Royal Stripper

by Sienna Valentine

  I worked my boxer briefs off and pressed my throbbing head against her tight little opening, lifting her by her ass so that I could penetrate her, working it deeper, taking it nice and slow. I closed my eyes, allowing those hazy memories to flow over me as my stepsister began to arch and moan. Iris squirmed as I slowly thrust my hard cock deeper and deeper, her hips bucking softly.

  She let out a soft, satisfied squeal as I finally slid all the way up to my thick base, letting myself enjoy the feeling of her tight pussy pulsing around my shaft. Sure, there had been women almost as tight as Iris, but none of them were nearly as satisfying. There was something about her that made everything feel more intense, made me feel more alive.

  “That feels so good,” she cooed, catching my gaze as she slid her middle and forefinger into her mouth, wetting them before she slid her hand down between her thighs. I watched as she started to tease on her clit just above my shaft, her hips still squirming around it, grinding slowly on my base. “Fuck, it’s so big!”

  I let out a moan, closing my eyes as I started to work myself in and out of her warmth, my hands gripping tight onto her hips. With each thrust I pulled her against me, plunging nice and deep into the soaking wet depths of her sex. She let out a cry of pleasure with each thrust, her eyes closed as she worked her aching clit.

  I loved the way she moved as I fucked her, her arm up above her head as her body stretched and writhed in ecstasy. Her back arched as her fingers continued to play between her legs, and she moaned with every hard thrust I made inside of her, filling her hot snatch over and over as our hips ground against one another’s.

  “Fuck!” she cried, grabbing at her soft, bouncing breasts with her free hand, her thumb worrying her pretty little pink nipples. Her cheeks began to flush with color, and soon I knew she’d be screaming my name. “Holy shit, Slade!”

  “That’s it, Iris,” I said, encouraging her as I continued to pound my thick cock nice and deep inside of her. “That’s the way you like it, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, her eyes shut tight as a pulse of pleasure coursed through her body, making her convulse. “Nobody’s ever measured up, Slade. Nobody’s ever made me feel the way you do.”

  I groaned, my balls beginning to tighten as my base pulsed. I knew it wouldn’t be long until I came, especially if she kept talking like that. I remembered the first time I’d came inside of her sweet little cunt all those years ago, how nervous the idea had made her. But before long, I had her begging for it, aching to feel it dripping out of her after I’d pulled out.

  “Oh, fuck!” Iris cried out again, arching her back again as I drove myself even harder inside of her. “Don’t stop!”

  I closed my eyes, snarling as I felt a sense of satisfaction washing over me. After all those years of regretfully dreaming of this exact moment, of having myself buried deep inside of my stepsister, it was finally here. I finally had Iris again, all to myself, just the way I’d secretly yearned for, but never thought I’d have. Her pussy felt so good around me, the way her wet lips slid so perfectly around my cock made it so much harder to hold back the tide of cum that had been building up since I’d first laid eyes on her after seven long years.

  “Iris,” I grunted, my voice husky with lust, “I’m so fucking close.”

  She let out a moan, still eagerly flicking and rubbing her clit. Her mouth silently begged “please” over and over, her eyes wild with desire as her breasts heaved with every labored breath. It was more than I could take. There was no holding back.

  “Fuck!” I hissed, closing my eyes as I drove myself hard and deep inside of her, a sudden pulse radiating through me as my thick, hot load gushed deep inside of her. I never expected it to feel as good as it did, as though nothing compared to the pure ecstasy of my stepsister’s velvety folds wrapped around my thrumming shaft. I felt a sense of pure oblivion washing over me, radiating out from my crotch and all the way out to my fingers and toes.

  “God! Yes!” Iris moaned as I continued my rough thrusts deep inside of her. I could tell that she was about to climax right on my still-gushing cock. Just the thought of it seemed to heighten my own orgasm, and I watched as she held her breath, her entire body tightening at once before exploding in a keening wail. “Fuck!”

  Iris writhed, her limbs flailing beyond her control. Her abs flexed and tightened as she sat almost bolt upright, reaching out with her free hand to pull me into a passionate, steamy kiss.

  I closed my eyes, moaning against her mouth as the two of us rode out our orgasms together, our hips still grinding and bucking until we both settled against the wall, our eyes locked as we fought to catch our breath.

  After the rush had worn away, all that was left was silence.

  Iris and I sat beside one another in bed, she with the covers drawn up over her chest and held tight there, protecting her nakedness from my eyes. I could have stood if she’d yelled at me or if she’d even just told me to leave, but the silence between us was probably worse than anything she could have said.

  I did it again, I thought. I’m letting her get too close.

  I knew what would happen if I let this continue, knew where it would turn. In the end, after everything was said and done, there was really no future for Iris and me—only the long, torturous struggle of being one another’s biggest regret. I couldn’t let that happen again, not after all this time. I knew that if I stayed, if I tried to make her care for me again, it would only end in irrevocable disaster.

  “I should go,” I said, my voice soft as I glanced toward her to see her face turned away from me. Shame radiated off of her, regret plain in her shining, watery eyes. This wasn’t what she had really wanted, not how she’d envisioned it. Deep down, I knew exactly what she thought—that this had all been one, big mistake.

  Again. We made this mistake again. And it’s all my fucking fault.

  “What?” Iris turned to look at me, swallowing thickly. “Slade, I thought—”

  “It was fun, Iris,” I said, trying my best to sound as aloof as possible. I knew how to break a woman’s heart, even better than I had seven years ago. If I didn’t do it now, then there’d only be more heartache later. “But I think it’s time I left.”

  “You can’t just leave!” she said, confusion clouding her cerulean eyes. “I don’t understand. We just—”

  “We fucked, Iris,” I said, giving a practiced chuckle. “There’s nothing really to talk about. We had a good time, and now it’s time to part ways. I can get myself a room somewhere.”

  I saw the hurt on her face wash over her like an ocean wave. Her eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip began to tremble. I knew that it had to happen, to save her from what I’d do to her if this kept up. I needed to protect her—from me.

  “This isn’t fair,” she protested as I stood up and started to make for the living room to collect my clothes. Of course it wasn’t fair, but I had to put her at a distance if I ever wanted to be able to live with myself again. If she got attached to me one more time, I didn’t think either of us could take it. “How are you just going to do this to me and then leave?”

  “I’ve done it before,” I reminded her with a cold shrug as I picked up my pants. “What made you think that this was anything more than an excuse to get laid, Iris? I mean, did you really expect this to become something?”

  I turned around, intent on driving the argument home with another cutting remark, but instead I felt the hard sting of Iris’s hand on my cheek. I was stunned, not just from the force of her blow, but from the utter shock that she would actually hit me—not that I didn’t deserve it.

  “You’re never going to change, are you?” she asked, though I knew better than to answer. She was shaking, staring at me with such betrayal and hate—the kind I hadn’t seen since that day at the pool house. I hated to see her like this, hated what I’d done to her with only a day’s worth of time. I felt like a monster, some horrible animal who only had the ability to wreck everything around it.

&n
bsp; “I trusted you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her face burning red as her anger began to boil inside of her. “I trusted you to help me get our brother home.”

  “Well, that was poor judgment on your part,” I said, gently touching the cheek she’d assaulted. “You really ought to have known better, Iris. I’m not the guy who sticks around.”

  “No,” she said, glaring up at me, “you’re just the piece of shit who fucks his own stepsister and runs crying like a child when his daddy gets mad. Go. I’m not going to let you hurt me the way you did before. I don’t want to see you in my apartment again.”

  “Works for me,” I said, shrugging as I put on my jeans and my shirt and grabbed the keys to my rental. “There aren’t any shortage of rooms at the motel.”

  “Good. Hopefully that’s the only place that’s stupid enough to let you sleep in their beds,” she said, throwing my belt at me as I left through her front door. I heard it slam just behind me before I could even turn around. I heaved a sigh before slowly walking down to my car.

  This is for the best, I told myself. She’s better off getting hurt a little now rather than having her heart really broken later.

  But the more I told myself that it was best to just cut and run, the less I wanted it to be true. Time and experience had shown me otherwise—all I was good for was hurting others. Maybe it was time I just cut all of my losses and headed home. I’d already ruined whatever chance I had of doing what I came there for; Kellan was adamant about hating me, hating our family. I’d never reach him. I’d failed, just like I failed Iris when I’d abandoned her, when I’d betrayed her trust.

  It was time to leave.

  Chapter 9

  Iris

  How the hell did this keep happening to me? Seven years ago, I could understand it. I’d been naïve. A virgin. A girl who’d concocted a whole Romeo & Juliet scenario around a boy she was forbidden to love. Seven years ago, I hadn’t known any better.

  But now, today? That was a much different story. I’d known, in my heart of hearts, who Slade Jarvis was. What he was. But I’d let my guard down anyway, all because I’d wanted to believe. Believe that he’d changed, or that what happened back then was a misunderstanding. Believe that he hadn’t just used and abused me, and that all the things we’d done—the things that I had done—had meant something more than a way for Slade to get his rocks off. I thought I had seen something in his eyes. Heard something in his voice when he was drunk and felt like he was being accused of raping me.

  I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. And so fucking stupid, too. He was probably just worried about getting in trouble.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid…

  It had seemed so enticing at the time, though—especially after I’d spent so much time feeling lonely after he’d gone, how I’d envisioned him spending the night with some bar slut just before he came home. He’d looked so sexy with that cut on his lip, so rugged. And I was worried about my brother. I needed the comfort. And then he seemed so vulnerable. That should have been my first clue. Slade Jarvis, vulnerable? Right. But that’s what I wanted to see.

  Which Slade probably knew. He always knew. He was like a bloodhound that way, searching for vulnerable, unsuspecting girls to put his dick into. He’s a master at figuring out the exact right thing to do or say that will entice a girl into spreading her legs.

  Dear God, I was my stepbrother’s fuck-toy, his personal, living, breathing Real Doll. I’d invited trouble into my bed because… why? Because I haven’t been fucked in a year? Because Slade knew just what to do to turn me on? How the hell had I let that blind me? Now he was gone—he’d gotten his and left me all alone to deal with the consequences.

  Again.

  It could’ve been worse, I reminded myself as I chucked a TV dinner into the microwave and set it for three minutes. At least this time, your family doesn’t know what a stupid whore you are.

  That was something, I guessed, but it wasn’t exactly making me feel better about myself, and especially not when I heard my phone ring and realized my stepfather was calling me.

  For a moment, irrational terror gripped me. Shit. How did he know?

  He couldn’t have. Could he? It wasn’t like Slade would just run off and tell him. Then again, Slade had said some pretty shitty things not too long ago. What if this was round two of him fucking with me, ruining my life, my reputation amongst our family?

  Thankfully, I was just being paranoid, because when I picked up, he cut me off with news before I could even say “hello.”

  “Kellan called.”

  I blinked, hard, and my heart fluttered with hope. Shakily sitting down at my kitchen table, I whispered, “Really? He did? Oh, Dad, that’s such great news—”

  “Not really,” he gruffed and immediately that sinking feeling washed over me again.

  “What’s wrong? What happened? Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine, Iris. Well, as ‘fine’ as a drug addict can be, I suppose.” Dad sighed. I could envision him running his hand through his thinning hair, graying at the temples after all he’d been through with the three of us. First me and Slade, fucking like rabbits who also happened to be related to each other, and then Kellan, running off with his junkie friends to God knows where to do God knows what. I felt so guilty sometimes—at least two thirds of his problems had to do with my side of the family.

  “He didn’t say much about how he was doing, honestly,” Dad continued. “You know him—he wouldn’t give anything away. Not until he wants to be found. Instead, he called to warn me, and he wanted me to pass the message on to you. He wanted you to know that your stepbrother was in town.”

  I bit my lip. What was I supposed to say to that? I guessed that depended on what Kellan had told him, which of course, I had no way of knowing. Fuck. I hated lying. I hated playing games centered around who knew what. I’d had my fill of that shit over the past seven years. I put my face in my hand and rubbed the bridge of my nose.

  “He is?” was all I could think of to say.

  “Apparently,” my stepfather answered, “Kellan saw him the other day, and the two of them got into it. I wanted to be sure you knew. After what he did to you, and in our house, no less, I wouldn’t be surprised if he came calling. My son, unfortunately, knows no shame. Kellan wanted me to warn you, wanted to make sure you locked your doors and kept safe.” He paused, as though he didn’t even want to consider the possibility, then asked, “You didn’t tell Slade to come here, did you? After the argument we had about it the other day…”

  “Why would you think that?” I said quickly, but nearly choked on the words. My mouth was dry. I stood up and fumbled in my cabinets for a glass. “I mean, I don’t even know his number…”

  “Of course. You wouldn’t do that,” my stepfather murmured as I filled it up from the tap. “You’re a victim in all this. You wouldn’t put yourself at risk, after what that bastard did to you.”

  “Dad…” I took a sip of water before starting again. “We’ve been over this, haven’t we? I know you don’t like to talk about it, but what happened back then in that pool house was…”

  “Monstrous,” my stepfather interjected. “I knew my son had his issues, Iris, but I swear, I never imagined he’d take advantage of you.”

  But he did, I added inwardly. Twice, now. Maybe my stepfather was right. Maybe Slade was some kind of monster.

  No, that wasn’t fair. And it reminded me of what Kellan had said to Slade right before he’d punched him in the mouth.

  “Is that why Kellan called you, Dad?” I asked him, dreading his response. When he didn’t give me one, I pressed him. “I mean, why else would he be warning you Slade was here? Why else would he want you to make sure I knew?”

  “Kellan knows the truth,” he finally replied. “He knows that bastard forced himself on you.”

  I felt all the blood drain from my face. Slade was telling the truth about that part, at least. Forced himself on me? “Dad, that’s not even…” But I knew it was
no use arguing that point. He’d never believe his sweet, innocent stepdaughter had asked for it—literally begged for his son’s cock. Instead, I asked, “Why would you tell Kellan that? Why, when you worked so hard to keep it a secret? When neither of us ever wanted him to know?”

  “He was asking questions, Iris,” my stepfather said, his voice sounded wearier by the minute. “He was angry with me for kicking Slade out, and he never stopped blaming me. By the time he was sixteen, Kellan had gotten it into his head that I hated him, and that the only reason I’d sent Slade away was to make him miserable. He said I was jealous of Slade, of their relationship. That Slade was smarter than I was, and I felt weak in comparison. I took his outbursts for a while, shielded your mother from them, but finally, I had to tell him the truth. He needed to know that the man he looked up to was a selfish bastard who nearly tore our family apart on a sadistic whim. He needed to get over his… fixation with your stepbrother.”