I pressed kisses against her neck and décolletage, softly undoing the tie to the silk robe so that she was completely nude beneath me. I have never seen such female perfection to this day. Her limbs were slender and pale, her skin luminous. Sweetly, she arched her back, her wet nipples begging for my touch.
I obliged and began suckling once more, tasting the mother’s milk. Never have I experienced such an aphrodisiac as nursing from a woman I loved. Her breast flesh was so sensitive yet firm too, the life-giving liquid pulsing into my mouth in sweet, hot spurts.
I trailed a hand up her thigh, gently so as not to unsettle her. My fingers slipped to her warm folds and were gratified to find that they were already damp, the flesh engorged and moist. I probed her clit with a fingertip, rubbing the nub until she sighed into my mouth, and then circling it before moving lower to sample her hole.
Her cunny was warm and hot, with liquid pouring slightly into my hand. I teased her nether lips, massaging the sensitive flesh before probing deeper into her hole. Her inner channel was steaming and hot, and I pulled apart her lips to get a better look at her insides … ah yes, she was undeniably aroused, her inner vulva deep pink and glistening, the warm folds trailing a bead of damp, white moisture.
Eager to taste, I gave up suckling for a moment and scooted down so that I lay between her thighs. I moved them gently, careful not to manhandle my wildflower, and lowered my face to her twat for a deep sniff. She was fragrant, sweetly aromatic with the deep spice of arousal.
I tickled her for a moment with my tongue, lightly trailing up her pussy lips. She squirmed a bit underneath me and breathed my name.
“Luke!” she cried. My heart flipped over. She’d said my name during sex when we first became lovers two years ago, but since then, she’d remained resolutely mute during our lovemaking, only breathy cries and gasps alerting me to her needs. My name on her lips cemented my resolve to protect this girl and our baby boy forever, and I was literally trembling as I dipped my head to taste her again.
Her hips began bucking underneath my mouth, and I suckled her clit as my finger penetrated her depths. I began a gentle rhythm in her vulva, one finger in and out, but it didn’t seem to be enough.
“More!” she cried breathily.
I slipped another finger into her, which assuaged her somewhat, but her bucking hips seemed to need more, and obligingly, I penetrated her with three fingers, her flesh splitting wide to accommodate my girth. My hand glistened with her juices as I continued to suckle, her sweet body writhing underneath me. With a slight shudder, Alana came hotly, a gush of wetness hitting my tongue as her body tingled and thrashed beneath me. Her cunny pulsed sweetly around my fingers, clenching down hard and then releasing and clenching again, the tremors hot and fast as they ran through her body. She gasped, her breasts hard peaks pointing towards the ceiling as she was wracked with sensation, her body beautiful and bare to my eyes.
As she came down from the orgasm, she turned to me and ran a gentle hand down my chest.
“What about you?” she asked softly.
“Baby, I’m not sure you’re ready for me,” I ground out roughly. “You were sick recently and I’m so big …” I trailed.
Her little palm went down to my hardness and encircled it. I almost came right then and there. It was heaven after I wasn’t sure that I was ever going to feel her on me again. She squeezed lightly, savoring the delight of hard flesh wrapped in softness, and tantalizingly ran her finger over my tip where a drop of pre-cum glistened.
Flirtatiously, she brought her finger to her lips and tasted the pre-cum, letting her tongue lick lasciviously.
“I think I can handle it,” she purred softly, kissing me on the lips.
That was all I needed to hear. I rolled her over onto her back, split her legs, and plunged into her depths with my cock. She gasped, her voice breathy and hot in my mouth.
“Luke!” she cried. The sound of my name on her lips drove me over the edge and I began pumping into her furiously, my hips like a piston as I ran in and out of her soft flesh. Her wetness encased me like a velvet glove, stimulating my glans and the hard shaft that ran repeatedly into her flesh. I pumped like a madman, trying to control myself, but totally lost in the arms of my beautiful wildflower. My arms strained as my groin tightened, and I felt my balls lift and begin to release.
“AAH!” I roared as I pumped into her, my man milk seeding her over and over again. Rope after rope of cum emptied into her hot channel, her pussy trembling as it contracted around me, sucking up the semen hungrily. Her cunny tightened and relaxed around my shaft, milking me dry, and my balls strained and trembled as they contracted, pumping hot sperm into the only woman who was right for me.
I collapsed on her, crushing the tiny woman beneath my massive frame.
“Baby …” I began. “Baby … I’ve never felt so complete. You are everything to me,” I murmured into her neck. “I love you so much, I can’t ever let you go.”
I felt, rather than heard, her sob. What the …? What man tells a woman he loves her only to have her start crying beneath him? I lifted myself up and looked deeply into her blue eyes. They were indeed swimming with tears and she caressed my face as a drop trailed down her cheek.
“Luke …” she said. “You can’t understand how grateful I am for your kindness to me this past week,” she said. “Taking care of Georgie … taking care of me … it’s what every woman dreams of. But …” her voice trailed off.
“But what?” I demanded. “What is it?”
“But …” she said softly. “We’re still siblings. People will talk, and there will always be rumors if we’re together. And so … I’m not sure what’s next for us, but we can’t go public, do you understand? I want Georgie to have a sane and normal life, and that isn’t possible if we’re together.”
I shushed her with a deep kiss, letting my lips do the talking.
“Alana,” I said. “I’m not sure how to fix this, but I refuse to let the two of you just waltz out of my life again. I’ll find a way. Do you hear me? I will find a way to fix this. Just trust me on this.”
She was quiet for an instant and then raised her hand to my cheek, stroking it softly.
“I know you will, Luke,” she said, and gave me a gentle kiss of promise. My heart turned over, and I determined to do my best by this wildflower and her baby boy.
THE END
Read A Baby for My Billionaire Stepbrother, Part 5 next
Previously …
The girl I’d called Wildflower had walked out on me two years ago, leaving my bed empty and cold. I’d shuddered in her absence, my body aching as my mind whirled with worthless thoughts. How could she have done this? How could she have walked out on a relationship so caring, loving and mutually respectful? My body ached each night in remembrance of her warm, female heat.
But a chance encounter brought her back to me. Except this time the blonde had a baby in tow, and one look at the child was a revelation. His dark hair and grey eyes were a spitting image of me, from the top of his head to the bottom of his toes. And no way was I going to let Wildflower waltz off again without a battle this time … especially with my child in her arms!
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Luke
I choked as I saw her walking down the aisle. She was so beautiful, small and slim, yet elegant and dignified, projecting more class than a queen. She wore a knee-length dress of white lace as we stood before the podium, her smile warm and inviting as we turned to face the Justice of Peace.
Finally! I had my wildflower where I wanted her. My beautiful girl was about to become my bride. I wasn’t taking any chances this time. After her brush with death two weeks ago, I’d practically become her warden, not letting her out of my sight, trailing her from room to room through our apartment.
Seeing her lying in the hospital bed had caused my world to come crashing down. I’d realized with sudden clarity that my life wasn’t worth living without her, that she was my everything. I’d confided
my love to her comatose form, and as luck would have it, my wildflower had woken and forgiven me.
But there was still the unsettling problem of our family relationship. You see, Wildflower and I are step-siblings. Her biological father, Robert Woodson, is my stepfather, making us some fucked-up family. She’d been reluctant to marry me at first, arguing that our son Georgie would always be tainted by the smear of incest, but I’d steamrolled her. I’d insisted, arguing that Georgie would benefit from a stable home with two parents who loved him. Beneath my onslaught of words and mindblowing sex, I’d overcome Wildflower’s defenses and here we were, at the altar at last.
The rush to City Hall was my doing. As soon as she’d said yes this morning, I’d booked an appointment with the magistrate, intent on legitimizing our union asap. I wasn’t taking any chances. She was going to be mine, physically, emotionally, and legally. I’d whipped out the ivory dress from her closet and almost dressed her in it myself.
She’d laughed when she’d seen how eager I was.
“Luke,” she gasped breathlessly. “There’s no rush, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Baby, I can’t wait,” I’d growled. “I’ve spent two years apart from you, and I almost just lost you again because of that stupid event. I’m so sorry,” I murmured, burying my face in her hair. “I want you to be Mrs. Miller asap.”
She’d stroked my hair comfortingly, murmuring, “Okay, we’ll go this afternoon then. Don’t we have to find our birth certificates or something?”
“I’ve got all that covered,” I said. “I had my staff look up your records and everything’s taken care of.”
She pulled back. “My birth certificate?” she said curiously. “Really? You were able to locate it?”
“Sure, why not?” I said. “You were born in Queens, right?”
She bowed her head. “Yes, but … I’ve never even seen my birth certificate. My mom was terrible with records, so I’ve always just trusted that my name is Alana Johnson. It could be Wildflower Jones for all I know,” she teased.
“But how did you enroll in school and get all that legal stuff done?” I asked, nonplussed.
She shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. I guess my mom was able to finagle it somehow. A student ID turned into a driver’s license, and I never needed more than that. I’ve never travelled internationally, you see,” she said shyly. “So I’ve never needed a passport.”
I growled. That was about to change. I was a rich man and was going to shower all of my resources on Wildflower and my son, including international travel on my private jet, staying in the best hotels, and enjoying luxuries they’d never had. Okay, so she was practically an undocumented immigrant, but she was my undocumented immigrant and I was about to make her mine … forever.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Alana
He was so handsome, brooding and dark, standing at the altar. He was staring at me so hard that my heart skipped a beat and my cheeks flushed. I knew I’d always feel this way about him, always had and always will.
With his raven hair and black suit, I knew I’d lucked out – how many women got to marry their Prince Charming who was loving, handsome and rich to boot? But his money made no difference to me. I would have married him even if he’d been a pauper. The blue eyes glued to my form as I moved up the aisle made me grow hot again. How had I landed a husband so persuasive, magnetic, and charismatic?
The truth was, I wasn’t sure. Luke had swept me off my feet when I was nineteen, and since then life hadn’t been the same. Our first weeks together had been like a fairytale, but when I’d discovered that we were related, I’d fled without a word, not wanting to taint him with the rumor of incest. He was a powerful man, and a favorite of gossip columns. They’d have a field day if they knew Luke was dating his stepsister.
Of course, it’d been too late … I was already pregnant with Georgie when I’d left. But secretly, I’d been gloriously happy knowing that I’d have a reminder of my dark, handsome lover for the rest of my life.
And Georgie was the image of his father. So much so that when Luke had stumbled upon us two years later, he’d immediately recognized himself stamped in Georgie’s features, a paternity that could not be denied.
And so here we were. The three of us were going to be family now in the eyes of the law. I was overflowing with happiness, so much so that I felt light-headed standing before the minister, my smile a ray of light.
The issue of incest still bedeviled me though. Luke was a powerful man, and our father was an aspiring politician. Robert Woodson was gearing up for a run for Senate, and how would it look if it got out that his daughter and stepson were lovers? Not just lovers, but married with a son? It could destroy his campaign.
Plus, I wanted the best for Georgie, and still wasn’t sure how this was going to work out … living in New York was almost not an option. Everyone knew the Woodson’s, they were a prominent family. I sighed, trying to clear my head. No matter what, I would always have Luke, and we would stick together through thick and thin.
The minister cleared his throat and began his sonorous rumblings.
“Does anyone here know why I should not join this man and woman in marriage today?” he declared.
Given that it was only Luke, myself, and the wedding photographer, there was blessed silence. The minister started moving onto the next portion of the ceremony when suddenly the door burst open and Sabrina stood at the entryway.
“Stop!” she shrieked, “She’s a slut!” she exclaimed, pointing at me, a piece of paper clutched in her hand. Both Luke and I turned, me trembling and him audibly growling at the interruption.
“What the fuck?” he roared. Sabrina was a woman he’d dated during our two years apart. Although I’d been celibate, Luke evidently had taken up with a string of women. He’d promised me that it was nothing but sex, and I believed him. After all, he was a man with needs and I could hardly deny his virility.
But Sabrina was hard to ignore. Gorgeous, five foot eleven, with emerald green eyes and a lithe figure, she’d somehow developed the impression that Luke was going to marry her. He’d assured me that this was delusional on her part. They’d gone out a few times, but there had certainly been no talk of marriage or even anything more serious than the next date.
I trembled like a leaf before a firestorm. Sabrina strode up to the platform with the piece of paper in her hand and presented it to the justice.
“See here?” she said. “Alana Johnson is the daughter of Robert Woodson and Lilly Johnson. She can’t get married to Luke because they’re siblings,” she declared.
The minister frowned. “Is this true?” he asked, scrutinizing the birth certificate.
I opened my mouth to answer, but my throat was dry and scratchy, unable to make out any words. Luke answered for us both.
“Yes,” he said darkly. “Technically it’s true …” he trailed off, glaring at Sabrina.
“Sir,” said the justice. “Then I can’t marry you. In New York, persons known to be related, whether through blood or marriage, cannot be legally married. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to halt this ceremony.”
I felt dizzy. We’d come so close to legitimizing our union, and yet we’d lost everything … again. Luke and I were never going to be together. I bowed my head, tears pooling in my eyes before spilling down my cheeks. I knew that this was a lost cause, and gave up the fight then and there in my heart.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Luke
“Wildflower, listen to me,” I ground out. “It’s not over yet. I’m a powerful man. I can find some way to be together, there’s got to be a way. I just need to give my team some time to do more research.”
“Luke, stop,” she said softly. “It’s over. We’ve lost. Now we know that we can never be married, and there’s no point in fighting it. I don’t want to live in sin, so we’ve got to be apart, don’t you see? It’s just the way it has to be.”
I shook my head furiously, but had no reply. I was livid at
the way things had gone. I’d actually hustled Wildflower all the way to the altar, only to be foiled by that bitch at the last minute. I rued the day my mother had introduced me to Sabrina. Somehow, the cunt had gotten her hands on a copy of Alana’s birth certificate and totally blown our chance at happiness. Now Wildflower and I could never be married in NYC.
How she’d gotten that birth certificate was still a mystery to me. I’d questioned my entire staff because I’d figured there’d been a leak in my inner circle. But I wasn’t so sure anymore. My people had been loyal to me for fifteen years, and it was difficult to believe that one of them would sell me out, trashing my opportunity with the one and only woman I’d ever loved. Someone or something more nefarious was involved, and I was determined to find out what.
In the meantime, I loved Alana and was determined to have her, even if our wedding ceremony had been thwarted today. I lowered my head and demonstrated my love in the best way I knew how. I kissed her where her pulse beat at her throat, the rhythm immediately skyrocketing as my tongue tasted her lovely flesh. My wildflower was so sweet, so responsive to me, even at the nadir of our relationship.
“Please,” I murmured, “Just give me more time. I want to make it right. That bitch …” I spat. “That bitch,” I continued, controlling myself, “shouldn’t make a difference. Don’t give up so easily,” I pleaded.
She stroked my hair softly, her fingers running through the thick softness. I took advantage of the moment and captured her mouth for a deep kiss. “Alana,” I groaned. “Don’t give up…”
“I know,” she breathed into my mouth. “I know …”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Alana
Anonymous Encounters (The Billionaires Club Book 5) Page 36
