Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Partner
Page 3
“I think I peed on you,” I said, laughing then groaning because Logan was hammering me again.
Matt growled beneath me, and his hands slipped between us so he could squeeze and tweak my tits.
I was delirious with pleasure, holding onto consciousness by a thread—and then Logan gave me two hard, ramming strokes and stayed deep. By his jerking hips, I knew he’d come. A moment later he sagged against my back.
“Both of you roll over,” Matt said.
Logan reached around me, his arms encircling both Matt and me, and then we clumsily rolled as one, still connected.
Logan was under me, his cock still lodged deep.
Matt moved between our legs. “Baby, open your legs and let them stay wide.” When I did, he urged Logan’s legs together then clamped them tighter with his knees.
“Slut, hold your pussy open, spread those lips.”
After I spread them, I flattened my fingers against the crease between my pussy and thighs.
Matt flexed his hips forward and drove as deep as he could, then he ground, moving forward and back, his groin roughing my throbbing clit.
“It’s too much,” I said, my voice a thin whine.
He didn’t seem to hear me, just kept grinding—grinding until my clit popped its hood and he was touching the hardened nubbin.
I hissed air between my clenched teeth. Both men were lodged deep. Both holes were stretched. Logan smoothed his hands over my sides then cupped my breasts. His fingers twisted my nipples.
“You’re killing me,” I cried out.
Logan licked the side of my cheek, and I turned to capture his tongue. I sucked it until Matt leaned down and now both men were kissing me, all our mouths blending and blurring.
Resting on his arms, Matt pulled out then powered forward, his hips lunging, forcing his cock into me in steady strokes.
Beneath me, Logan’s hips rocked side to side, and his cock was filling again.
I arched, clamping around Logan, curling toward Matt—and came.
Long moments later, I awoke cradled against Logan’s chest, Matt’s arm slung over my hip.
I drew a deep breath and snuggled against Logan’s sweaty skin. “Don’t expect me to ever choose. Not after something like that.”
“We’ve been thinking…”
As Logan’s voice tapered away, I tilted back my head to read his expression.
Logan cupped the side of my cheek as he smiled. “Why choose?”
“Um, because I’m…supposed to?”
Matt bit the ball of my shoulder, then moved close so he could rest his chin there as he looked into my face. “We’re close, Logan and I. More like brothers than you and I are sister and brother. I don’t mind sharing. I like what we have.”
“So do I,” I said, my heart thudding inside my chest.
“So no more worrying,” he said. He moved closer still and pushed the end of his hard cock between my legs.
Should I warn him Logan was resting his hardening cock there too? We’d learned so much about each other. And I finally knew why Matt didn’t mind sharing me with Logan. Maybe soon, we’d test new boundaries. Maybe they’d still need a nudge.
I smiled. Neither could resist me when I begged.
About Delilah Devlin
Delilah Devlin is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of erotica and erotic romance with a rapidly expanding reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters. She has published over a hundred forty erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths, and she is published by Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora’s Cave, Grand Central, Harlequin Spice, HarperCollins: Mischief, Kensington, Montlake Romance, Running Press, and Samhain Publishing.
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From Sm{B}itten:
True love bites!
Emmy Harris knows she’s not perfect. She has a little extra padding and isn’t the brightest bulb, but you’d think she was a sexy rock star the way everyone at a certain night club treats her from the moment she walks through the door. In fact, the two sexiest men there can’t seem to keep their hands off her, until one of them sweeps her away to his private domain. A girl like her isn’t going to waste a chance like that! So he’s a little rough and likes to take a nibble or two while he pleasures her. For a girl who didn’t know she’d never experienced a full-blown orgasm before, Dylan’s eccentricities are delicious!
Dylan O’Hara only wants a night of passion to slake his lusts, but finds Emmy is a full-bodied, red-blooded siren whose innocence and humor draw this Master vampire like a moth to a red-hot flame. When Emmy attracts the attention of a serial-killing vampire, Dylan vows to protect her, but he fears he’ll lose Emmy once she discovers he’s not quite human…
Be warned. Emmy Harris doesn’t think like most romance heroines. You’ll get a glimpse of her funny little mind here…
Excerpt
At his urging, Emmy couldn’t hold back another second. She dug her fingers harder into his hair and pulled. “Come with me,” she said, her voice tight. And then she whimpered. The experience was too much. He was too much—Mr. Stamina. Too hard and lean and beautiful. His lovemaking was astounding and—something she never thought she’d admit—too strenuous. She panted like she’d run laps, something she’d never ever do.
He shook his head and continued the deep thrusts that pounded against the gate of her womb. Buried to the hilt, he ground his pubic hair against her clitoris until she was so sensitive to the scrape, she thought she might come out of her skin. And she was right effing there, could feel the tension wind tighter in her core.
But she wanted him with her. This one last time, she needed the whole enchilada. “Baby…bite me.”
He stopped. His arms grew rigid and his nostrils flared. “Don’t move,” he said, his voice holding a note of desperation.
“I want you, Dylan. All of you.”
“Dammit! Emmy, do you even know what you’re asking?”
“For you to trust me to be strong?” She lifted her hands to his cheeks. “Do you think I haven’t seen your other face?”
His entire body shuddered, and he closed his eyes. “Then watch,” he whispered.
Breathless with curiosity and a tinge of fear, she held still beneath him. His eyes opened—not the dark orbs she knew were green—but glowing circles that reflected the waning moonlight, like an animal’s. The better to see me.
His cheekbones lifted, popping and cracking as his face reassembled into the monster mask, his skin stretched tight around it. His lips curved above teeth that slid over his human set, long and razor sharp, the longest at the four corners of his smile. The better to eat me.
The most miraculous part of the transformation was the muscle that grew rigid and strained beneath his skin, stretching him outward, turning the arms that held her knees to stone. And his cock was one of those things hardening and enlarging, pushing deeper without a flex of his hips. The better to fuck me.
A low growl rattled in his throat, and for a moment, Emmy had doubts she was really ready for this. Something was wild and primal about that growl. But then his tongue, longer, rougher, swiped along her throat. Her skin grew numb. She relaxed. He’d considered her comfort—part of the man was still inside the monster. Angling her head to the side, she held her breath.
His teeth sank slowly into her neck, burning at first, then he drew, sucking her blood, and pure sensual heat spread from her neck, moving downward and tightening her breasts and belly.
His enlarged cock pushed inside her, pulled out, and pushed again. His thrusts were so powerful her buttocks left the bed with each stroke. Still, he kept a steady rhythm that soon had her wishing he’d move faster, harder, rougher. And s
he told him so.
He growled in response—the Big Bad Wolf buried between her legs, and she reveled in the power to make him lose control and be the beast for her.
That she could inspire the beast in any man was a revelation.