Hooked: A Stepbrother Romance

by Iris Parker

  “Don’t you have any in your glove compartment or something?” I asked, desperate and hopeful.

  “Why would I have condoms in my glove compartment?” he asked.

  “I thought you were supposed to always be prepared,” I said.

  “I’m a rugby player, not a bloody boy scout,” Simon teased, laughter in his voice as he leaned up to kiss me again. “I guess we’ll have to postpone this.”

  I could still feel his shaft rubbing against me with every breath he took, frustration bubbling up at the thought of not feeling him inside of me.

  No, that just wouldn’t do at all.

  I shook my head, bending forward to whisper in Simon’s ear.

  “We’re not postponing anything,” I said breathily. “Open the trunk.”

  Simon’s eyes went wide with surprise, but he nodded in agreement. A couple minutes later, we’d found a low tree limb to hang our clothes on and spread the blanket out across a flat patch of grass, ensconcing ourselves beneath a couple of large beach towels. In front of us, the vast expanse of city spread its lights for us to see.

  Simon was lying on his back, and I positioned myself above him. Bending my head down, I kissed all along his jaw and up to his lips, grinding his cock beneath my stomach as I gyrated my body on top of his.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were on the pill?” he asked, and I could feel him twitching beneath me as I moved.

  “I’m not,” I said, amused by the wide-eyed look of panic crossing his face.

  “I don’t think this is such a good id—”

  “I’m not stupid either, Simon,” I said after silencing him with another kiss. “Give me a little credit.”

  “Then what did you have in mind, exactly?” he asked.

  I winked, turning myself around and diving beneath the warm towels that had already wicked away the last traces of water from my skin. It was dark, but I didn’t have any trouble finding what I was looking for.

  His cock had slipped out from beneath my body when I moved, and it stood hard and arrogant next to my neck as I rubbed myself against it. Teasing it for a moment with my damp hair, I ran my tongue from the base of the shaft up to the head.

  Simon grunted, his manhood twitching in response to my attention. I could feel and taste a salty liquid dribbling from the tip as I slowly took it into my mouth, fingers caressing his heavy balls while I lavished attention and pleasure onto him.

  Another twitch, another bead of precum spilling out and overwhelming me with the tangy, masculine taste. I moaned, taking him in just a little further and swallowing around his thickness.

  When I began this, my only intention had been to feel Simon inside of me again any way possible. I hadn’t really thought about the position I’d be putting myself in, or what he might do back on the other end of the blanket. I’d assumed he would just enjoy the performance, but Simon wasn’t one for passive participation.

  At first his hands kneaded my ass cheeks, massaging and fondling them lustily. A hint of a breeze tickled between my legs, the sensation making me gasp even while Simon still filled my mouth.

  I wasn’t at all prepared for what followed, Simon suddenly pressing down on my behind and driving my crotch straight into his face. I fell with a heavy thump, the hair on his chin tickling at my clit and overwhelming me for a moment. Taking his manhood from my mouth, I turned my head back around.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I whispered.

  Simon didn’t respond, still smothered beneath me, his tongue beginning to probe my sensitive folds.

  “I said, you really don’t need to do that,” I repeated, louder.

  “No way I’m letting you just take over like that without at least a little competition,” he said, stopping just long enough to lift me back into position and answer. Before I could respond, he’d pulled me back against his face again, exploring my most private areas in detail.

  Ah, why had I thought Simon and I would stop competing just because we started fucking? That wasn’t his way, and it wasn’t mine either.

  It’s on, I thought with a devious smile, giving his cock a few hard strokes with my hand before I started to tease it again with my tongue.

  Completely covered by the towels, the cold was quickly forgotten and my whole world filled with the masculine scent of Simon. I was surrounded by it, reveling in the spicy musk with every breath I took. It turned me on even more, my clit swelling further just in time for Simon to notice and begin caressing it. I gasped, pressing my palms down hard into the blanket below.

  Simon’s mouth felt amazing on my sex, and I knew from experience that he could make me come in mere minutes. There was no way I could “win” this without drastic measures. I’d never taken the full length of a man as large as Simon before, but there was a first time for everything.

  Positioning myself over his shaft, I rubbed the head of his cock against my lips for a few seconds, massaging him until I heard a groan of satisfaction. It was the deep, throaty growl of a man who was losing his resolve, telling me that I was on the right track.

  Slowly, I took more of him into my mouth and sucked on the glistening, pink tip. Curling the sides of my tongue around his thick manhood, I licked the underside of his shaft as I worked my way down further and further. Simon gasped between my legs, his quivering lips brushing against my sensitive flesh before he tossed his head back lustily.

  “Jesus, Emilia,” he said with a long exhale, his hand reaching down to tenderly caress my hair as he relaxed, laying himself flat against the blanket. I allowed myself a small smile of victory as I felt all purpose leave Simon, allowing me to lavish attention on his magnificent cock without fear of distraction or interruption.

  Immediately, I pressed myself down further, feeling the taut muscles of his chest and abs beneath my body as I took even more of him inside, inch by inch. When he arrived at the entrance to my throat, I paused for a moment and collected myself.

  My heart was beating rapidly in my chest as I wondered if I could handle it, to continue down and swallow his entire length. Simon’s hand was still on my head, providing just enough pressure to be encouraging but not enough to force me to move. I could feel his heart beating just below my stomach, yearning for more.

  Trembling, I withdrew just enough to allow myself a deep breath, and then plunged forward. Simon’s hips pushed up as I went down, sliding the fullness of his cock into my throat and cutting off my air. He let out a long, loud moan as he entered, his hand curling in my hair.

  Feeling him so deep inside of me was a new experience, filling a part of my body that no man had ever touched before. I purred lustily, recognizing that our mutual desire had driven me to do something I’d never imagined myself capable of.

  I had expected it to be difficult, but Simon worked with me to make it easier. My enjoyment of swimming had made me good at holding my breath, and periodically Simon would withdraw to help me breathe without difficulty. The urge to cough or expel his intrusion did not come, and in a way it felt almost peaceful as I bobbed my head up and down the thick shaft. I could feel his manhood twitching with every move I made, his heartbeat thudding even harder when I stimulated him with my tongue.

  “Fuck,” Simon muttered behind me after an intense couple of minutes, his fingers pressing against my scalp as he began to lose control. Feeling that he was about to pass the point of no return, I surged forward and took him even deeper. Burying my nose in his curly hair, I pressed my mouth down hard and played with extra couple inches of length that was ordinarily hidden beneath the skin.

  “Jesus” he moaned loudly, and I felt his balls contracting just below my face as his muscles worked to pump load after load of seed into my throat, the thick veins of his cock swelling with each twitch and spurt. I instinctively tried to swallow as the liquid spilled into my throat, eliciting more moans of pleasure from Simon.

  When he was finally spent I raised my head, panting heavily to catch my breath while he stroked my back and cooed happily. The break did
n’t last very long, and soon he bent upwards, licking between my legs to reciprocate the pleasure I’d just given him.

  Feeling the stubble of his cheeks tickling my thigh, the warmth of his body in our now-cozy blanket, I groaned happily and instinctively widened my stance, pressing my hips down closer to his face.

  Simon lapped hungrily at my slick core, teasing my sensitive clit and making me writhe above him. I could still taste him on my breath, giddy from our shared attraction to one another.

  My body was buzzing with excitement, and it didn’t take long before Simon’s skilled mouth had me moaning and desperate. He stopped licking just long enough to slide a finger inside of me, curling it and massaging my inner walls as I gasped and begged for more. He felt wonderful inside of me, and I could feel the pressure building rapidly when he resumed caressing the sensitive bundle of nerves with his tongue and lips.

  With an uncanny sense of what I was feeling, Simon managed to stop when I was precisely on the very edge of orgasm. My fingers dug into his legs as I let out a throaty grunt, shuddering as my I craved release. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably less than a second, Simon once again covered my most sensitive area with his mouth. With one final flick of his tongue, I crashed through the threshold into pure, ecstatic bliss.

  I could hear banging echoing up from the city below, but I knew that the fireworks we’d soon be watching would pale in comparison to the explosions I was experiencing now with Simon. I babbled lusty nonsense as wave after wave of pleasure crashed into me, my toes curling as blissful tremors overtook me.

  When the pleasure finally began to ebb, I slowly curled myself up and turned back around, displacing the towels in the process and exposing myself to the cold night air. With a shiver, I buried myself back in the towels and beside Simon’s hot body. He wrapped his arm around me, his warmth radiating across my back while his fingers lazily caressed my ass. We stared at each other in happy silence for a moment before leaning in to kiss each other, the intimacy of the act only heightened by what we had just experienced together.

  “That was absolutely wonderful,” I whispered once our tongues had disentangled from one another.

  “Hell yeah,” Simon agreed, his piercing blue eyes staring into me and making me feel weightless. “I didn’t think it was possible to feel like that, you know."

  “Thanks,” I said, blushing and happy that I’d won our little competition, after all. All those hours spent studying anatomy had finally paid off, it seemed.

  “You just gave me the best blow-job of my life,” he teased with a tender smile.

  My heart sank a little as I thought about the vulnerable position I'd put myself in. He'd been spreading all those rumors about me being a great cocksucker, and now I'd proven him right.

  “Simon…” I began, scanning his features to confirm that there was no trace of mockery or malice. He’d meant it as a compliment, but it still stung.

  Simon’s eyes went wide as he sensed my discomfort, the empathy on his face plain.

  “Em, I—” he began.

  “It’s okay. It’s just, that’s not exactly one of my favorite memories, you know,” I said, suddenly feeling a little chilly again and squirming closer to him.

  “No, it’s not okay,” he said heavily. “I was absolutely awful to you, and I’ve felt terrible about it for years. I still feel terrible. I was a dumb bastard, and I ruined your life. I have nothing to say for myself, nothing can possibly excuse that. I was hurt and lost, but most of all, I was an asshole. I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

  I held my breath as he spoke, still wrapped in his warm arms even as his words sent chills down my spine.

  “I know your dad wasn’t perfect,” I said finally.

  “Far, far from it. But that was never a reason to hurt you, Emilia.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. He let his arm relax around me, now his turn to hold his breath. Part of me wanted to sit up and jump from the cocoon he’d created for us, but I knew that urge was coming from a place of pain that got weaker with each passing day. The hurt that I’d been carrying for so many years seemed to be evaporating over the summer, dwindling down until it seemed not only manageable, but insignificant.

  Simon had been making amends since he’d first set foot in the rec center a month ago, culminating in his apology tonight. Having our ugly past be discussed so openly filled me with a strange kind of serenity, the realization that the old wound was actually starting to heal for good.

  “I forgive you,” I whispered quietly.

  Simon leaned his head forward, resting on my shoulder as he pulled me in closer. I could feel myself relaxing, the warmth of his apology making me feel safe and protected even as his body heat once again chased away the cold. He pressed his soft lips into the skin of my neck, and I felt my whole body relaxing with a happy shudder.

  I smiled happily as the thunderous boom of fireworks echoed in the air around us, the first salvo lighting up the night sky. Placing my hand behind Simon’s back, I pulled him in closer and gave him a long, deep kiss.

  I couldn’t have wished for a better quatre juillet.

  I mean, a bloody fireman!

  Just one date, though.

  That’s good.

  I guess.

  “Can I help you?” the saleswoman said automatically, flashing me a confident smile as she approached the display. She had obviously spent a great deal of time perfecting her appearance, taking great pride in the color coordination between her lipstick, nail polish, and strikingly fire-red suit. Her attire was contrasted wildly by the impeccably blow-dried mane of blond hair that sparkled in the light, gliding smoothly across her shoulders.

  “I’d like to find a watch, please,” I explained, still wavering between two particular brands.

  “This is only a small part of our selection, of course,” she said, almost managing to keep the condescending tone from her voice as she stared at the visible fragment of my tattoo. “If you’ll follow me, I’d be happy to show you the rest.”

  My eye twitched slightly. The completely unsubtle loss-prevention officer shadowing me from the moment I came in had been annoying enough, but the saleswoman trying to coax me into a cheaper part of the store was only adding insult to injury. I always hated shopping in a place like this, the employees often clinging to old assumptions and refusing to even give me the time of day.

  “Thanks, but I’d like to look at these watches,” I said tersely, sounding distinctly British. Occasionally, I’d get lucky and run into an elitist who could be impressed with little more than an English accent.

  “Of course,” she repeated, tapping her perfectly manicured fake nails on the glass counter and flashing me a viciously asinine smile. “It’s just that—”

  “Have you ever seen the movie Pretty Woman?” I interrupted, hoping she would take the hint before this turned into an unfortunate open confrontation. I wasn’t in a good mood, but also didn’t want to find another department store just to go through the entire process again. “Perhaps another salesperson working here has?”

  Not giving her time to think of a retort, I continued. “I’m looking for a woman’s watch. Cartier or Mauboussin, perhaps. I want the best quality you sell, and I’m not going to ask how much it costs.”

  It was always a great feeling when I could see the realization beginning to dawn on a money-starved salesperson. It was almost enough to cheer me up, but no amount of petty revenge could make today better. The summer was drawing to a close, and with it my time with Emilia and the rec center.

  Even the best quality watch wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for Emilia, but it would have to do.

  The past two months spent in her company had been a glorious succession of happy days and sensual discoveries. We’d fallen into a wonderful routine of spending our mornings jogging to Johnnie’s for a shared breakfast, our nights spent sleepless and passionate as I learned every inch of her body, continually finding new ways to push her over the edge.

 
; This summer had been the end of my lifelong obsession with my stepsister.

  This summer was the beginning of my hopefully lifelong relationship with Emilia Jones, the woman I loved.

  We had barely been apart since July, spending nearly every moment together.

  I’d helped her bake countless batches of the most delicious cookies, and watched her obsessively tweak parameters in her little flour-stained recipe book to cook the perfect meals for us.

  I’d managed to wedge myself into her apartment’s pocket-sized bathroom so I could hold her hair after a night of heavy drinking in the little Irish pub we’d found across the city.

  I’d watched her coach the boys into a fantastic rugby team, and slowly help rehabilitate Theo until he was well enough to go on the three-day trip to a National Park that we’d soaked ourselves to raise the money for.

  I’d essentially deserted my luxurious hotel room, moving in with her in everything but name, reveling in the way she felt as she slept curled up in my arms.

  I wanted to keep her close to me, to make her mine forever. But the reality of our situations meant that it wasn’t going to happen, at least not yet. We’d talked about it repeatedly, reassuring ourselves that the distance wasn’t going to be a major problem. We could travel back and forth between the US and England, calling it commuting as if it were little more than a drive to the office.

  I hoped we were right, though of course things were going to change some. They had to. We wouldn’t be able to hide in the storage closet at the rec center anymore, stealing a kiss and a grope. No more furtive glances in Adam’s office as he gave us daily briefings. There was an immense distance, but we were going to bridge it somehow.

  She could visit me on her few days of vacation, and I’d visit her as much as I could. Of course, with the World Cup beginning in just a few weeks, I didn’t expect to have much time to spare. Still, I was determined to spend as much of it as I could in Emilia’s arms.

  Pointing to the most delicate Cartier watch in the display, the saleswoman’s eyes practically flashed dollar signs as she pulled it out for me.