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Stepbrother: Alpha Billionaire (Taboo First Time Billionaire Stepbrother Romance)

Page 4

by Stephanie Brother


  "I need you inside me", I say. "I need you to fuck me."

  Felix draws his long fingers out of my pussy. He takes his tongue away from my clit, leaving me buzzing, trembling. I'm on fire, except there are no flames. There's no smoke, just the sensation that I'm about to explode, like a ticking time bomb.

  "I thought you'd never ask", Felix says, giving my pussy one last, long, lick that nearly makes me come. "Are you ready to lose your virginity?"

  I change position, twisting around deftly so I can face him. "Are you ready to take it", I say, turning the question back on him.

  There is that smile again, the turning of the lip at the corner of the mouth. I kiss it, scoot back towards his cock. Fold myself forward against his chest.

  "Be gentle", I say.

  "Me?" Felix asks, "I'm always gentle."

  Chapter 6

  I have never done this before, not once. It would be understandable for me to feel embarrassed. To fold up or break down from the pressure. He is, after all, the man that I love. This is, after all, the most important moment of my life. I don't crumble, however. I get myself into position, refuse his attempts to take control, at least for now, and make him want me. Wait, that isn't exactly true. I make him need me.

  I crouch over him, squatting, so he can see from his position spread out on the bed, arms by his side, exactly what I'm doing. Twelve hours ago our parents got married in the garden that the window to this bedroom looks out on. Three years ago I wasn't even in this state. I rub the sensitive crown of his cock around my clitoris, and it makes his leg jump. I introduce the fat swollen head of his meat into the contours of my pussy hole and Felix wheezes with joy, his body tense, ready to enter me.

  Felix, the alpha billionaire. Felix, the ass-hole. Felix, my stepbrother now. What wicked games the world plays on us, what tricks. Balanced, perfectly poised, I pause momentarily, ready to belong to him. Ready to make him mine.

  The lip curls again. "Do it Cass", he says.

  There is a kind of harmonious perfection about this moment. It is almost as if time slows to a complete standstill, calm enough for me to hear the blood pumping through his body, the consonance it offers with my own. There is a lilt, a murmur, a perfect balance between us both like the flawlessness of birdsong, his breath and my own in unison. Synchronised, then syncopated one after the other, rising, ready to crescendo. I let my weight drop, my body dancing now, in rhythm with his, matched perfectly. I widen, or, more accurately, his insistence widens me and together, through pain that dissipates into a blanket of fiery, reckless pleasure, he enters me.

  The pleasure that cascades through me is unlike any I have ever felt before. My knees buckle beneath me and I can't help but fall slightly forwards, planting my hand on the safety of his chest to halt my fall any further. I'm moaning too, loud enough to realise I have absolutely no control over the sounds coming out of my chest, from so deep within they could be coming from my soul. I sound like an animal of the darkest ebbs of a forgotten night, and then I realise he's doing it too, the two of us locked in some bizarre mating call understood only by one another. It's crawling through me like oil slicks along a river's surface, thick in my veins, ready to choke me from within. I drop my knees, so they rest flat on the bed against his hips, push myself upwards so I can see him. Let him watch me. I arch my back and ride him deeper into me, his balls locked fat against the tightness of my ass-hole.

  "Are you ok?" he asks me.

  I can barely nod.

  "That feels fucking amazing", he says again. His hands are on my tits, my neck, my hips, all over me all at once.

  "Did you ever think." I say, rolling my hips forward, marching now, getting the hang of it. "Did you ever think", I say again, the words locked in my throat. "You'd be fucking your stepsister?"

  I tilt my head upwards exposing my neck. I reach backwards to place my hands on his knees, back arched like a cat in heat. Like this, my clit is slightly exposed, completely vulnerable. He moves his fingers there, encourages me to rock myself backwards and forwards over them. I'm shapes and colours, a fireball twisting into flames at the edge of a fountain of fizzing pleasure. Felix is my dream, my darkest desire brought forth. I squeeze hard just to make sure he's there, take his hand and let it grip my neck. There are knots in my skin. Whorls in my stomach. I'm climbing. Fuck, I'm climbing.

  He's so deep inside me, I can feel him everywhere all at once. It's like he's fucking every single nerve ending I have across my whole body. Not only that, it feels like he's fucking my very existence, marking this moment in time, like a scar on my soul that will never wear away.

  I don't even notice when he changes position. I'm so lost inside it, floating my way towards heaven that when he turns me around, places me face up on the bed and lifts my legs into the air to drill his way ever deeper inside me, I don't do anything but comply. There is the soft wet sound of his balls slapping against the skin below my pussy, and an overwhelming sensation of orgasmic delight gripping my skin in trembling pulses.

  I have my eyes closed because the sensation is too much, and then I open them because I need to see. I watch him disappear inside me, draw out and disappear again. I feel his full weight crush my chest and trap me against the bed, and even though I know it's not physically possible, I try and pull him even closer.

  The words slip out of me before I have a chance to stop them. Our eyes lock, and when I see the effect they have on him, I immediately know the meaning of the look he gives back to me. It's the look he gave me when he hid my teddy bear behind his back, the look when the snowball exploded against my chest. It's the look I always thought was sarcasm or irony and now know was nothing like it.

  "I love you too", he says back to me. "Fuck Cass, I really do."

  I am on my knees when it happens. I don't know how long we've been losing ourselves in each other, how many positions we've cycled through, nor how many times it's come and gone like a sneeze refusing to leave the body.

  I am way out beyond anywhere I'd imagined I would ever be. Felix is like a God behind me. First knees down, then one knee up, now standing in a crouch, holding my hips tightly and pulling me on to him. I feel him against my G-spot in ways I never imagined were possible. I'd read about this skeptically, always believed there was no truth in the possibility. Now I know that's not true.

  When it comes, I feel tingles along my spine spreading out in the nerves across my lower back, like water filling the long dried tributaries of a centuries old river. My legs jerk uncontrollably at the knee, sliding ungracefully out across the duvet like the body of an epileptic, in the throes of a powerful, midnight fit. I have a spasm in my neck that pulls my chin up and I can't help but moan loudly, like a trapped animal finally released out of captivity. It is absorbing in ways I cannot accurately describe, and it refuses to abate, coming at me again in pulses that only increase in intensity. I've had orgasms before, but never like this. I've never had sex, but I know that sex isn't what's making me feel this way. I know this is more than that. This is Felix. This is my stepbrother, and this is love. I want to speak, but when I go to say the words, nothing comes out.

  My pussy is convulsing hard, making my stomach buck up and down like I'm retching, ready to be sick. The reality couldn't be any further from the truth. Felix has one hand on my hip, another reaching for a shoulder that refuses to settle. The whole upper half of my body is convulsing in repeated movements as the orgasm drills through my torso, taking complete control of me.

  "Cass, I'm going to", Felix says. My eyes widen, his cock thick and still swelling.

  "Inside me", I shout, forcing the words into coherence. "Come inside me." I call again, head twisted into the pillow.

  "Fuck, oh my God, fuck. Oh Cassie."

  There is a moment again, like the one before, where the world slows. Life is not consisted of many moments like this. If you are lucky to find the one you love then perhaps you'll experience something similar. Maybe when your baby is born, or when you cheat death. Maybe when y
ou've made peace with the world and you see it for what it really is. They don't come often though, and entire lives pass many people by without ever producing a single one.

  His cock head, lodged deep inside me, swells. His balls tighten together, against the tender tumescent skin of my pussy lips. One hand grips my hair, and holds it tightly, while the other grasps the skin around my waist, turning his fingers white.

  His body tenses against mine before a pause, the minute, infinitesimal moment of absolute perfection between the two transitions and then an almighty explosion of ruptured ecstasy signalling the build up, the pivot and the final release of several years of hidden desire. He convulses, grips tightly onto me, twists his neck skyward and groans so loudly the windows shake in their frames. Finally, his body spent and mine reeling, he folds himself onto my back, and we crumble together into the duvet.

  A long time passes. We sleep, we cuddle, we fuck again like animals. He holds me and I fall asleep in his arms, his Princess at least, at least for the night.

  Chapter 7

  We have to listen at the door in the morning to make sure that no-one is in the corridor when I leave it. I rush back to my own room, shower and get changed. At the prepared breakfast we sit amongst our guests as stepsister and stepbrother, none of them any wiser to the new development to our also recently changed status. The day before yesterday we were not stepbrother and stepsister, but then we weren't lovers either. It's crazy to think that in order to become so, we had to become step siblings first.

  I mention this to Felix in the car on the way back home.

  "I don't know why", Felix says. "I guess I just felt like if I didn't tell you then, it wouldn't happen at all. I guess I didn't realise until that moment how real all of this was. After mom died, I never thought dad would really get remarried. I never thought the person he'd choose would be your mom either. That's just crazy. I still can't get over it."

  There are things I want to say to him, but I can't. Now is not the right time. We have to keep this a secret, but then conversely, I know there will come a point where we have to tell everyone. I can't lose Felix now that I have him. I love him. Ass-hole, alpha male, billionaire or stepbrother, he's mine, and it want him to stay that way. I know he feels the same way too.

  As the Porsche tears along the highway, the trees blurring in my periphery like smudged oil at the edge of a painting, I slide my hand across his thigh, searching for a part of him to squeeze.

  "You know, when mom and dad get back," Felix says. "We might have to convince them to let us move into our own flat."

  "What do you think your dad would say if he knew?" I ask.

  Felix hears me, but he doesn't respond. Instead he wraps his arms around my shoulder and pulls me into him. I guess he doesn't want him to know.

  "You know why I like you?" he asks.

  "Why?" I say.

  "Because you never gave up on me. No matter how I treated you, no matter what I said to you, you never changed the way you felt about me."

  "You're an ass-hole", I say. "That hasn't changed. Just because I love you, doesn't mean I don't think it. Let's see how you get on from now on."

  Felix laughs. He's about to say something, but I think he changes his mind.

  "It would have been easier if I didn't", I say, "but I guess we can't change who we love. Right, stepbrother?"

  "Don't call me that sis, it sounds weird."

  As we head for home, our home, laughing together and wrapped in each others arms, I have a warm feeling of satisfaction that I know will never leave me.

  ###

  About Stephanie Brother

  Stephanie Brother writes scintillating stories with step-siblings as their main romantic focus. She's always been curious about the forbidden, and this is her way of exploring such complex relationships that threaten to keep her couples apart. As she writes her way to her dream job, Ms. Brother hopes that her readers will enjoy the full emotional and romantic experience as much as she's enjoyed writing them.

  Giving My Billionaire Stepbrother A Baby

  Sash lets the music wash through her. She can feel it humming through the wooden floorboards, reverberating through her body in pulses, up through her legs, past her pussy, onwards, into her tits. She touches them now, squeezing at the base, working the skin forwards to the nipple, capping it off with a little pinch. Both hands cupping, squeezing, teasing. Dante leans forward on the edge of his chair, desperate not to miss a single beat. She turns, legs spread and ass up, caressing the floor, pulling it towards her in a silky beat, letting him see the form of her body.

  She's always been flexible, always been in shape. Upright again now, gently rocking her hips from side to side, she lifts her T-shirt. In one perfect, unbroken movement that has Dante salivating with anticipation, she has it spinning momentarily around her fingers, before it's static again, curled up like a sleeping cat in the corner of the booth.

  Performing has always made her happy. Horny too. She remembers the classes, where she'd get a thrill from knowing people were watching her swing on the pole, watching the way her body was moving in shapes they could only dream about making themselves. She was the best in her class, and could have made a career out of it if she wanted. Perhaps now, she'll have to.

  "What do you like?" Sash asks the disconnected voice in the other room, her hands all the time working her beautiful body, streaming over her curves like hot rain would cling to a mountainside, more confident than ever now.

  "Show me", Dante says, his voice disguised.

  "What do you want to see?" Sash asks, playing with him, her hands pushing her hot pants down to reveal her hip bone. A suggestion of what might follow. Dante can't help but get up now. Stood, his erection is clear. He puts one hand on the glass, desperate to touch his semi-naked stepsister. He's missed this more than he realized.

  "Everything", Dante says. "Show me everything."

  Sash pivots. She dances towards the mirror, enjoying the sight of herself now, not embarrassed by it. She runs her hands over her hips and belly towards her bra. When he dared her to do this first of all, she nearly slapped him. She went bright red with embarrassment and said she'd only do it if he did it too, her heart beating so fast she thought it would never slow down. Dante sits again, eager to watch her perform from the comfort of his chair. He remembers the anticipation he felt then, that first moment he was about to see her naked. Now that feelings is increased ten fold, for the time that has passed and the fact that she doesn't know he is watching. Then she was so nervous her hands were shaking. Now she's like a different woman, desperate to please. Desperate to earn her money.

  Sash's fingers work their way to the clasp at the front of her bra. A second later, like her T-shirt was only moments before, it's dangling off the end of her outstretched finger. She spins it once, and then again for good measure, before she straightens her finger and lets it fly off, pinging against the glass and landing in the shadows to the side. As she bends forward, one leg kinked and positioned behind the other, to blow a kiss at her invisible admirer, Dante can hardly contain himself.

  Sash does a little turn, her posture controlled, to show him the peaks of perfection she knows he'll have been desperate to see since she began. He goes to the glass once again to see her as closely as possible, too excited to remain in one position for too long. Her tits are perfect. The nipples pink and perky, quick to spring erect as Sash works her hands over them. She plays with herself in the way she likes, and not the way she thinks he will, one hand straying often to investigate the lower part of her body before he commands her to send it there, pushing its way down her belly and disappearing underneath the elasticated fabric of her hot pants, desperate to play with what she's hiding beneath.

  She's horny now, and it shows. Dante can't hear her breathing peak, but he can see the flushes darkening her neck, the movements she makes across her compact frame, that speak of stolen moments years ago and memories he's long since forgotten. If anything, he wants to join her in the
booth. He wants to break down the glass and reveal himself, but he knows he can't just yet. For now, his role is as an observer, for now, he wants to see his stepsister stripped bare, her heart and soul, and her love and desire on a silver platter, freshly served for him.

  Sash teases her hot pants, pulling them down not quite far enough, before righting them again, moving her hands away completely, and starting the circuit again. She goes back to the pole, mounts it, twists her frame into a series of complex moves and then pushes herself back out onto the floor, ready to reveal herself completely.

  First her hand goes inside them, between her legs, almost inside her. She's wetter than she thought she would be, sensitive too. Her clit is swollen and gorgeous to touch. As she works her fingers around it, she feels a buzz climb through her, and peter out across her skin. For the first time, she realizes she wants to come. She realizes she wants someone to watch her do it.

  "Are you ready?" she asks.

  "Show me", Dante repeats. "Slowly."

 

 

 


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