He reaches up and cups my breast, flicking the nipple into a hard peak. As he rolls it between his thumb and finger, sending a jolt of electricity to my pussy, he laughs in my ear. I love his laugh and the way it makes me feel so worthless and humiliated. His breath is hot on my neck; intimidating. I want to beg him to fuck me hard, to stick his big dick inside me as deep as he can get it. I want him to knock the breath from my lips and the sense from my head. All that matters is the ache in my pussy that can only be eased with his help.
“What are you going to do to stop me?” His whisper in my ear sends a shiver through me because, even if I really did want to stop him, there would be no fighting him off. Officer Carlisle is a mountain of a man; brute strength and pure force combined.
The head of his cock feels so big at my entrance. He cants his hips, nudging and nudging, and my pussy gets wetter and greedier with every move. Oh, I want him to push harder, to drive it into me, to split me open just like he promised. He grips my hips harder, fingers digging into my soft flesh, and thrusts until his cock breaches the tight entrance of my cunt and he slides right in deep. It feels so amazing, like cool lemonade on a hot summer’s day and a million other amazing clichés I could think of. I moan, in my fantasy and in reality too, as my hand slips into my silk pajama bottoms and the tip of my finger finds my clit. I rub in slow circles as I imagine the length of him filling me and owning me. It feels so good I can’t stop.
With one hand still groping my breast, fantasy Officer Carlisle jerks his hips up as he pumps hard, my pussy gripping him tight.
The force of his thrusts push me into the car and it rocks slightly as Officer Carlisle fucks me. The metal is cool against my skin, soothing, keeping me cool enough to enjoy the heat of the sex. He keeps thrusting, my protests completely gone from my mind now. How could I have denied him this, denied myself this?
He grunts behind me as his hands find my waist to hold me in place while he thrusts.
“You like that, Allyson? You like it when I fuck you like this. You want me to fuck you harder?”
I mumble something noncommittal and rest my head on the car. It’s fantasy so I don’t even care that we’re on the side of the road and can be seen by anyone driving by. If I’m honest, the idea that someone might be watching just makes me hotter. I lean over even more so he can go deeper. I’m not supposed to be liking it but I feel so wet on the insides of my thighs. My body is betraying me and Officer Carlisle can tell. It’s as if he can read all my dirty thoughts.
“You want me to fuck you faster?” He reaches up to squeeze my breast again sending another jolt of awareness to my pussy.
His hands return to my waist, guiding me along his dick in a rhythm that drives me crazy. It keeps me hovering close to the edge of orgasm, but not quite pushing me over the edge. I feel it simmering just below the surface and I whimper and moan, taking all the pleasure I can from his thrusts.
He pounds into me harder until I feel my orgasm rising. My clit pulses. My pussy throbs. After all the protests he’s going to make me come and I can’t even feel bad about it. He slips a hand between my legs, spreading my lips roughly and exposing my swollen and vulnerable clit. I imagine him pinching it hard and I do it to myself, bucking my hips with the sensation. I slip a finger inside to coat it, and imagine the rough tip of my naughty cop’s finger rubbing roughly against the most sensitive part of my body. Oh, it feels so damn good I can hardly stand it.
All pretense is gone now because I’m so desperate for release. I rock back into him and he pumps harder and faster, cock hammering and finger rubbing, harder, harder, harder until his beautiful big cock sends an orgasm crashing through my body. The release is so sweet and seems to go on forever.
My pussy clenches around Officer Carlisle’s imaginary cock that is really three of my fingers. Spasms rack my body as I plunge them in and out to mimic what he was doing in my fantasy. I gasp in breaths of air, eyes closed to maintain the illusion I’ve created. My heart races so fast I feel woozy, drunk on pleasure and hormones.
It was the release I needed to keep my worries locked up in the box. I stretch out on the bed, content, sleepy. The image of Officer Carlisle’s face hovers in my mind. His full lips almost grinning, his eyes twinkling. What I would do to have his hands on my body again in reality, not just in my silly fantasies. But for now, the fantasies will have to do because I’m definitely not planning on breaking the law anytime soon, and I’ll probably never see him again.
Want to read more of this Erotic Thriller BEST SELLER?
US - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01EKP75ZI
UK - http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01EKP75ZI
CA - http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01EKP75ZI
AU - http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01EKP75ZI
Escape – A Stepbrother Romance Novella
The last person I expected to see in a police interview room was my estranged stepbrother…
Samantha
When I’m called to represent a mysterious client, I had no idea it would put me face to face with the one guy I could never forget.
But memories are like shadows, following you around no matter how hard you try to break free from their chains.
He was my best friend and my stepbrother, but now he’s a stranger.
Then our eyes meet across the interview room and I know I’m not going to be able to stay away, no matter how many times he warns me it’s too dangerous to become mixed up in his life.
Brandon
On the outside I’ve crafted an image to help me fit in: tattoos and muscles, street clothes and a scowl.
I’ve modeled myself on the man I despise most, the man who took me from a happy home only to neglect me as a kid and use me as an adult.
I’m stuck in a world I don’t want to be in because there’s nothing for me outside of this. But then Sammie walks back into my life and nothing feels the same.
She’s beautiful, and I know I shouldn’t want her that way but I do. Just one touch and I can’t get her out of my mind.
I want to escape but how can I when I know I’ve lived a life that’s put me beyond the point of return. Saving myself now would risk the only girl I ever loved.
Here’s an excerpt…
“They’re just pictures,” she says. “Family pictures.”
From her tone I know that she’s concerned about how I might react but I can’t tell her I don’t want to see. I have only one picture of my mom and me as a child, and none of Sammie and her dad. I open the packet and start to flick through. The more I look, the greater the burning sensation at the back of my throat worsens. We all look so damn happy and I can’t stand it. I can’t bear remembering all that contentment because it’s gone and it’s never coming back. The packet wobbles in my hand and I drop it onto the comforter and walk out of the room, needing time to steady my shaking hands. I stand at the window in the den looking over the city that has housed us both for years and kept us apart so well.
I hear Sammie’s bare feet padding on the hardwood but I don’t turn. I feel her hand rest lightly between my shoulders and all the love I feel for her seems to spill out of my heart and into my chest, pulled by that small touch of her palm against my t-shirt covered skin. I swallow and it’s so damn quiet in the room that it’s audible.
“Bran,” she says rubbing my back. “It’s okay.” When I don’t turn she places her other hand against my cheek and draws me until we are facing each other. I can’t hide anything from her. I never could. Sammie’s always been my best friend and my home. We stare at each other, her eyes so sad and filled with a yearning that I know is reflected in mine. It’s like the threads that had bound us together when we were kids are fusing back together. She licks her lip and the sight of her tongue makes my dick prickle. It’s a tiny reaction but it freaks me the fuck out. But then she’s got her hand around my neck and she’s pulling me towards her and we’re hugging and it feels so good, so perfectly right. She soothes me with her hand that rubs up and down my back and her words that
she whispers in my ear.
“It’s okay, Bran. You’re here now. We’re back together. Sammie and Bran Bran, best friends forever,” she says just like she used to. But it doesn’t feel like friendship when I’m distracted by her soft breasts pressed against my chest and the curve of her hip under my palm. When her lips graze my ear I think it’s an accident. She’s whispering close after all. But the soft feel of it, that little graze, makes me sigh and then she sighs too and I know it wasn’t an accident. “I love you, Bran,” she whispers, her mouth now so close to my neck I can feel the wetness of it against my skin.
The air feels alive with something. It’s our history swirling around us like a vortex that’s drawing me closer to her when I know I should be pulling away. Fuck. None of this was part of the plan but I can’t stop the way my hands want to feel the skin of her back and slip inside her blouse. Her hand grabs at my shoulder, molding the muscle there as if she needs something firm to keep her grounded. I can hear her breathing hitch as I stroke across the silkiness of her back. With my face pressed into her neck I can almost pretend this isn’t really happening. It feels like a dream, a fantasy that will be gone when I open my eyes. She’s like an angel visiting me in purgatory and her sweetness and strength just make me want more.
I know I shouldn’t.
I shouldn’t be here. I don’t belong in her perfect life.
I shouldn’t want her. She’s my stepsister and it’s wrong.
I shouldn’t. But I do and I can’t stop myself.
US. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B013D07QKA
UK. http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B013D07QKA
CA. http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B013D07QKA
AU. http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B013D07QKA
Also by Stephanie Brother
FIERCED: A Stepbrother Romance (Stepbrother Raider Book 1)
I hate him.
He’s a prick and an arrogant bastard.
Romeo? Rocco? Does he even know what his name is?
A massive tattooed biker with mud on his boots emerging from my father, the Ambassador’s office like he owns the joint. I had to confront him.
But when I question his motives, he pins me to the wall.
Since then I haven’t been able to get those enveloping powerful arms out of my every thought.
Part 1 of the stepbrother Raider Serial is 14,000 words with a pretty steep cliffy. Enjoy!
Get it here on Amazon –
US. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B012V8H7TA
UK. http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B012V8H7TA
Here’s an excerpt…
“Bossy aren’t you for such a little thing?” He lifts the pictures above his head and snaps them out of my reach each time I leap to retrieve them from his fingers, like a dog jumping on its hind legs for a snack. I have never felt so awkwardly gawky as I do around this guy.
“Give it back. Those are mine actually.” Fuck I sound like Ms Priss. The furthest thing from the hip artist chick I really wanna be.
“Whoa, Principessa does daddy know what subject matter you’re shooting in the name of art? Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Of course he knows you idiot. It’s art. He’s a model.” And a pretty hot one. Does this uncultured heathen think he can critique? Of course he does - he’s so cocky he knows it all.
“Nice work if you can get it I guess. Sitting around naked all day in the name of posing for cute angry women who hate men.”
I go to snatch the folder again from his hand as he flashes through, making ‘whoa’ and ‘Jeez’ type comments as the close-ups of Luca become more intimate. He flips it just out of my reach again with a roaring laugh.
“At least I have work I love to do,” I screech. “What have you done today aside from riding your bike through a sand pit?”
“Ooh, low blow Principessa. Don’t hurt me so bad. Does it show that I just rode my G/S across the Sahara?”
“Yeah, right. Is that the one close to Naples?”
What is with this guy? He’s the most in-your-face irritating guy I’ve ever met. Although my heart does that little skippy thing when he calls me cute. He thinks I’m cute. Is that a sexy Jennifer Lawrence kind of cute or Little Orphan Annie cute?
“And then we have some tourist shots in the plazas of Rome. Is this what they’re teaching you is art at the Accademia?”
He’s looking intently at a boring shot of an arched walkway, ruined by a couple of characters talking in the far vault. I can tell he thinks my photos are staid and boring. And before I have a chance to question how the hell he knows I’m attending the Accademia dell’ Arte, my foot has lifted from the marble floor and connected with his shin.
“Argh, feisty little she-wolf aren’t you?”
He laughs like a growling bear as his arms fold around me and I whip away from his hold so when he clasps me into the solid bows of muscle, my back is pressed hard into to his chest. His biceps bulge as they squeeze tight around my torso, pinning my arms where I’m struggling to lash out at him again. I know how the bulls in the ring feel, the rage, the hurt. The need to trample all over everything in their path. It’s so unfair.
Except his forearms are pressing into my peaks and making my nipples bulge equally hard into his firm flesh, begging for more direct attention. My filthy mind goes to his bulky hand and how it would be bliss if only his thick fingers would tug and roll the hard bullets in their brusque grip. The idea sends shards of hunger from my breasts straight to my clit.
The pulsations rolling through my core leave me struggling for breath.
Yeugh. A complete stranger and a prick to boot. I must be desperate to be fantasizing being taken by this pig right here in the hall of the embassy. With a flick of my heel behind, I kick his shin again which I know hurts me more than him.
“Don’t tickle me so hard, Principessa,” he growls into the back of my ear. His hot breath sparks the side of my neck and makes me shiver as he slams me against the wall face first, impeding our collision with his solid palm. “Now calm down there bucking bronco or I’m gonna have to tame you for real.”
“My father will kill you when I tell him about this.”
I feel like a total fool imagining that my little boot would even garnish a whimper from this solid bulk of testosterone. Maybe if I could turn around and get a shot with my knee right between his burly thighs. I twist my neck slightly and the connection of the sensitive tendons with his rough chin makes me tremble inside.
“Whatev, Principessa. I ain’t afraid of Pappy,” his burr of sandpaper tantalizes my skin. He squeezes me tighter in his solid grasp as I writhe, trying to wring my body around to face him. My breasts pouring over his iron limbs.
“You should be very afraid. He’s a powerful man. He’ll make you sorry.” I’m panting and gasping as though we’re in the full throes of passionate sex.
“Like I said, I ain’t shitting myself over your old man. You gonna calm down or am I gonna have to do something I might enjoy?” His words fall into my ear like a caress. His entire rock wall shield of chest is pressed into my back and his thick thigh is pressed into the crevasse between mine, cramming them apart.
It’s pointless to flail against his hold, I’m a flyweight to his super heavy and in truth I don’t want to separate from him yet. Every pore is making my skin shiver with the need to feel him compressed into me like this only from a different angle. The need to be crushed under him and feel him push into my prickling flesh is beyond endurance. My pussy is twanging at my core, demanding this tough tyrant’s invasion.
“Fuck, you’ve got more spitfire in you than World War fucking two. What in hell are you so angry about?” He barks against my quivering tendon.
“I hate you and it’s none of your fucking business.”
“Whatever it is you should use your rage for something creative before it eats you alive.”
“Yeah thanks for that sage advice but I already have a father.”
“Just saying, Principessa. ‘Cos you know, been there done it.”
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HUGE - A Stepbrother Romance Page 7
