Stepbrothers Undone: 15 Book Hot Erotic Stepbrother Romance Bundle (Excite Spice Boxed Sets)

by Selena Kitt

  I smiled and kissed his cock.

  “Later then,” I said.

  Later?

  Who was this slut using my name?

  She’s the slut that made this happen.

  I was thankful she made an appearance.

  Could there really be a later? This was so fucking wrong. And so fucking hot. I needed a later even if I knew I shouldn’t.

  I stood up, dragging my nipples across his balls and shaft. Across his ridged stomach. I circled my arms behind him and rested my head on his chest.

  “Thank you, Jake,” I said. “Thank you for the best birthday ever.”

  I couldn’t believe it. I felt both empty and full at once. Empty from not having his cock inside me. But full from the lingering sting and tingles.

  I felt guilty and glorious. I burned with pain and pleasure. The world didn’t seem big enough to fit it all in. I didn’t seem big enough to fit him all in.

  Then his phone buzzed in his coat pocket.

  “Shit,” he said.

  He retrieved his phone and glanced at the screen.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he said.

  He answered the call.

  “Stop calling me. What don’t you understand,” he said.

  Who was calling him all the time?

  Oh no. Was it her? The last bimbo I’d seen on his arm at dinner a few weeks ago? What was her name?

  Anne. Annabel. Anneeka. Annika.

  That was it.

  That German supermodel.

  A weight slammed into my chest.

  It was like the heavy, suffocating curtain of reality crashed back down.

  “What,” Jake shouted into the phone. “God dammit!”

  She must have hung up because he paused and then looked at the phone.

  He jolted awake. He looked at me, up and down, at the pile of my dress on the floor. At my torn panties. At my cum oozing down my thighs.

  He covered his eyes.

  “What have we fucking done,” he said.

  I thought it was pretty obvious.

  “What have we fucking done here,” he said.

  Part of me felt the same way. Felt the tsunami of guilt and shame that threatened to sweep us away. But a part of me felt like time on the ocean sounded great.

  He threw my dress at me.

  “Get your clothes on,” he said. “We have to leave immediately.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “It was the best birthday present ever.”

  I didn’t feel as calm as I pretended, but he was unhinged and it scared me.

  He shook his head. Looked at me like I was an alien or something.

  “Julia, are you serious?” he asked.

  “Yes, I am,” I said.

  Now he was starting to piss me off.

  Was I that horrible?

  So disgusting as to be tossed aside the instant he shot a hot load inside me?

  “This was so fucking wrong,” he said, “We have to forget it ever happened.”

  I slipped back into my soiled dress. Picked up my shredded panties and slipped them into my purse. I was going to keep those forever. They were precious to me now.

  Jake threw his clothes on and dragged me toward the elevator.

  Every lusty fantasy I’d had since setting eyes on him had just been fulfilled. In real life. A shiver of pleasure washed through me.

  It couldn’t end like this.

  I needed more. Needed him to know I felt what he was feeling too. But that we had to get through it. For each other.

  Besides, not every lusty fantasy had been fulfilled. There were still quite a few begging for his attention.

  Chapter Eight

  We got down from the top of the Eiffel Tower with surprising ease. Jake stuffed a huge wad of big, colorful Euro bills into the old guard’s coat pocket and apologized.

  He was so smooth.

  The guard escorted us down the lower elevator and waved goodbye as we marched to the limousine. Jake opened the door for me and didn’t say a word.

  I piled in and slumped against the far door.

  He sat as far from me as he could and instructed Antonio to take us back to the hotel.

  Our beautiful moment atop the Eiffel Tower had somehow shattered on the ground below.

  I felt so awkward. So alone.

  “So you’re just going to fuck me,” I said, “and dump me? Take my virginity and then throw me to the curb?”

  He stared out his window, refusing to answer.

  “Real fucking nice, big brother,” I said.

  “Don’t you fucking say that,” he said. His eyes still locked on the window.

  I still felt him inside me. The warm ache of his absence. A cool wetness on my inner thighs. A cold reflection of his attitude right now. Confusion swirled inside me. My stomach hurt. The faint taste of his cum lingered on my tongue. Off in the distance, lost in the parade of city lights, cars honked as they made their way through the hive of ancient streets.

  Well after midnight, and Paris still hummed. A beautiful inviting feeling that hurt all the worse because it was so the total opposite to the void between Jake and me.

  Three feet of physical space that felt like a million miles.

  I turned to him, hands on my hips. The universal business pose that women used when they demanded attention.

  Jake held his palm up to my face. The universal sign for stop right there. Do not pass. Do not talk. No. No.

  “Never again,” he said.

  His eyes looked forward. A cold wall of air between us threatened to shatter me into a million pieces.

  I reached for his shoulder. To calm him. To calm me.

  He shook me off with an angry huff. He didn’t make eye contact. The line of his jaw flexed and coiled.

  Why was he so mad at me?

  I didn’t want him to hate me. I couldn’t stand that. Sadness gripped my chest like a tightening vise. His fresh rain and woods smell filled my world and made the lonely ache worse.

  Was that my first and last time with him?

  Ever?

  A knot lodged in my throat. It choked me almost as much as his cock had just moments earlier. A sob broke out of my chest.

  I tried not to. I knew Jake didn’t want to see me cry. But I couldn’t help it.

  Tears streamed down my cheeks and clung to my jaw. I was crushed. Demolished to dust and nothing. I needed him.

  “Never again, Julia,” he said.

  He finally turned to me, and noticed my tears. His face instantly softened and he wiped away the salty streams.

  “Please stop crying. You need to pull it together.”

  “Jake,” I said, “please don’t say never. Not after how perfect it was.”

  “Julia,” he said and then stopped.

  He looked down at his hands, clasped and flexing.

  “It was wrong, Julia,” he said. “It can never happen again.”

  “It’s not our fault. We didn’t ask to feel this way. We do though. And it’s beautiful,” I said.

  He shook his head.

  “Did I not make your cock feel good, Jake,” I asked.

  He recoiled.

  Shit.

  Wrong time to try to talk dirty.

  I had no experience with when the right time was.

  He looked at me with cold steel in his sky blue eyes.

  “That has nothing to do with it,” he said. “Any dumb whore can make my cock feel good.”

  So I was a dumb whore now?

  How fucking dare he.

  “I guess that’s the problem, huh,” I said. “You’re looking for just another dumb whore. Sorry to disappoint you, Jacob.”

  He winced.

  “It’s done,” he said. “We can’t change that. But we can never speak of it again.”

  The limo arrived and we sat for a moment in silence. Terrible, lonely silence.

  The Hotel Plaza Athenee was a decadent affair. It had a luxurious Parisian feel. Red canopies covered arched white ma
rble window sills. Huge crystal chandeliers with gold fittings and dark wood furniture peeked through the latticed glass.

  A valet in a crisp white uniform opened the limo door for us and welcomed us back for the evening. Another attendant opened the hotel door.

  This place was over the top.

  This was my first trip to Paris, but I knew this was not like most places, here or anywhere for that matter. Everything was opulent, with polished woods and plush fabrics. It looked like some of the pictures I’d pulled up of the palace at Versailles. Like that kind of ornate furnishing but with a more modern edge.

  Jake of course covered everything. The hotel suite. The dinners out. The guided tours. All of it. He never expected it to be otherwise.

  I followed in silence to our top floor suite. He strolled in like he owned it. Maybe he did.

  I, on the other hand, was still befuddled by the size. By the elegance. It wasn’t normal for a hotel room to be bigger than most people’s houses. Not in my world at least.

  I liked it.

  I felt guilty, but still, I liked it.

  But all the luxury in the world meant nothing if Jake didn’t want me anymore. I couldn’t stand the thought.

  We walked in the front hall and Jake hung up his coat. He took my scarf and hung it on the opposite side of the coat rack, as far from his jacket as possible.

  “Jake, is that you,” a voice echoed from down the hall. His room was down the entry hall, through the living room, through the dining room, and down another short hall. The voice sounded young and had an accent. A German accent. A furious German accent.

  Why was Annika here?

  That bitch.

  Did Jake invite her?

  “Jake, who is that,” I asked.

  The words came out way harsher than I hoped they would.

  His mouth creased shut and the edges dipped down.

  “Go to sleep,” he said, “Let’s put this behind us.”

  “I’m sorry, Jake,” I said.

  I wanted to hug him. But if he rejected me, I knew I would collapse right there. My body convulsed as a sob built in my chest.

  “Stop it,” he said. “Go to your room.”

  He gestured down the hall. I sniffed away a tear and nodded to him.

  “Good night, Jake,” I said.

  Yelling in earnest started a minute later. Annika was pissed. He was pissed.

  Good.

  Their, and mostly her, screaming lasted ten minutes and then went quiet. Cue the silent treatment. Or had they worked it out? What was she doing waiting in his room anyway?

  Was I just another bimbo now? Yet another conquest to be kicked to the gutter?

  I certainly didn’t fit the mold.

  My stomach roiled and flopped. I felt the urge to puke. I took a big drink of water and exhaled.

  I went into my bathroom and looked in the mirror. I was a wreck. My eyes were puffy, two dams about to break. I peeled out of the ruined dress and noticed dried patches of blood and cum on my thighs.

  Who knew your first time would be so messy?

  I hopped in the shower and cranked up the hot water. The shower head was one of those waterfall kinds in the ceiling above your head. The walls had a bewildering array of nozzles and levers. It had taken me twenty minutes to turn it on the first time I used it.

  I still hadn’t tried all the options. I was afraid I might blow something up. Besides, the waterfall option was amazing.

  The scalding water blasted over my shoulders, cascaded down my body, and washed away the outer evidence of our encounter.

  After a long soak, I soaped up and stumbled out. I wanted to go to his room. To talk with him. To see if she was still here.

  I knew he’d get pissed at me for nosing into his business.

  But hadn’t tonight created a little shared business? Just between him and I. Didn’t I get to know about his other related businesses?

  He’d be so pissed. And I was exhausted. The day. The wine. The tower. Jake.

  It was too much.

  I did a speed job on my teeth and hoped not to hear about it later at the dentist. And then into a tiny pink pajama set. Pink cotton panties with a matching pink cotton tank top.

  I planned to wear it to breakfast in the morning.

  So what if Jake said it was over between us. I didn’t have to agree. I didn’t have to make it easy for him.

  I was going to flaunt it tomorrow morning. Show him what he was turning down. Bring him back to his senses.

  I lay in bed staring out at the Eiffel Tower, perfectly framed in the large window and velvety cream-colored curtains.

  My pussy ached with a dull radiating warmth. I traced my fingers up and down the groove and felt a dull throb, an echo of his presence there. A tingly chill raced up my back as I remembered the feeling of his pulsing thickness inside me.

  I needed him. I needed it.

  Again.

  Chapter Nine

  I awoke to dreams of making love on top of the Eiffel Tower. Making love to the love of my life. I floated up out of the drowsy, swirly place where the primitive parts of our brains rule.

  Which is maybe why my pussy was damp.

  As the hard edges of the waking world slowly settled in, images danced through my mind. Jake’s cock in my hands. Beads of sweat sliding down his chiseled chest. The sky fire in his blue eyes as he came inside me. My legs clamped around his waist, clenching him into the deepest parts of me.

  My pink cotton panties were soaked through. Did I just have a wet dream? Like some sex-starved teenage boy? And they’re all sex-starved. If they had sex ten times a day, they’d still be sex-starved.

  The clock showed six in the morning. Why was I awake?

  There it was.

  A faint moaning. A faint cry.

  I scrambled up and snuck out my bedroom door, down the hall, through the needlessly large living room, through the dining room, and crept down the hall to his room. The door was closed.

  I listened, barely breathing.

  There it was.

  A voice.

  Moaning with pleasure.

  Unless he was watching porn at six in the morning, he was in there with Annika. In there doing something that made her make those sounds.

  What the fuck?

  Earlier, it sounded like he was going to throw her out a window.

  How could they now be having sex?

  Make-up sex?

  Did he really just take my virginity last night, the most beautiful, perfect night of my life? Except for how it ended. And now he was having some make-up sex with that bitch Annika?

  My heart thumped in my ears. My brain screamed. My hands curled into hard fists.

  He was mine!

  My stepbrother. My lover.

  Fuck that bitch.

  Serious bodily violence was a serious consideration.

  Maybe I was wrong though.

  Maybe it was porn. Or maybe a video on his phone. Some candid sex recording from Annika or some other ex. Why would he be looking at that though?

  Ugh. I had to know. Not knowing was killing me.

  Before I could think better of it, I quietly turned the knob and opened the door a sliver.

  The room was dark. Just a stream of early morning light shone through a crack in the curtains.

  Two figures zoomed into focus as my eyes adjusted to the dim light. There on his bed. A tall woman facing away from me. Naked but for a bra. Long blonde hair flowing down her back. Thin. Desperately in need of an all-you-can-eat buffet thin.

  Annika.

  She sat on top of Jake, riding him. Her hips rolled with smooth, fluid grace.

  Slut.

  I watched his thick cock slipping in and out of her. The condom gave it a weird faint green color.

  He was definitely going to have to quit his whore’s addiction. Starting with this one.