“Yeah?”
I close my eyes and shake my head. “Someone pinch me, I think I’m dreaming.”
He snickers. “You’re awake. Open your eyes.”
I do.
The hottest man on the planet stands in my bedroom.
The house is empty.
That only means one thing.
Chapter 11
“Oh my god,” I gasp. “Oh my god, Dante…” I moan low as he ravages me with his skillful tongue.
I lay on my bed, naked. Well, my shirt is still on and my unhooked bra swims around my arms somewhere under the shirt. Dante unhooked it expertly at some point without my noticing. Not that I’m thinking about any of that now. Because Dante’s entire face is attacking my drenched folds and it is mesmerizing.
“Ohhhh…” I moan again.
I’ve never been this naked in my room with Luke or anybody else. It feels entirely naughty. Does it heighten things knowing Dante is my stepbrother? Of course it does. So what if our siblinghood is just on paper? It’s still deliciously dangerous. I don’t have a lock on my bedroom door. Our parents could walk in at any moment, but neither of us are thinking about the consequences.
My fingers are knotted in his thick blond hair. My heels rest on his naked shoulders and I start bucking against his face as a powerful orgasm wracks my body. Every muscle clenches sweetly as heat burns through me. I am soaking wet as his fingers probe deep inside me, tickling what must be my G-spot, which I never knew I had until now. Yeah, there is no way Dante is a virgin. He’s a veteran sexpert.
As I come down from the intense orgasm, he nips my clit with a final kiss and lifts his glistening face, grinning from ear to ear. “Was that good for you?” he asks.
“Oh my god,” my head falls against the edge of the bed, hanging backward because I’m lying crosswise. I think this is the reason my dad never let me get a queen sized bed. He wanted to prevent exactly this kind of thing. I guess his plan didn’t work. “That was beyond good,” I huff, breathing hard, my rib cage heaving as I try to recover.
The heel of his hand presses against my wetness and he circles it slowly, sending electric puffs into my body. Every time he bumps my clit, it sings. I think I’m going to come again. I close my eyes and lift my head up. With it hanging over the side of the bed, so much blood is rushing to it, I’ll pass out if I don’t. He’s licking my clit again, sending shivers up my tummy. It feels so painfully good, my entire torso clenches like I’m doing a sit up. I put my elbows behind me and prop myself up, almost like I’m trying to get away because the intensity of his tongue has suddenly become too much. But he doesn’t stop for a second. His arms wrap forcefully around my thighs and he pulls me back to his face. His mouth won’t stop. This feels too good. Way too good. Suddenly the only thing I want is to find out how good it can feel. Because once again, Dante has led me to a whole new world of sex way beyond anything I thought existed. This is too good to be true.
And I want more.
I hiss and seethe with restrained screams, biting my lower lip. “Mmmm!” I moan. I can’t let it out because we’re in my house. I have to keep it a secret. Somehow, holding it all in heightens the intensity. Every inch of my skin sizzles with pleasure. Another orgasm is coming. It starts with my toes, which curl. My knees start to shake. My thighs vibrate. The spray of sensation tickles up to my core, where it spirals out wider and wider, swimming through my abdomen, spinning across my breasts, singing in my nipples, then climbing right up my throat.
I’m going to do it.
I’m going to scream.
I bite my lip. I can’t scream. I shouldn’t scream. But if I don’t let it out, this orgasm is going to tear me apart when it finally explodes.
I have to scream.
Some corner of my mind reminds me to check the time. The alarm clock beside my bed says 4:30pm. My dad is never home this early. Catarina probably won’t be home for awhile either. They’ll never hear me if I scream. But I can’t. Not in the house. Their bedroom is just down the hall. So what if they aren’t here? It’s the idea of them that I can’t escape. But I have to scream. I have to!
Dante’s mouth eats me alive. His fingers thrust inside me forcefully. He’s fucking me like crazy.
My orgasm is coming.
I’m going to die.
I have to scream.
But I can’t.
The pleasure is so strong, it is literally going to kill me.
“Dan—” I heave. “Dan…” Hold it in. Don’t scream. I can’t. I can’t! “Dan!”
He won’t stop.
There’s nothing I can do.
“DANTE!!”
He growls and grunts against my feminine flesh, devouring me, tearing my body apart, shredding it with wicked pleasure.
“DANTE!!” I cry out.
One of his hands is squeezing my ass as I come all over his face. His fingers dig into my flesh like he’s tearing me apart.
“DAAAAANTE!!”
A restrained roar cracks from his throat, like he’s enraged that he’s not inside me. He should be inside me. His manhood should be spasming and fountaining his seed into me right now. It hurts my heart that he is not inside me. I almost feel guilty that he’s not enjoying any of this. But the heat haze of my orgasm wipes that thought away as I float through pink clouds of ecstasy. All my strength is gone and I slump against the bed, my arms dangling over the side, my head hanging upside down.
A red haze of blood rushes to my brain once again. I’m going to pass out, but I don’t seem to care enough to stop it. I’m floating somewhere else. If Dante wasn’t holding onto me, I would slide off the bed and smack my head on the carpet. Luckily, he pulls me back onto the mattress. He lies down next to me. His shirt is off but his jeans are still on.
My body continues to heave, trying to recalibrate, trying to gulp oxygen like I haven’t breathed in days. “Dante…” Huff. “That…” Huff. “Was…” Huff, huff, huff.
He chuckles. “I know.”
“Cocky…” Huff. “Bastard…” Sigh. I smile, spent and satisfied.
He kisses my cheek and I turn to him, our mouths meeting, our tongues kissing and twirling like rose petals floating on the wind: dancing, spinning, swirling. The spiral of my orgasm echoes up my spine and through my mouth. I try to breathe my pleasure into him. I reach down with a lazy arm and squeeze his hardness through his jeans.
“Mmmm,” he purrs.
I slide my fingers across it, but it’s difficult to do much with the denim in the way.
“Here, let me,” I whisper languidly.
“You sound like you need a nap,” he chuckles.
“No,” I moan. “I need to touch you.”
“Aren’t our parents going to be home soon?”
“Do you have to remind me?” I groan. Not wanting to think about it, I continue to stroke him through his jeans.
“Sorry. Forget I said anything,” he chuckles, shifting his hips so I have better access.
I stroke softly for awhile, struggling to stay awake. He wasn’t kidding. I could sleep for a week. But I try hard to stay awake, because he’s raging hard, pulsing under my fingers, ready to burn a hole in his pants with his hot rod of iron. He deserves to have an orgasm too. “I want to make you come,” I whisper so softly I can barely hear myself.
“What?”
At the moment, I’m paralyzed with anxiety and can’t speak any further.
See, when I was with Luke, the male orgasm was always his department. What can I say? I tried giving him a blowjob one time, but it was a disaster. I didn’t know what I was doing. Luke actually asked me to stop after a few minutes. He was very apologetic, but he said I was hurting him. I wasn’t even using my teeth! That didn’t matter. Anyway, I felt totally stupid and he never asked me for another blowy after that. I sure wasn’t going to press the issue. It was embarrassing. After that botched blowjob, I became super insecure about my bedroom skills. The only solution I could think of was to graduate to actual sex. I knew I c
ouldn’t possibly screw that up (no pun intended). We found a routine that worked. Mostly for him. The sex was okay but never great. Luke loved doing it. Me? Not so much. The important thing was that I became one of the girls at school who had a sex life. Not that I gossiped about it or went into detail. I didn’t want the truth of my sexual ineptitude coming out. So, when people like Kayla or Nicole brought up sex, and inevitably asked if Luke and I did it, all I ever said was yes and left it at that.
With Dante, I feel like it’s time for a change. I clear my throat. “I want to make you come.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Dante chuckles quietly. Other than that, he doesn’t do anything.
I guess I’m supposed to take the reins? I reach over and undo his belt. That part is easy. I fumble with buttons and the zipper next. I’m even brave enough to reach down and grab him. Wow. His cock is huge. Is it supposed to fit inside of me at some point? I’ll worry about that later. Right now, I have bigger fish to fry. So to speak. I grab his velvety shaft and pump it slowly.
“Mmmm,” he moans.
That’s a start. I keep at it. The flap of his fly keeps getting in the way. “Can we, um, push your pants down or something?”
“Sure.” He arches his back on the bed and pushes them down to his knees, causing his cock to flip up before slapping back down against his thigh.
I almost shout, “Timber!” but don’t because now his rod is all out in the open and I’m overcome by giddiness. Dante Lord is all out and about in my bedroom! My very own male supermodel, naked! In my bed! Well, mostly naked. His jeans are around his knees. But close enough. I suppress a girlish giggle.
“What?” he chuckles.
“Nothing,” I grin. I nuzzle him and kiss his cheek, working the shaft up and down. Despite my failure as a blowjob operator, I did give Luke a few successful hand jobs in the beginning. I remember the first time he came after literally like five pumps. I barely had to do anything. After that first time, before we started having sex, I could make him come in thirty seconds or less with my hand. Probably because we’d make out for like an hour before and he’d be totally worked up. With Dante, that’s not the case. Obvi. He seems like he’s going to last all day despite all the fooling around we’ve done since Luke left the house.
I continue to stroke Dante’s cock, but it’s not working. Why is he taking so long? Is he getting bored? He’s still hard, but he’s not moaning or anything. Overcome by insecurity, I stop. “Am I doing this wrong?” I sigh, frustrated.
“No. I was enjoying that.”
“Yeah, but you’re not like, I don’t know, getting super into it.”
“There’s no rules about how things are supposed to work in the bedroom, Skye. I’m not keeping score.”
I guess I am. I’m too embarrassed to say it. “I want to make you feel like you make me feel. Maybe we should just have sex?” Guys always want sex.
“We could do that. Or you could give me a hand job. You were doing fine, Skye.”
“I don’t want to be fine,” I pout. “I want to be hooker fabulous, I want to be a hand job expert. I want you to go crazy like I did.”
“Relax, Cielo.”
I recognize the Spanish word for sky instantly. “Did you just call me Cielo?”
“Yeah.” The sound of his voice is a warm blanket of affection that settles over me.
Wow, I really like the idea of him calling me Cielo.
“Should I not call you that?” he asks.
“No! I luh—I mean it’s great.” Whoops, don’t want to go using the L-word, even in regular conversation. Way too soon. “Maybe I should call you Fuego or maybe Tierra.”
“Either works.”
“I forgot, you know Spanish, don’t you?”
“Yup.”
“That’s awesome. You know I take Spanish, right?”
“Yeah. Catarina told me.”
“Awesome.” Suddenly, I realize I’m completely relaxed chatting with Dante like this. Sure, I’m still holding his hard-on, but I’m not worried about it anymore. I resume stroking him. “So which is it, Fuego or Tierra? Flame or Earth?”
“You could use both and call me Tierra del Fuego if you want,” he chuckles.
“That’s a bit much,” I giggle. “But I can’t decide. You’re definitely hot, which is why I went with Fuego, but you’re also so grounded, which is why I thought of Tierra.”
“Use either. I love both.”
Whoa. He said love. He said it! I didn’t!
“Easy does it,” he blurts.
I just squeezed his dick really hard when I was thinking about him using the L-word. Whoops! Now I’m blushing. “Sorry,” I mutter.
“If you want,” he says gently, “I can give you some ideas about how to work the machine.”
“Wait, what?”
“My stick shift? It seems like you’re stuck in first gear.”
My cheeks suddenly burn. I burry my face against his chest. “Sorry. I know, I suck at this,” I grumble.
“It’s okay,” he soothes. “I’ll give you a few tips, like what to do with the tip, and let you take it from there. How does that sound?”
Still hiding, I say, “What if you don’t like it?”
“Don’t worry, Cielo, I will like it.”
“But I don’t know what I’m doing!” I’m getting more anxious by the second. “It was so easy with Luke! He came in like two seconds!” Whoops. You’re not supposed to mention other guys in the bedroom. Total sex faux pas. “Sorry.” Can I crawl under the bed now? Wait until Dante leaves so I can cower in peace?
“It’s okay, Cielo. You’re nervous for no reason. Let me show you. Trust me. It’ll be fine.”
“What if I can’t make you come?”
He snorts laughter. “I’m not worried about that. Are you?”
“Yeah.”
“En serio?” Seriously?
“En serio.”
He hugs me with his powerful arm, “You’re getting worried over nothing, Cielo. I’ve had a raging hard on for you since I laid eyes on you at 7-Eleven that first day. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for more than a minute or two at a time.”
Remembering the moment, I look at him and grimace, “Me and Rox were total klutzes that day! I dropped my water bottle like a total dunce! I can’t believe you bothered to offer us those beers.”
“Are you insane? You don’t know this, but when you and Rox were stumbling all over yourselves in line, I was totally checking out your ass. I had to hold that six-pack of Heineken in front of my wood.”
“B.S.! You did not.”
“I totally did,” he grins, lifting himself up on one elbow.
I push up on one elbow too. “So you weren’t just giving away those leftover beers?”
He snorts, “Fuck no. It was an excuse to talk to you.”
“Perv,” I laugh. “Did you know I was 18?”
“I was praying you were 18.”
“Lucky you.”
“You said it.”
“Huh?”
“I’m the lucky one, Cielo.”
I try to let that sink in, but it’s hard to believe.
“Hey,” he asks, “did you want to take your shirt off?”
“Not really,” I mutter.
“Why not?”
“I have small breasts, duh.” I search his eyes, looking for any hint of an impending insult, but I see nothing but kindness. I sigh heavily and roll onto my stomach, hiding my breasts. “I’m not all big like Phoebe or Rox.” When Rox asked me the other day if Phoebe had big breasts, I lied and said I hadn’t noticed. Of course I had. And they were bigger than mine. Other women’s breasts are always bigger than mine. And I’m sure Dante is used to women with large breasts, be they natural or artificial. In either case, I don’t measure up. Isn’t it funny how in school, the best grade is an A, but in the breast department, you never want an A? You want the breasts that get bad grades? The Breast School dropouts? The ones that get Ds and Fs? Hilarious. Grot. A
nyway, I’m totally an honor student when it comes to breasts. Even my bikini tops have padding.
“You’re beautiful, Cielo. I saw you in your bikini. You have a killer body.”
I’m not about to mention the padded top.
“Let me tell you something about your beauty and how it affected me the day we met.”
“How?”
“When I was staring at your ass at 7-Eleven, I couldn’t get over how incredible it was.”
“Thanks,” I blush.
“But when I got a good look at your face? I was struck down.”
“What do you mean?”
“Cielo, I’ve been all over the world. I’ve seen a lot of pretty women in every country on the planet, I mean tons.”
I can’t help but feel jealous, but I keep my mouth shut.
“Inside the 7-Eleven, I knew you were cute. But I didn’t see your face. Not straight on. Just a bit from the side. But when I opened the doors and you spun around and I got a good look at you? My heart stopped.”
“It did?”
“No, that’s not quite right.”
“Oh.” Disappointment.
“Saying ‘your heart stopped’ is just a metaphor. Let me tell you what really happened. It was more like time stopped or something. Normally, I’m cocky as fuck, right?”
I snicker.
“I know it,” he chuckles. “I’m not afraid to talk to women. I always know what to say. It just comes easy for me. But when I walked outside and saw your face, my mind went blank. It was like my brain just shut down. Boom. I’ve never experienced anything like it. I almost didn’t know what to do. That’s why I pretended to ignore you while I walked to my motorcycle and started packing my beers in my backpack.”
“So all that business with the beers was because you were too nervous to talk to me?”
“Yeah.”
“No way! You’re such a liar!”
He shakes his head seriously, “If you saw what I saw, what I’m seeing right now—“ he skims his thumb across my cheek, “—you would’ve done it too.” His green eyes glimmer darkly in the dim light of my bedroom. The blinds are down, so the daylight seeping inside is muted. But his eyes sparkle nonetheless.
Stepbrother Obsessed Page 20
