Stepbrother X3
Page 7
He cocked a brow. “Ivy League, of course.”
I sniffed at him. “Leven’s Ladies’ College, if you must know.”
He blinked before a smirk bloomed across his face. “You go to a college for girls?”
I nodded, hackles rising.
“But why? You’re missing the best part of college surrounding yourself with chicks all day.” His eyes narrowed. “Or are you a lesbian? ‘Cause that would make a lot of sense.”
“Because my dad is gay?” I snarled. “Gay people always raise gay kids, right?”
With wide eyes, he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Take it down a notch, sis. I didn’t mean anything like that. I just meant the pussy possibilities at a girls’ college would be limitless if you’re into chicks.”
“I’m not.” Still angry, I continued glaring at him, but gradually let my body relax against the sofa again. “And I’m not your sister,” I muttered so quietly I wasn’t sure he heard me.
“Has your dad always been gay, or did he spring that surprise on you one morning?”
I detected the trace of bitterness in his tone and had a stirring of sympathy. My stepbrother—and I should really focus on reminding myself of our new familial connections any time my thoughts strayed somewhere naughtier—was obviously still angry about everything. Maybe I could try cutting him some slack. Once he got used to our dads together, perhaps the jerkiness would ease down, and we might actually be friends.
Yeah, probably not. Still, I tried to relay my sympathy when I replied. “He’s been out as long as I can remember.”
“Are you adopted?”
“Surrogate.”
“And you don’t miss having a mother?”
I hesitated, lifting a shoulder. “I guess sometimes. I know a bit about the surrogate who carried me. She still sends me a birthday card every year, but I don’t feel like she’s my mother in any sense.”
“Was she your mom?”
I shook my head. “No, she just carried me. I’ve seen the profile for the egg donor, but it’s what you’d expect—like reading random facts about a stranger.” I touched my hair. “I guess I got the blonde from her, since Dad has dark hair. It doesn’t make me feel any closer to her. She didn’t want a kid, and I guess I don’t want a mother. Not that kind anyway.”
“I’m close to my mom.” His eyes darkened a bit, and he looked brooding, which was dangerously sexy. “I guess a lot closer lately.”
He didn’t have to explain. The mood was rapidly becoming morose, and I did my best to change the subject. “If you’re looking for things to do, there’s a mall on the pier not too far from here. They have a huge theater with fifty screens. I don’t know what you’re into, but it’s a big city, so I’m sure you can find anything you want here.”
“I don’t think I’ll have to go far to find what I want.”
His gaze centered on my lips, and his pupils dilated with I moistened them with my tongue. The sensual undertone in his voice made me squeeze my thighs together, and I was about two seconds from leaning forward to kiss my stepbrother.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
I shook my head, unable to explain I had wasted the best part of my teenage years pursuing academic perfection instead of having sex. I’d been an idiot. “Do you have a girlfriend?” My voice was husky, and I sounded like I had laryngitis.
Declan shook his head. He didn’t seem to notice or mind as he shifted sideways a bit, putting his arm across the back of the couch and lightly against my shoulders. “No boyfriend is good news.”
“It is?” I didn’t think my eyes could get any wider as his face moved closer to mine.
“It is. There’s no one to object to me doing this.”
I knew what he planned, and I did absolutely nothing to prevent it. At least I didn’t swerve in to meet him, so perhaps I could hold that as a hollow moral victory. In the end, it didn’t matter whether I engaged or held passive. His mouth was on mine a few seconds later.
I tensed at the first tentative brush of his lips against mine. I’d been kissed before—I wasn’t that pathetic—but the few boys preceding him had all swooped in and tried to devour my mouth. I guess it was to show how much they wanted me, but it always made me think of that zombie movie where the guy is kissing the girl as she turns into a zombie, and she bites off his tongue. So not sexy.
This was different. His lips explored mine, coaxing a response. I softened against his mouth, and his tongue slipped inside to stroke mine. I sighed and leaned closer, grasping handfuls of my dress to suppress the urge to touch him.
He did enough touching for both of us, cupping my face in one of his large hands. His thumbs and finger pads were calloused when they moved over my smooth face, reminding me he played guitar.
His other hand grasped my hip, gently urging me to turn more into his embrace. I wanted to, but somehow, I managed to summon the strength to pull back and sit up straighter. “We can’t do this,” I whispered.
He gave me an assessing gaze that seemed to probe my insides. “Why not, Lia?”
“We’re related.”
Declan scowled. “We aren’t related. Our dads getting married doesn’t make us fucking relatives, Lia. We’ve known each other a few hours. That’s longer than some of my relationships. Under other circumstances, we’d be fucking right now.”
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t do that, especially with my stepbrother.”
He gave me a cocky grin. “We’ll see, sis.” After tucking a stray strand behind my ear, he completely removed his hands from me. “I’ll have you underneath me in no time.”
“You’re already beneath me,” I said haughtily, making his mouth tighten. I hated I had chosen the easy path of disparaging him by illustrating our economic differences. “I’m sorry.” Damned manners again. “That was thoughtless, and I didn’t mean it.”
He shrugged. “Nah, it’s fine, Lia. I don’t mind being beneath you. Sometimes, I’m going to be on top too. Either way, I’m going to be inside you.”
I shook my head, but I knew there was a decided lack of resolve in my automatic response. His words had made me imagine all sorts of deliciously erotic acts that had heretofore remained in the realm of fantasy instead of reality. If he weren’t my new stepbrother, I probably would have jumped on him by now. Why did life have to be so complicated?
He leaned toward me again, this time brushing his cheek against mine before standing up. “Good night, Lia.”
I stood up and walked to the door without a parting. Actually, I kind of ran the best I could in heels. I had just put my hand on the doorknob when he spoke again.
“Don’t go back to your room and touch yourself while thinking of me, babe.”
Mouth open, I couldn’t resist staring at him as the shock of his words sank in.
“All your orgasms belong to me from now on, and I want to see each one.” His eyes narrowed. “I’ll know if you do.”
Too angry for words, I managed a strangled sound that I hoped conveyed some of my ire as I opened the door and slammed it behind me with a resounding thud. Still angry, I marched back to my room, kicked off my shoes, and pushed up my dress.
I laid on the bed and spread my thighs. How dare he tell me I couldn’t masturbate while thinking about him? Anger propelled the first few strokes of my fingers over my mound, but it wasn’t long before that emotion faded, and another swept through me. Desire. I ached for the infuriating bastard I barely knew and had only just met. Pushing aside the crotch of my panties, I massaged my clit in earnest.
As I touched myself, I relived the kiss and the way it had made my entire body feel hot and tingly. I imagined his large hands and rough fingertips on my breasts and tugged my own nipple through my dress and bra.
It didn’t take much imagination to picture him lying on his bed in a similar position, cock in hand as he stroked himself to completion while thinking about me. The idea that we were both masturbating to thoughts of the other doing so sent me into a powerful climax
that made me moan and clench my thighs around my hand. At that moment, I’d give anything for it to be his hand. Or, even better, his cock inside me instead of my own fingers.
As the bliss faded, sanity returned along with a hearty dose of shame. I jumped up from the bed and righted my dress, careful to avoid seeing my reflection in the mirror. I was a wanton slut, and I would have to be on my guard if I was forced to interact with Declan. With a large estate and myriad servants, at least it would be easy to avoid him, which was the safest strategy.
3
Declan
Fuck, she was a hot little thing. I knew as soon as I forbade her to masturbate without me around, she would run right back to the house and do just that. Despite her veneer of virginal sweetness, there was a stubborn layer under the surface, and it hadn’t taken me long to realize she would hate dictates.
That would give me a good excuse to punish her and escalate our little game. I didn’t have time for a drawn-out seduction. Our fathers would be back from their honeymoon in six days, and I had to have her totally in my thrall and bent to my will by that time, so I could enact the culmination of my plan. I’d have to push her buttons, test her boundaries, and override her natural caution without finesse.
That meant blunt seduction and using her desire against her. I was confident my plans were on track as I went to bed. I had the little princess already tied in knots and that much closer to being my plaything. I remained unaffected, as was required. She meant nothing to me and was simply a means to an end. I’d somehow summon the interest to fuck her, but she could be anyone.
My apathy did absolutely nothing to explain why I woke up with my cock in hand, having masturbated to completion in my sleep, with the whispered sound of her name still echoing around the room, uttered by my lips. Disgruntled and puzzled by the slip, I lay down again, reminding myself of all the reasons why I hated her father and soon returned to the proper frame of mind required to seduce and ruin a princess.
I fell back to sleep in no time, convinced it was an aberration. It had simply been too long since I’d gotten laid, with everything happening with Mom and planning revenge on Tom Ambrose. Any hot chick would have provoked the same response.
I fucking dreamed about her.
4
Lia
He ambushed me at the swimming pool. I had tiptoed out early in the day after peering at the guesthouse for signs of life. After watching like an obsessed stalker for almost an hour, I was convinced he was either asleep or had crept out early. Maybe he’d even left last night after our grope session, found some other woman to fuck, and was still in her bed.
I didn’t like that idea and refused to consider it. Assuming he likely slept late because he was a musician, I convinced myself it would be safe to go for a swim, as was my morning routine during warm weather. If I chose my smallest bikini, it was simply because it was the closest one to reach in the drawer. It had nothing to do with how the azure material molded and clung to my curves, while lifting my breasts to epic heights.
It wasn’t like I wanted to entice Declan. Stepbrother. He was my stepbrother, and I had to remember that. Yeah, I was just showing him what he couldn’t have. Or I would have been if I had deliberately picked that bikini, which I didn’t. It was a random grab.
The pool was heated, but still cool enough to provide a slight shock as I dove in and sliced cleanly through the water. I’d been a champion swimmer in high school, but the all-girls’ college didn’t have a swim team. They didn’t even have a pool or any physical activity classes. It was an elite college dedicated to fostering intellectual growth.
I groaned softly as I mentally agreed with Declan. Why had I chosen that place? It was a good school, but completely lacking in male possibilities, since all the professors were older than my dad.
I was deep in my naughty thoughts of transferring to another school and screwing my way through the football team—oddly enough, Declan was the quarterback, and I started with him—when a leather strap slipped around my upper arms. Out of instinct, I thrashed and tried to escape as it tightened around me.
“Relax, Lia.”
I twisted my head to glare up at Declan. “What the hell are you doing?”
He had the gall to run the back of his forefinger down my cheek in a mimicry of a lover’s gesture. “I told you not to touch that pussy.”
I blanched at his language and the shameful reminder of everything that had occurred last night. “Let me out of this…what is this?”
“My belt.” He winked as he crouched down. “I figured you’d rather I use it to tie you up than spank you with it.”
“Let me go right now.” I gasped when he pried my legs open, positioning them on either side of the wicker lounger where I lay after my swim. “If you don’t stop, I’ll scream for help.”
The cocky bastard just grinned at me. “Go ahead. If you want the servants to know you’re playing sex games with your stepbrother…”
I glared up at him. “I’m not playing any games.”
“Sure you are. You touched yourself last night, even after I told you I’d punish you for doing so.” He sounded so damned certain that I wanted to slap that smug expression off his face.
Rolling my eyes, I struggled against the leather. The sadistic jerk had positioned it so the strap rested against my nipples, so every movement stimulated the hardening buds. Subsiding for the moment, I tried to look impassive. “Just what do you think you’re going to do to me?”
He walked his fingers up my leg, pausing to tickle my inner thigh until I squirmed. “Hmm, I figure one for you, two for me is fair.”
That made no sense, but I couldn’t counter or ask for clarification, because I was too busy smothering a shout of outrage when he untied the left side of my bikini. Why had I chosen this set? Only ties and wishful thinking held it together. I barely suppressed a moan when he unfastened the other side before pulling the fabric from between my legs.
Next, Declan tackled my top, untying the strings methodically. I laughed at him when he couldn’t get the back unfastened due to the way he’d tied me up, but my satisfaction faded when he just untied the neck strings and left the triangles dangling down my stomach. My breasts were exposed aside from the leather that was even more tormenting without any barrier. “You can’t do this. You have no right.”
Declan tilted his head, looking down at me solemnly. One of his thumbs glided down my slit, flirting with edging inside. “Do you really want me to stop, Lia?” His finger moved upward again, and his thumb slipped inside me to press against my clit. “You tell me to walk away, and I will.”
My eyes narrowed with distrust. “Yeah, you’ll just leave me here naked and strapped to the chair.”
He shook his head. “Nah, if you really don’t want to play, I’ll let you go. You can go back to your virginal life, and we’ll forget all about this.”
My face flushed scarlet, and I shifted restlessly. How did he know I was a virgin? Was it that obvious no one had punched my V-card? And was it also that plain that I wanted to have wild, unrestrained sex, and he was the object of my lust? Did I really want to stop this? “Our dads…”
“Aren’t here.” He circled my clit with the pad of his thumb. “It’s just us, and we aren’t related. Our dads aren’t part of this. Just you and me, babe. What do you want me to do? Stay or go?” My arousal was leaking onto his hand in a steady stream, easing his way as his fingers moved down to my opening, entering me for a second before he completely withdrew his hand.
Hovering above me, not quite touching, but with the promise of doing so if I just gave in, he waited for my answer. I wanted to do the right thing. I strove to find the strength to tell him to stop and leave me alone, to either treat me like a sister or ignore me, but don’t fuck me. Instead, a small moan escaped me, and I parted my thighs wider.
Declan grinned as his hand returned between my legs. He stroked my clitoris gently at first, but increased his speed as my hips rocked faster. Each time I thrust aga
inst him, the leather abraded my nipples, which only increased my arousal. I wasn’t at all surprised by the speed of my climax as I came with a breathy whimper.
He rubbed me gently until I stopped thrashing and finally relaxed against the lounger. My stomach lurched with desire when he brought his fingers to his mouth and started licking them. It was an erotic sight, and it conjured up images of him sprawled between my thighs, his tongue probing my folds instead of cleaning his own fingers.
A moment later, Declan stood up and hooked his fingers into the waistband of his white swim briefs. “These are a little tight.”
His erection bulged against the smooth fabric, and the lining did little to hide the details. Clearly well endowed, with a thick head that looked a bit daunting even through fabric. How would it be when he pulled it out in a moment?
I soon found out as he inched the briefs down over his lean hips, toned thighs, and muscular legs. They dropped to the cement with a rustling sound as he stepped out of them and came back to me. Instead of sitting on the lounger or getting between my splayed thighs, he stood near my head.
I watched, enthralled and nervous, as he lifted his shaft and brought it closer to my mouth. I knew what he wanted, but I hesitated when he ran the head across my lower lip, leaving a trail of moisture in his wake. Tentatively, I flicked out my tongue to taste his essence, finding him salty and sweet.
His cockhead pressed against the seam of my lips, and I softened my clenched jaws, slowly parting my lips to take him inside. Declan groaned as I swirled my tongue around the head, and his body twitched when I sucked lightly.
I was scared for a brief second when he cupped the back of my head, but he only held me gently, stroking my hair, as I took him at my own pace. As I sucked his length, occasionally pausing to lick him and swallow a mouthful of saliva, he kept patting me and never intruded deeper than I allowed.
I had never given a blowjob before, but my body seemed to know what to do, even as my mind tried to micromanage every detail. I was so busy focusing on a rhythm and trying to remember to suck or lick at the right time that the first jet of his arousal hitting the back of my tongue startled me into gagging. His cock slipped from my mouth with a popping sound.