On the Offensive

by Cara Dee

  The shower incident…for all I know, that was a twisted joke on his part.

  "Some skank?" he chuckles incredulously. "I'm sorry, Peyton. I guess we all can't be as perfect as you, you pretentious little—"

  Fed up with his insults, I act before I think and slap him across his face.

  I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand just as his head whips back in my direction, his eyes murderous. Pushing and shoving is one thing, and I don’t know how many times he pinched me or pulled my hair when we were younger, but this…I took it way too far.

  "I'm sorry," I choke out. On the verge of falling apart, I try to move away from him, but he doesn’t let me. He keeps me pinned to the wall, and our close proximity messes with my head. "Please." I struggle against him, a few tears finally falling down. A whimper escapes me. "Back off, Zack. I can't do this anymore."

  "Can't do what?" His chest rumbles with an animalistic sound, perhaps in barely-contained anger. "Can't do what anymore, Peyton?" He grabs my jaw and forces me to look him in the eye. "Fucking tell me already."

  I clamp my mouth shut and shake my head.

  Caught in his intense gaze, I feel my breathing go shallow. It feels like he's searching for something, and I'm desperate to keep him from finding it. But at the same time, the air shifts between us; it grows heavier, almost crackling with unreleased tension. It's like he's coaxing the truth out of me with his mere presence, and I hate it.

  "Do you really want me to let you go?" he asks quietly, imploringly, huskily.

  I swallow as a rush of arousal seeps through me.

  No. "Yes."

  He smirks. "Liar."

  That arrogance makes my fury return tenfold, but before I can get a single word out, he stuns me by crashing his mouth to mine.

  A strangled gasp slips through my lips; I ignite, and he responds by pushing his tongue into my mouth. The shock of it all almost causes me to collapse, but in the meantime, years of pent-up need surfaces to claim, claim, claim. I feel my hands fisting the fabric of his white dress shirt, my mouth moving with his, and my body melting into him.

  His gritty moan goes straight to my pussy. With a gentler nudge than before, he has me more pressed up against the wall, and he follows, pinning me with his body. God, I feel all of him.

  "You don’t want me to stop," he mutters into the kiss. I smack his chest, annoyed, but I deepen the kiss at the same time. "Christ, always with the fucking violence." He grunts and digs his fingers into my hips.

  "Shut up," I say, breathing hard. "Just shut the fuck up." Hitching my right leg over his hip, I silently tell him to give me more, and thankfully he does.

  Shockwaves of pleasure shoot through me when I have both my legs wrapped around him, and he thrusts his cock against my pussy. By now, my dress is bunched around my waist, which means my ass is exposed. The black thong I'm wearing sure doesn’t cover much.

  "Admit that you want me." Breathing heavily, he nips at my jaw, sucks on my neck, and lets his hands roam. His actions are rough, palming my ass in his hands. "This fucking ass…" He moans and claims my mouth again.

  "I won't admit to shit," I pant, and he thrusts again. "Oh, God." I whimper and he chuckles breathlessly, to which I bite down on his bottom lip. Hard.

  Cocky jerk.

  "Bitch!" He glares at me and swipes the tip of his tongue over the spot I bit. Letting me go completely, he stares me down, chest heaving. "You infuriating, motherfucking…"

  I cock a brow, challenging him to finish that sentence, but he doesn’t. Instead he steps forward again, and then he rips the thin straps of my dress before pushing down the zipper at my side.

  "What the hell are you doing?!" I shout.

  "You won't admit that you want me? Fine," he grits out as he tears off my dress. I'm too shocked to say anything at the moment. "In that case, I dare you to tell me to stop." That said, he flicks off my bra and dives for my tits, smashing them together roughly. "Jesus Christ." He makes me cry out in ecstasy when he sucks a nipple into his mouth. "I'm waiting, Peyton. Tell me to stop." He licks, bites, and sucks, hands cupping and massaging greedily.

  "Fuck," I gasp, throwing my head back. "Don’t stop, Zack—don’t stop!"

  "Believe me. I won't."

  We don’t talk about it, because it's already clear where this is going. While I undo his belt with shaky fingers, he dips down and kisses my neck. His hands go to my breasts once more, fondling them like he can't get enough. He pushes them up, feeling their weight, and moans against my skin.

  As I unzip his pants, he reaches for his wallet and takes out a condom.

  Chapter 4

  This is really fucking happening. With Zack.

  I feel like I'm in an alternate universe—one where my stepbrother actually desires me. My brain is slow to catch up, but I need to get it into my head that he actually does want me. For whatever reason.

  While I push down his pants and boxers, he gives his cock a couple strokes before rolling on the condom.

  "I like this, by the way." He gently flicks the jewelry in my belly button. "It's sexy."

  I don’t respond, 'cause I don’t feel the same. It used to be sexy—when I had a toned stomach. Now, not so much. I don’t even know why I haven't taken it out.

  So, instead of answering him, I coax him closer and kiss his collarbone.

  He groans quietly. "Let me feel you." Then his hand slips under the fabric of my thong. Two long fingers trace my wet slit; we both moan. "Jesus, you're fucking bare, Peyton." Lolling my head back against the wall again, I focus on the sensation of Zack finger-fucking me. He's good—better than good. Goddamn amazing. If I was wet before, I'm drenched now. My eyes close. Shivers run through me. "Do you have any idea how many times I've thought of this?"

  I frown, confused, and open my eyes again. "What?" Thought of this? Of what exactly?

  He just shakes his head and withdraws his fingers.

  "I need to fuck you," he grunts, lifting me back off the floor. My legs go around him, and he's right there—his thick, hot, heavy cock.

  "You wouldn’t rather fuck your little bimbo at the party?" I snark, being all jealous and catty. I'm such a shit. Being attracted to him is one thing, but developing a crush…forming deeper feelings for him… There's a special place in hell for me.

  "You jealous, sis?" he chuckles, arching a brow. I scowl and fist his tie, to which he shoves his cock deep inside of me. I cry out, nearly banging my head against the wall behind me, and Zack spits out a curse. Oh God, oh God, oh God. He's big; he feels so good—the way he's stretching me. A pinch of pain and a whole lot of incredible pleasure. "Christ, you're tight." He drops his forehead to my shoulder. "For the record…" He sets a fast pace, fucking me up against the wall like he's punishing me. "I told Violet to get lost."

  "So, skank's got a name," I mumble and lean forward to kiss his jaw.

  His five o'clock shadow feels raspy against my lips, but I love it. My teeth graze his skin, and he groans, going harder, deeper, faster. When he grinds into me, I gasp. It's like he's reached some divine spot. I feel myself contracting around him, and my breathing…I can't explain it, but it becomes harder, more difficult. I'm gasping and crying out.

  "You're impossible, Peyton," he moans. "Just—fuck, that’s good." I suck on the spot below his ear. I feel the shudder running through him, and I dig my heels into his ass, encouraging him to fuck me crazy. "Look at me." He slows down, remaining inside of me.

  Cautiously, heart pounding, I look him in the eye.

  "Be straight with me," he whispers through heavy breaths. "I'm done fighting with you. Just tell me the truth." I release a shaky breath, nervous as hell all of a sudden. "You want me to go first?" He doesn’t give me time to respond, even though my "yes" was already at the tip of my tongue. "I want you. And not like this." His brows furrow, and he pulls out of me.

  Next, my feet are back on the floor and dread creeps up my spine. Is he ending this before it even started?

  "This isn't right," he mu
tters, seemingly to himself, as he pulls up his pants again.

  Rejection hurts. More than I thought possible.

  I hug myself, feeling barer than I've ever felt. No past fling, hookup, or boyfriend has ever disarmed me like Zack has—is doing, rather. The need to cover myself up is taking over, but he stops me.

  "Come here," he says and grabs my hand. He ushers me into my room and locks the door behind us, tossing my dress to the side. "Don’t hide from me." Now his voice is softer. Standing right in front of me, in the middle of the floor, he gently places his hands on my hips. "I doubt you know, but you almost gave me a fucking heart attack when I first got here."

  My frown is instant. Still feeling too exposed, I bite down on my lip and duck my head.

  He chuckles. "I just told you not to hide from me." He hooks a finger under my chin and makes me face him. "You have no idea how fucking gorgeous you are—hence the heart attack I mentioned." At that, my eyes widen. "Yeah, you've changed. Gone from a sexy teenager to a downright sinful woman. And tonight…" He grins and shakes his head. "For example, these tits." He cups mine and squeezes.

  I whimper and watch as he licks his lips.

  "Spectacular fuckin' tits," he mumbles and lowers his mouth to them. First one nipple, then the other. No words can describe how good it feels. "Big, round, soft—every man's dream, I'm tellin' ya."

  "Zack…" I don’t know what to say; this is so foreign to me. Compliments, sure I've received them, but when they come from Zack, they take on new meaning.

  "No. You're just going to listen to me now." He walks me backward, toward the bed, and I end up in the middle of it. "Fuck." He scrubs his hands over his face, kneeling between my parted legs. "You drive me to the brink of insanity."

  I crack a grin. "It's mutual."

  "I know." He smirks and leans over me, hovering. Noses almost touching. "In a way, I like having someone who won't take my shit. But we need to bury the fucking hatchet, baby."

  Baby.

  My mouth suddenly feels dry. Heat rushes to my cheeks, which he notices.

  "Beautiful." He kisses my lips. "Now, where was I? Right. Your body." His hands skim my sides; it tickles a little. "You're soft—all woman." With a serious yet heated look in his eyes, he tells me, "Don’t fucking change that." Then his eyes follow his own movements, down my hips and thighs. "You didn’t see the assholes gawking at you all night, but I sure as fuck did." He scowls. "Drove me mad."

  He makes me squirm. Before, in the hallway…that was lust and need and crazy and anger. But this, this is different. It's sensual, erotic, deep, and so new.

  "And your sweet pussy." He drops a kiss on my hipbone and inhales. "I can smell you."

  "Please," I beg. "I want you." There. I finally said it out loud, though my actions have been saying it for a while now.

  "At last she confesses," he chuckles to himself. He's so close that I can feel his breath over my pussy. Then I feel more—his soft lips. They ghost over my slit, his tongue peeking out to part my folds. "Damn, you taste good."

  "Oh God," I breathe out.

  While he gets comfortable and takes off his tie, shirt, and pushes his pants down all the way, he keeps his eyes on me. "Touch your tits, Peyton. Do that and I'll eat you out."

  Holy shit, he's got a wicked way with words.

  I find myself obeying him. And he devours my pussy with his mouth. His tongue licks, enters me, and swipes up my arousal. His teeth graze my sensitive skin, causing me to arch my back. His dirty-talk makes me cry out for more. His lips suck. His fingers fuck.

  "You close?"

  I nod frantically and fist the sheets. "Yes!" I'm right on the edge, everything inside of me waiting to uncoil and erupt.

  "Good." He backs away, but before I can scream at him to continue, he covers my body with his, hitches my legs around his hips, and drives his cock deep into my pussy. "Motherfuck."

  "Shit!" I cry out. He fills me over and over with deep, long strokes, his hand slipping between us to reach my clit. It only takes a minute or two for me to be on the edge again, and through breathless chanting, I beg him not to stop.

  "Never, baby," he whispers gruffly in my ear. "Come on. Let me feel you come around my cock."

  I explode.

  Lips parted in a silent scream, I come undone as he continues to fuck me. Wave after wave of orgasmic bliss crashes down on me. Goose bumps appear on my skin. I feel his big cock slamming into me, pulling out slowly, then sliding in again. I hear the wet sounds from our movements. I dig my head back into my pillow, exposing my neck, and it's so that I can breathe easier.

  "Fuck—oh, Zack," I groan, coming down from my high.

  Panting and gasping, I assumed I'd calm down, be like mush, and wanting to sleep, but that’s definitely not the case. If anything, I'm more crazed now. More energetic. Greedy. Possessed. When I give him a push, he lets me change our positions so I'm on top. Then I sink down on his thick cock, exhilarated and ready for more.

  "Too sexy," he moans and sits up. With me riding him, he focuses more on my tits and kissing me.

  I focus on his inked arms. I remember when he got his first tattoo—he was eighteen—but now they're both covered. Dates, names, lyrics, pictures…and it's so fucking hot. I kiss the skin, nibble a little, and suck, wanting to leave my own mark on him.

  "Give me your mouth, Peyton."

  I do, as I scratch my nails down his defined chest and abs. He hisses. We kiss hungrily, tongues mingling and teeth clashing. He makes me desperate for more of him, and I finally gather the courage to tell him how I've felt.

  "I had my first dream about you when I was fourteen." Swiveling my hips, I take him deeper. He moans into my mouth and grabs at my ass. "As I got—" I swallow a whimper as my clit comes into contact with his pelvic bone "—got, got older…I fantasized. About kissing you, tasting you." I throw my head back and rest my hands on his thighs. When I slam down on him, his guttural groan causes a rush of wetness to coat his cock. "I fantasized about sucking you off."

  "God-fucking-dammit," he spits out, and when he's in my line of vision again, I see how his muscles in his neck and shoulders strain. "Almost there." His hooded eyes meet mine; he lowers his mouth to my tits again, by now probably knowing how much I love that. He sucks on my nipples until they're hard little points that he pinches. "You like that, baby?" I nod quickly and roll my hips over his cock. Our bodies glisten with tiny beads of sweat; the sight makes my mouth water. "I can't tell you how many times I've jacked off thinking about these tits."

  Yesterday…? Was he really thinking about me in the shower yesterday? It's so weird to think Zack would actually want me like I want him, but when staring the truth in the eye, it's impossible to deny it. He wants me; it's just going to take time to come to grips with it.

  "I remember when I came home after my first semester in college." He flips me over, his cock finding me quickly. Gripping the headboard above my head, he pounds into me, our skin slapping with each impact. "You weren't some little annoying girl anymore." I claw at his back, needing, needing, needing. Then his hot breath is in my ear, a husky whisper following.

  "You became my fucking obsession, Peyton."

  Without warning, something blazing hot rocks through my entire body, shaking me to my core. The unexpected climax is so intense that I'm not aware of what's happening around me. All I know is the pleasure I'm drowning in and the way every fiber of my being goes rigid. I'm not even breathing.

  Moment later, I don’t know how long, I vaguely register Zack's gritty curses as he comes. His harsh and hot breathing against my shoulder turns my skin more damp, and in an attempt to prolong his orgasm, I clamp down around his pulsing cock as hard as I can. And in response, I hear a quiet whimper close to my ear.

  "Fuck," I pant. "So amazing."

  He nods in the crook of my neck and drops a kiss there.

  I collapse next to him, spent in the best way.

  Chapter 5

  Afterward, Zack is quick to leave the bed and
the room, but before I can panic, he's back, explaining that he had to get rid of the condom. Then he hops back into bed as quickly as he left it, this time pulling the covers over us.

  He draws me close, almost cocooning me, and I find myself relaxing completely in his arms.

  Now what?

  The question is on the tip of my tongue, but I'm too chickenshit to ask. Instead I just cling to him, and for the first time in years, I'm not looking for an escape. It's the opposite.

  Several minutes pass in silence, but it's comfortable. The only thing I don’t like are my thoughts—my worries. Because now it's clear that our time is up before we've even started. I mean…we live on opposite coasts. How would it ever work? And now I'm getting ahead of myself. Shit.

  "Are we done being stupid, baby?" He tilts my chin up to face him.

  I swallow hard and manage a small nod. "I only hated you because…" I want you. I can't get enough of you. Suddenly feeling shy, I let the last words belonging to that sentence stay within me.

  But he seems to understand. "Same here," he admits. Rolling us over, he ends up half on top of me, and he kisses me so deeply, so perfectly, so, so…just so. I moan softly; he groans and hitches a leg over my thighs. Our tongues mingle, our hands roam, and our lips suck. "Christ, your body, Peyton." It's almost a whine—a gruff, needy one. A large hand moves over my left breast; he always returns to them. Kneading, cupping, squeezing them together, fingers pinching and plucking. He makes me feel so fucking wanted. Desired. Sexy. "You feel what you do to me?" He pushes his semi-hard cock against my hip.

  "You do it to me, too," I whimper, pulling him closer. "I want you—again, now."

  In an instant, he's hovering over me, foreheads touching. "Thank God." He kisses me hard and thrusts his tongue into my eager mouth, but he breaks away too soon. "It's all I can think about—putting my hands on your body," he moans as he slides his cock between the wet lips of my pussy. "Kissing you, fucking you—shit." He stops, our heavy breathing the only sound in the room. "I just need to go up to my room and grab another condom. Unless…" He hesitates, and I look him in the eye, hopeful and desperate. "Never mind." He shakes his head quickly and begins to move away. "I'll be right back."