Shackled: A Stepbrother Romance Novel

by Arabella Abbing

  “That’s my girl.” Jonathan said with a grin before shoving the orange juice back into the fridge with a grunt of distaste.

  I let the comment slide, but my pulse still quickened. It was something he said even when we were just friends—something that always made me melt. Did he have any idea what I would have given back then to actually be his girl? I would’ve done anything he asked for. Given him everything.

  Now the question that was begging to be answered was—Did I still want to be his girl? Past mistakes and all the bullshit drama be damned?

  He gently placed the juice in front of me on the table before looking up, his smile melting into a look of concern as he asked, “Are you all right?”

  When I dared a look into his eyes and saw how genuinely worried he was, I realized that—yes. On some level, I did want to be his girl. I wanted his apologies and the declarations of love. I wanted to allow him to make amends and eventually forgive him. Or at least try to.

  “I’m fine,” I whispered when I noticed that he was moving around the table to my side, still waiting for a response.

  He crouched down in front of me and reached a hand up to touch my cheek. I couldn’t hold back my slight wince and I immediately regretted it once the pain flashed across his face.

  “You look a little pale, I was just checking to see if you were warm,” he explained as he raised both palms in the air and started to stand back up.

  Without thinking about my actions or the consequences, I hopped up and slung my arms around his shoulders. His eyes widened with surprise even as his own arms went around my waist to steady me. I hooked a leg over his hip and he caught on immediately, letting a palm slide beneath my ass so he could lift me up and place me on the table.

  His lips began to form a question—one I was sure I didn’t want to answer yet—so I covered his mouth with my palm and whispered, “I missed you.”

  Jonathan’s eyes drifted shut for a brief moment and I could feel his lips curving into a smile beneath my hand. I removed my palm and returned his happy grin, already beginning to feel a new sense of lightness as I let go of some of my anger.

  That’s when I realized that forgiveness was something we both needed for very different reasons. He needed a second chance and I needed to let go of the past before I let it run my entire life. It might take some time, but I was willing to try. For him, for me—for us.

  “Jonathan?”

  “Yes, baby?”

  I arched my body as close to him as I could get without falling off the table and craned my head up to whisper against his lips.

  “Make me forget.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jonathan

  “Make me forget.”

  I kissed her then—hell bent on doing exactly as she asked. Logically, I knew using sex as a distraction wasn’t going to be a viable long-term solution, but I wasn’t going to pass an opportunity like this up. Not when she was so hungry for me. There’d be plenty of time for talking after.

  “I’ll make you forget,” I panted after I pulled away for air. I reached down and yanked her top up, throwing it somewhere behind me before doing the same thing with her bra. “I’ll make you mine.”

  She gasped my name when I bent down and sucked hard on one of her nipples, arching her back in a vain attempt to get more of my mouth on her. I groaned and lifted my hand to the other side, twisting and pinching the stiff peak nearly hard enough to hurt. When she cried out, I pulled away and used my tongue to soothe the ache, smiling against her when she let out a soft mewl of pleasure.

  I looked up at her flushed face and smiled, silently wishing that this wouldn’t be the last time I got the chance to see her like this.

  But just in case it was—I decided to make it memorable. For both of us.

  “My gorgeous girl,” I murmured as I ran my hands up the soft skin of her body until I reached her cheeks. I gripped them tightly when she tried to look away, forcing her to look into my eyes. Once her gaze was locked with mine, I heatedly whispered, “I love you.”

  Then I clashed our lips together, effectively cutting off whatever response she was going to give. How she felt about me loving her didn’t matter at the moment. All that mattered was that she wanted me.

  Desperately, if I had to guess by the way her hands started harshly pulling at the waistband of my jeans.

  I broke the kiss to tug off her pajama bottoms as she continued to work on my jeans, easily undoing the zipper and setting my cock free. I pushed them the rest of the way down my hips and kicked them off, sending them sliding against the hardwood floor. After pulling my shirt over my head, I retook my place between her legs.

  With a cocky grin, I gripped her hips and pulled her ass to the edge of the table before holding her thighs at my hips. She hooked her ankles together behind my back and leaned back on one elbow, using her other hand to reach between us and guide the swollen head of my cock to her pussy.

  When I felt the wet heat brush against me, I couldn’t fight the need to thrust any longer. I pushed forward—burying myself to the hilt immediately. Fiona’s head fell back as she propped herself up on the table with both elbows, bracing herself while I pulled out and slammed back in.

  “Oh my god,” she groaned, her chest rising and falling heavily. “Jonathan!”

  My eyes were locked on her tits and the way they bounced as I pumped harder and faster into her—completely lost in the sensation and unable to focus on anything except for her body and the delicious noises she made while I pounded her.

  In her bed the night before, I had made love to her. It was sweet and loving and truly incredible.

  But this? This was a fuck. And she loved it.

  “Harder, harder!” she begged, digging her heels into the small of my back in an attempt to force me back into her tight heat.

  In the back of my mind, I knew that the grip I had on her hips must have been hurting her. But she continued to edge me on and I thrusted harder and faster until I could feel the tension beginning to coil at the base of my spine. I gritted my teeth together and tried to block out the sounds of her breathless voice begging for more—begging to make her come—the noises only pulling me closer to bliss far more quickly than I wanted.

  The harder I went, the louder she got. I let go of her hips to pull her up and bring her lips to mine. I sucked on her tongue each time I thrust inside her, although trying to focus on the kiss made the speed of my hips slow. By the time we broke apart, she brokenly begged me to speed back up again.

  My cock was beginning to throb with the need to come and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold back. I pulled out and tightly gripped the head to stave it off, smiling in spite of the slight pain when Fiona made the sweetest sound of disappointment before she looked at me questioningly.

  “Get off the table,” I demanded, lifting her off the table and spinning her around before she even had a chance to voice a protest. “Bend over for me, baby.”

  She made a small noise of surprise when I pushed her over, pressing her breasts hard against the wooden table before I pulled at her hips and lifted her ass to my gaze. I dropped to my knees and pushed my mouth to her core—grinning when she let out a loud shout of surprise.

  “What—Oh my god, what are you doing? Fuck me!” she breathlessly demanded.

  Even though my cock throbbed at her words, I wasn’t going to give in to her. Not yet at least. I was determined to have a few minutes outside the ecstasy of her walls, ensuring that I’d be able to make her come before I did.

  Because fuck—being inside her was already mind-blowing and taking her from behind was just going to make it even harder for me to last.

  So I buried my tongue into her pussy, groaning at the taste of her. If I hadn’t already known it before, it would have become clear to me right then. I’d never get enough of her, no matter how many times I had her.

  Her hips shifted around aimlessly, pushing her ass back in a blatant attempt to get more of the pleasure I was giving he
r. With my other hand, I reached around her thigh until I got a good angle on her clitoris and began to rub it in quick, hard circles.

  “Yes!” she cried, followed by a loud thump as her forehead hit the table. “Don’t stop, don’t stop. It’s so good.”

  I moaned against her core in agreement, keeping up the attention on her clit while I thrust my tongue in and out. I kept going until I could see her legs start to shake, signaling just how close to the edge she was.

  Then I abruptly pulled back, stood up, and slammed myself back inside before she even had the chance to look back at me.

  Home sweet home, I thought as her warmth enveloped me.

  Fiona cried out in ecstasy when I started to fuck her again, pumping into her so hard that the kitchen table started sliding across the floor. I took a slight step forward to regain leverage and tipped my head back, allowing my eyes to fall shut as I concentrated on nothing but the sensations.

  I must have been hitting her g-spot perfectly, if the scream of satisfaction as she came was any indication. I ground my teeth together as I fought to fuck her through her orgasm while holding off my own, wanting to get every last bit of pleasure out of her body before I ultimately had to stop.

  Lasting through the milking sensation of her pussy around my cock was both heaven and hell and when the pulses of her walls finally started to die down, I pulled out and worked my hand frantically over my cock. I leaned forward to brace myself up on the table as I spilled on her ass and back, a guttural groan rising from my throat when I looked down to watch as I coated her flawless skin with my cum.

  “Fuck. Fuckkkk,” I groaned when my dick finally stopped spurting. When the last of the pulses subsided, I let go of my cock and backed up until I found the chair that had been hastily shoved away when we started and flopped down. Fiona was still leaning over the table and trying to get her breathing under control when I breathed out, “You’re amazing.”

  Without so much as a glance back at me, she straightened herself and dryly stated, “I’m also filthy. I’m going to take a shower.”

  I frowned as she started to leave, not even bothering to pick up her discarded clothes. Had I done something wrong? She was the one who instigated this. Just as I was about to open my mouth and demand an explanation, she stopped at the doorway of the kitchen.

  “And thanks. For the pancakes,” she quickly added, then paused as a blush crept onto her cheeks. “And everything else.”

  Then she was gone.

  By the time the water turned on, I was still sitting butt ass naked in the chair, puzzled over her abrupt departure. I could only guess that she was embarrassed by the way she had acted and while I could certainly understand that, I completely disagreed with it. She had no reason to be shy or embarrassed around me. Ever.

  Then again, maybe she just felt like she needed the shower. I had made quite a mess of her backside.

  Just the thought of how her ass looked when I covered her made my cock twitch against my thigh and I wondered how Fiona would react if I joined her in the shower for round two. At least I’d be able to clean up any mess I made right away.

  But the wiser part of me knew she wouldn’t appreciate it. Even though we had obviously made some kind of breakthrough, I didn’t want to push my luck. Yet.

  So I forced myself to get out of the chair and pick up all of our clothing, opting only to put on my boxers and throw the rest of the lot into the laundry bag that we kept by the front door. When I came back into the kitchen and glanced around, I realized that fucking her on the kitchen table while it was full of food wasn’t the brightest idea I’d ever had.

  I rolled my eyes at myself as I cleaned up the juice that I hadn’t even noticed we spilled, then removed the rest of the food and took it to the sink. After shoving down a few pancakes and trashing the ruined bits, I loaded the plates into the dishwasher and paused to listen for the sound of running water.

  When I didn’t hear anything, I realized that she must have gotten out at some point while I was cleaning up. My body instantly began to move towards her bedroom, but I stopped myself at the last second. Since I wasn’t sure how long she’d been out of the shower, I figured I could at least give her a few more moments of privacy.

  Even though that was the last thing I really wanted to do.

  I resigned myself to cleaning off the table with a rag and tidying up the room just to keep myself from running to her. Besides, it was probably a good idea to do this now. Leslie and Dad would be arriving in the morning and I really didn’t feel like getting up early to clean up the mess I’d made.

  After everything was cleaned up and I twisted the knob to start running the dishwasher, there was nothing left to stop me from joining Fiona. I moved quietly down the hall, noting that her bedroom door was left ajar. Was that done for my benefit? Was it an invitation?

  I didn’t know, so I pushed the door open further to look inside.

  Fiona was curled up on one side of the bed, almost as if she had purposely kept the other side open for me. I still wasn’t sure if she did it on purpose or not, but I hesitated in the doorway for a long moment before I took a deep breath and walked in.

  If she asked me to go, I would go.

  But as I slid beneath the covers and gently wrapped my arms around her frame, I found myself silently praying that she would let me stay.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Fiona

  After my shower, I slid beneath the covers in the darkness of my bedroom and tried to work my way through my muddled thoughts. The closer I seemed to get to forgiving Jonathan, the worse my paranoia became about my mom’s reaction when I inevitably had to tell her that I was moving back in.

  Because if the bombshell of her daughter dropping out of college without even discussing it first didn’t send her into a tailspin—the news that her daughter was also sleeping with her future stepson certainly would. Especially considering we would all be living together.

  It was a mess of epic proportions and while none of us had planned it this way, that really didn’t make things any better.

  When the mattress dipped behind me, I jumped. I was so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t even heard Jonathan’s footsteps entering the room, but I definitely felt it when his arms looped around my waist and he dragged me back against his body.

  I half-expected him to say something perverted or simply make a move in hopes of a repeat of what happened between us in the kitchen, so I was truly surprised when he just held me for a long time.

  So long, in fact, that I started to feel the call of sleep beckoning me. It was hard to resist the urge, but I somehow managed it. As much as I wished I could find an excuse to delay it, I knew we needed to talk.

  Jonathan obviously felt the same way. “You okay?”

  “Not really,” I admitted with a heavy sigh.

  I could feel him shifting around behind me, then he gently pulled at my hip to turn me over. I went along with it, just barely able to see his face with the soft glow of the moonlight coming in through the window.

  “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  I nearly raised an eyebrow at the commanding tone of his voice, but stopped when I realized that there wouldn’t have been a point. He seemed to be under the impression that whatever was wrong had something to do with him, but that was only partially true. The only thing I could really do to ease his concern was admit the biggest issue.

  “I dropped out of college.”

  Even with the limited lighting, I could see his eyebrows raise high in surprise. “Shut the fuck up. Does your mom know?”

  “Not yet. The plan was to tell her right when I got home and spend the next week smoothing it over, but seeing you and your dad kind of killed that plan. Now I don’t know how—or when—to tell her. But my stuff is being delivered to the house on Friday, so I have to figure it out soon.”

  Jonathan was quiet as he contemplated the severity of my situation, but he kept his hand moving in small circles on my back. I hated to admit that I to
ok great comfort from the small touch—so much so that I would’ve begged him not to stop if he tried to pull away.

  Thankfully, it didn’t come to that. Instead, he pulled me even closer and tilted his head down to press a kiss to my shoulder. I shivered hard, grateful that he didn’t poke fun at my body’s instinctive reaction.

  “Is it wrong of me to say that I’m happy? Because I really fucking am.”

  “Why?” I asked, ignoring his hypothetical question. “Because if you think that this weekend meant that we’re getting together or something, then I’ll tell you right now that—”

  “No,” he interrupted firmly and let out a sigh of frustration. “I meant that I’m happy that you’ll be around. That I’ll be able to see you more often. I missed you.”

  “Why do you have to say things like that?” I whispered as I slammed my eyes shut.

  I had never thought that Jonathan would be a romantic, but some of the things that had come out of his mouth this weekend were undoubtedly that. While a part of me swooned with every word, it also felt like I was being repeatedly kicked in the stomach.

  “Because I love you. And I’ll keep saying it until you either believe me or tell me to fuck off.”

  “Fuck off,” I mumbled pitifully.

  A beat of silence passed and his body briefly tensed before relaxing back to normal. When he pulled me even closer against him a moment later, it was my turn to tense up.

  “Nice try, but you’re going to have to try it again with a little more feeling.”

  “Let go.”

  “Never,” he whispered before craning his neck down and sliding his lips against mine.

  I whimpered into the kiss, bringing my hand up to cup his stubble-ridden cheek as he softly moved our lips together. This kiss was far different than the hard ones we shared in the kitchen only an hour or so ago, but my body responded the exact same way. Judging by the strengthening pressure against my stomach, I knew he was in a similar boat.