go. She’s holding me just as I’m holding her—like she’ll fall apart if I let her go.
“I’ll wait forever, Kira. Just keep giving me this. Don’t stop. We can’t live witho
ut this, without each other. Don’t take this from me. At least let me feel this.”
She’s shaking in my arms, but I’m to the point I don’t know what from—the physical or the emotional.
“Don’t stop,” she says against my skin, her words almost breaking.
I’m not sure what she means, but I pull out just a little bit farther to rotate my hips more.
“I won’t ever stop. I’ll always love you, want you, fuck you until you can’t stand coming anymore.”
Her body tenses and she begins whispering my name over and over, making my balls draw up tight.
“Fuck, Kira. The way you react when I tell you . . . you can lie to me. It’s okay. Your body tells me every truth I need to know.”
A soft growl echoes in her throat and she bites down into my shoulder, as if trying to break through the skin. “Just shut up and fuck me, damn you.”
Chuckling, I thrust just a little bit faster, giving her a taste. “This isn’t fucking, baby. No matter how dirty or raw it gets. I’m making love to you. Because you’re my girl.”
Her pussy trembles, tightening more.
Another sob.
A frustrated moan.
Her nipples are so hard they rub against my chest with each thrust. Goose bumps break out all over her arms.
Yeah, she’s my girl. She’s not ready to admit it yet, but her body and soul know what her mind won’t admit.
Sobs make her shake in my arms, but there aren’t tears with these ones. It’s raw, dry emotion, like there’s no more tears for her to give but her body isn’t done purging itself. She’s on edge, so close to falling. To coming. To accepting all that I know and feel to be truth.
“Let go, baby,” I whisper. It’s taking everything in me to hold back from coming right now. “I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”
Her back arches violently, body locking up. Her head punches back into the pillow, exposing that gorgeous neck. Plump lips part on a silent scream.
Holy fuck, I can’t get used to this. Can’t believe how beautiful she is.
“That’s it, baby. Right there. Come all over my cock. Suck it dry.”
“Brayden,” she whispers brokenly, tensing, tensing . . .
Her walls collapse around me almost painfully, pulling me in. The pressure is so intense that I feel the first burst of come being forced from me. An almost involuntary orgasmic pulse. Agonizing and mind-wiping ecstasy that pumps up my shaft, pouring deep into her.
Left without words, without thought as my body jerks on top of her in an intense pleasure I’ve never known before.
Her nails claw down my back, and I feel them cutting through skin.
Her teeth bite deeper.
I bite into her shoulder without thinking, fucking her, pushing her into the bed with my weight, pumping all the come into her I can.
Her nails dig into my ass, forcing me to keep going, taking more from me than I can bear to give.
My back arches, one final explosions of sensation shooting from my cock and arcing up my spine.
Spent.
Emotionally.
Physically.
We’re nothing but a heap of bodies mashed together. Hard breaths in sync as we come down.
Her pussy still pulses around me in sporadic jumps.
She says nothing.
Neither do I.
This silence between us, where there is nothing but our mixed breaths and the beats of our hearts, surrounds me. It becomes all I know, feel.
I’d give anything to hear the words from her, but right now she doesn’t have to say them.
I live to tell her how much I love her, but that isn’t necessary in this moment either.
Peace.
Finally, for the first time in fucking forever, I feel a sense of peace between us.
That connection thrums through her body and into mine, binding us.
Kira shifts under me, snuggling closer, arms tightening around me.
I refuse to move, even though I know I must be suffocating her.
We just lay here, intertwined, our breaths slowing.
I don’t know how much time passes. It could be minutes, hours, or just a few simple seconds, but it’s heaven. A tiny sigh as she nuzzles into me almost breaks me with relief.
The small touch of her affection is a soothing balm. I didn’t even understand how badly I missed it.
Exhaling softly, I let myself melt further into her, basking in the complete certainty of this moment.
I can fix this.
I will.
Nothing on earth is going to stop me from making it up to my girl.
It’s going to take some more time, but finally, I see the light at the end of the tunnel.
I can heal her—heal us.
Fuck all the stepsister-stepbrother bullshit. We’re going to be together, and I’ll finally be able to give this girl everything I have.
August 7, 2015
“Kira, do you want popcorn?” Marilyn asks, drawing my attention from my phone.
I blink at her and nod before stuffing my phone back into my wristlet. There was a new message from Brayden after he texted me when he got home. I told him I’m with my friends, that we’re seeing a movie, and he sent me a mad emoji.
A mad emoji. What the hell?
The damn thing grates on me as we get our food and drinks, ready to see Trainwreck. I’ve waited all week to see it, and I’ll be damned if he ruins the good mood.
With all the things to get ready for this month, this is the first time we’ve been able to hang out in a week, besides trips to the gym. I’ve been looking forward to this movie and the downtime and the not thinking about Brayden time. The latter is a near impossibility.
He’s all I think about.
We grab our snacks and drinks and head to the theater, Jenna hogging the big-ass bucket of popcorn. Once up the ramp, I stop and turn.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I say, holding my soda out for Ash to take. “Be right back.”
“Okay, we’ll save you a spot.” Jenna stuffs a handful of popcorn in her mouth as they head for theater nine.
The time away gives me a few minutes to shake him from my mind. While by myself, I take a few deep breaths and focus on anything but him. It’s a good hair day, and I’m looking cute, and I’m going to have fun.
As I step out, I look both ways so I don’t run into anyone, but my steps falter. My head snaps back toward the lobby, to the force making his way toward me.
Brayden.
He’s vibrating with an almost violent energy. People make way for him, and I can’t tear my gaze away.
He’s still wearing the dark blue polo for his job, all the buttons undone and open. To make him even sexier, he’s wearing his glasses, which have always been a soft spot for me. However, they do nothing to hide the deep furrow of his brow or the intensity of his near glowing green eyes. Even his jaw is locked in a tense bite.
I’m nothing but a deer in headlights. A gushing wet deer, because the sheer want he’s directing at me hits straight at my clit. Heat rages through me in an avoidable ripple, setting off every nerve.
He’s a determined man on a mission, and no one will stop him.
I’m that mission.
The intensity is so strong it forces me to step back, flight or fight kicking in. My chest burns as I blow out an unsteady breath. He’s feet from me, forcing me to withdraw more until my back is against the wall, but unable to run because my body is begging to let him do what he’s looking for.
“B-Brayden, what—”
His expression stops me. One of his strong arms swoops around my waist. He doesn’t miss a step as he pulls me with him, down the hall.
We turn a corner and he pushes me against the wall, lips smashing against mine. His tongue laps my mouth open as his body presses into me. Desperate need and pent-up desire drive him.
Devouring me with his mouth, and I don’t want him to stop.
Leaving me a panting, breathless mess when
he pulls away. The edge is softer in his eyes, but the maddening desire is tenfold. It’s been days, and I missed this. Need this, despite the protests I tell myself.
I’m a dumbstruck doll, letting him do things to me where people can see. People we know—friends, enemies—are all in the theater tonight. I’ve seen them.
But I don’t stop him from forcing my legs open or his hands as they grab onto my thighs, pulling my skirt up. His fingers sink into my ass cheeks, pulling them apart and pushing them together as he picks me up.
I don’t fight it.
Not even as his hard cock rocks against my pussy, digging in, grinding me into the wall.
His hips keep thrusting as he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine. Every one of his muscles is taut, desperate for a release. Everything about him is rough, dangerous, and has me so freaking lust high I’ll let him fuck me right here if he asks.
“I fucking need you, Kira. Now.”
The temptation to pull out his cock is only stifled by the giggle of a group of preteens as they walk by. It’s the proverbial cold splash of water I need.
The reminder that it’s not safe here, that anyone can see us right now. That if we’re caught, everyone will know. Fuck the fact that he’s my stepbrother, which is a bad enough bunch of gossip and ridicule, but I don’t want to have to explain to my mom that I was thrown in jail for having sex in public.
“Not here,” I manage to say. “Too many people.”
He pulls back, but doesn’t let go. “Come with me.”
When he starts to walk, I pull back against him. “Brayden, my friends are waiting for me. I can’t go back to your apartment right now.”
He shakes his head and grabs my wrist as he drags me down the hall. “I can’t wait that long.”
“So where—”
He cuts me off. “I know the manager. Told him I needed to borrow the break room.”
We step through a door with an Employees Only sign and into a nondescript cinder block hall.
As soon as the door closes, I wrench my arm from his grip. “And does he know what for?”
His jaw ticks, and he adjusts his glasses. “Yes.” The word is gruff.
“Brayden.”
“He doesn’t know who, Kira. Just told him I needed time with a girl.”
