by Hart, Lane
“Y-you have?” I ask in surprise.
“Yeah, I have,” he says as he comes a few steps closer. “Fuck, it’s kind of a relief to finally admit that shit.”
I’m struggling with how to respond to his incredibly sweet honesty when the toaster suddenly pops up, interrupting the silence, making me jump in surprise.
Apparently, I’m not the only one who was startled. One second, Winston is standing five feet away and the next, he’s grabbing me and throwing me down on the tile. Somehow, I don’t even feel a thing, not with his arms underneath me, lowering me gently before his right hand reaches for the gun in the back of his jeans. My breath catches at the sudden change of position. And with our chests pressed together tightly, I can actually feel his heart thumping out of control.
When I’m able to speak again, I whisper, “Before you shoot a hole through the toaster, can I get my Pop-Tart out of it?”
“Holy shit,” Winston mutters as his tense body relaxes on top of mine. He rests his forehead on the cool tile beside my head. “It was just the toaster.”
“Yep.”
“Sorry.” He shoves the gun back into his jeans and gets on his hands and knees to lift his heavy weight off me. “Guess I’m a little on edge after earlier.”
“I noticed,” I reply softly, biting back my smile at his overreaction, dragging me to the floor as he tried to protect me from what he thought was a threat. It wouldn’t be right to laugh at him for doing something so heroic, even if all he saved me from were a few unhealthy carbs.
“Fuck,” Winston grumbles before he sits back on his knees that are still straddling me, stretching his jeans to the max over his thick thighs. He raises his hands and scrubs his palms over his face. When he lowers his hands to his hips, he asks, “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” I answer, missing the weight of him on me, so I add, “Well, there may be a knot on the back of my head.”
“Shit. Let me see,” Winston says and leans his torso forward, putting his chest to mine again so he can shove his fingers through my hair. “I don’t feel any knots…”
“Keep looking.” He slides the other hand underneath my head, lifting it enough for my mouth to easily brush over his, making his body freeze. “My head’s fine,” I tell him with another kiss.
“Good.” He sighs in relief before his lips press down on mine and his tongue swipes over my parted lips, demanding entry. As soon as I let him in, though, he pulls away to look down at me, our faces only an inch or two apart.
“What are we doing here, Zoe?” Winston asks.
“I think it’s called…kissing,” I say, demonstrating the action again.
“I’m being serious,” he says.
“I am too,” I tell him as I slip my hands up under his t-shirt to get to his warm abs that are even harder and more chiseled than before. That small touch is all it takes for him to start getting harder a little lower, right on top of my stomach.
When I pop the button on his jeans, Winston groans and presses himself down onto me. “I thought you said you were never gonna fuck me again.”
“I did,” I respond as I lower the zipper on his jeans. “But then you apologized and said you were in love with me. So, I forgive you.” I give his bulge a squeeze through his jeans, making his eyes slam shut as he curses.
When his dark gaze locks with mine again, he says, “Once won’t be enough for me this time.”
“Me either,” I keep massaging him teasingly through the denim while my pussy clenches and weeps, wanting to have him inside of me as many times as possible. “Good thing I’m staying here for a few more days.”
“You’re not leaving until we deal with those fuckers at the studio.”
“How long will that take?” I ask.
“As long as it fucking takes.”
“Then I’ll stay as long as it takes…if you make it worth my while.”
Winston’s mouth crashes down on mine, his tongue plunging forcefully into my mouth, letting me know he’s accepted the challenge and is more than up to making the next few days good for me.
His hands work fast, yanking my shirt up and over my head. He then balls it up and shoves it under me, making it into a pillow. I’m not wearing a bra, like usual around Winston to torment him. He squeezes the shit out of both my breasts, like it’s payback and he wants to hurt me, but it only feels good. In fact, I think I love his punishments, especially when he spanked my ass in the garage…
“Take your bottoms off while I put on a condom,” Winston orders against my lips before he sits back on his knees to shrug out of his leather cut. After reaching behind him to tug his shirt off, he reaches into his jeans pocket to find a foil wrapper.
My shorts and panties only go to my thighs since Winston’s still straddling me.
He’s already got his jeans shoved down, the condom out of the wrapper, and is rolling it down his thick length.
“That’s far enough,” he tells me. “I just need to get inside of you right fucking now.” He rubs his head back and forth through my slit, then pushes forward. Even with my legs still together, he doesn’t meet any resistance, thanks to how slick I am. “Oh fuck,” he groans as he slides a few more inches inside. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I gasp as he fills up the emptiness that’s missed him for so damn long.
“I swear I’ll lick your sweet pussy all night, but my cock has waited too fucking long for this.” Winston grabs my hands from his waist and pins them above my head, his face hovering above mine again as our lower bodies join completely and it’s impossible for us to be any closer. “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says. “And for the next few days, you’re mine.”
I bite down on my lip before I can blurt out something stupid, like that I gave him my virginity because I wanted to be his forever.
Winston pulls back and then slams forward again with a groan. “Fuck yes. So damn good,” he grunts. “Every time I fuck you the rest of the week, it’s going to be with your sexy legs together, making your pussy just as tight as the very first time.”
“Yes, please, Winston,” I moan as I lift my hips to meet his forceful thrusts. His big cock feels so good, like it hits even deeper and better than all the men who couldn’t come close to taking his place.
His grip on my wrists above my head tighten as his heavy body moves faster but he doesn’t kiss me. It would be impossible at the moment to keep our mouths together with his urgent thrusts, but what he does is even better. His eyes are locked on mine, watching me, seeing me and showing me the emotions he kept hidden the first night we were together. And what his eyes reveal takes my breath away. They say more than his words ever could—how much he cares about me, missed me, and yeah…there’s some lingering anger in them too, for not coming back sooner and for taking my clothes off for photos.
I don’t blame him. I want to kick my own ass for not coming home before this week, for holding a grudge and staying pissed at him for so long.
No, I want Winston to punish me for the time we were apart. I want his big hands smacking my ass so hard it hurts to sit again. But I have to admit that having him fuck me like this—riding me when I’m unable to touch his amazing, muscular body or wrap my legs around his hips to urge him faster—feels pretty good too. Each pump of his powerful hips drives his pelvis against my clit, sending pleasurable jolts through me that make me gasp and moan.
I squirm underneath him as much as he’ll let me, which isn’t much, trying to get more pressure on that needy bundle of nerves as he hammers away inside of me.
“Harder to get off with a rubber on, isn’t it?” Winston asks and I nod my agreement. “How dare you let me fuck you bareback your first time? You ruined sex for me and for yourself that night, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I whine as he lets my wrists go to pull his cock free and teases me with just the tip occasionally brushing against my entrance.
“You ever make that mistake again?” Winston asks, his chest sweating
and heaving against my own.
“No. Did you?” I throw the same question back at him.
“No. Never,” he answers. “You on the pill?”
“No,” I reply because they make me gain weight like crazy, which is not something I can afford in my profession.
“Do you trust me?” Winston asks.
“Yes,” I agree with a nod and then both of our hands are grabbing for his cock, in a hurry to get the rubber rolled down and off.
As soon as Winston gets the condom free and tosses it away, he’s plunging inside of me again and… “Oh my god, yes!” I moan because it feels even better.
“Fuck, that’s amazing,” Winston agrees as he buries his face in my neck. He moves in and out, in and out, slow and leisurely so we can both savor every second of our bodies joining together with nothing in between, creating magic.
“More, faster,” I demand, and Winston obliges. “Yes!”
He hits that perfect spot inside of me and I explode and tremble through the pleasurable waves. My pussy clenches around Winston’s shaft until he reluctantly pulls it free. Seeing his big hand stroke his own dick causes a few more of the wonderful tingles before his hot release shoots across my stomach.
“Jesus Christ!” Winston exclaims as he throws his head back as he finishes himself off. “Fuck, Zoe!”
Finally free to touch him again, I run my palms up his chest while his pumping hand begins to slow. “That was good, right?”
“So good,” he agrees, looking down at me with a grin. “You’re addictive.”
“Clean up the mess you made and then take me to bed so we can do it again?” I suggest.
“Hell yes,” Winston agrees. “I just…I have to keep my phone close by, in case Roman calls.”
“And what happens when Roman calls?”
“We’re going after the fucker with the dagger tattoo, and maybe everyone at the studio if they had something to do with the kidnappings.”
“Sounds dangerous,” I say in concern, worried about Winston having to use the gun he carries on someone who could be shooting back at him.
“That’s why we’re not going in without some intel and a plan. Roman’s working on that. Until then…”
“Until then, we can stay in bed naked?” I ask. I don’t want to think about him getting hurt, especially not right now.
“That. Exactly.”
Chapter Fifteen
Winston
After I clean up in the bathroom, I head back to Zoe’s room in just my boxer briefs. That’s where I find Zoe sitting against the headboard of her white, four-poster, childhood bed, naked, and eating a Pop-Tart. It’s insane how the woman can make anything look sexy, even this. Guess that’s why she gets paid to model.
“You want one?” she asks, since I’m just standing in the doorway, staring at her. I’m not hungry for food. I’m only hungry for more of Zoe.
I still can’t fucking believe she forgave me and finally let me touch her again. I’m hoping she meant what she said about us moving to the bedroom to go at it again. I want her as many times as I can get her. Well, until she leaves again…
“Nah, I’m good,” I answer before I move around to climb onto the empty side of the bed and sit beside her on the pink-and-purple comforter. Looking around for the first time in a while, I realize our parents have kept her room exactly the same since she left. It’s crazy to see how young and innocent Zoe looked in the collage of pictures of her and her friends from high school posted on the bulletin board. A lot of things in here are so familiar I’m surprised I forgot about them, like the ballerina jewelry box and unicorn statues on her dresser, not to mention the various stuffed animals that are still resting on her bed between us. The entire room is a stark reminder she’s still my younger sibling, which instantly makes me feel…guilty. If her dad found out I not only fucked her when she was eighteen, but was her first, he would kill me. And my mom? She’d be more torn up than this Joey fucker will be once the Kings get their hands on him.
When I was fifteen, my mom was stuck in an abusive relationship with an asshole who was twice my size. I couldn’t do shit to keep him from hitting her, except get smacked around with her. While she never blamed me, I couldn’t help but blame myself for not being bigger or tougher. Which is why I started hitting the weights hard and haven’t let up since.
I don’t want to hurt my mother after the shit she’s been through. Martin makes her happy, and vice versa. So, if I piss off Martin and cause a rift in the family, I’ll be royally pissing her off too.
But the past is the past, and it’s not like they’re going to find out I slept with Zoe while they were gone. It may be only a few awkward days with Zoe here before she leaves again. For all I know, she might not come back for another ten years.
And no matter how much I wish I could follow her, I made an oath to stand with the Savage Kings until I can no longer ride.
Which reminds me…I left my phone in my jeans that are still on the kitchen floor.
“I’ll be right back. You need anything?” I ask on the way out.
“Nope,” she answers. “Just hurry,” she adds with a smile as she brushes off a few Pop-Tart crumbs from her cleavage.
Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.
I’m back in bed in record-breaking time with my phone in hand, checking to make sure I haven’t missed any calls from Roman. I figure it will take a few days at least to get ready, but that’s a call I can’t fucking miss.
“Any news?” Zoe asks and leans over, distracting me with a lick of her tongue around my nipple.
“Not yet,” I answer, tossing my phone on the mattress to grab her and pull her onto my lap so we’re chest to chest. Her knees straddle my waist and both my hands continue squeezing her amazing ass.
“I wish you didn’t have to do this, go after these guys,” she says as she loops her arms around my neck.
“They deserve it,” I grumble.
“I know they do,” Zoe agrees, her lips and tongue greeting the side of my neck, making my dick instantly hard again. “I’m just worried about you.”
“Good,” I choke out as she sucks on my neck hard enough to leave a mark, making me desperate for her mouth to suck on something a little lower. “It’s about time the roles were reversed since I’ve spent the last ten years worried about you.”
I’m a little disappointed when she pulls her mouth free from my neck to look at my face. “You think I didn’t worry about you?”
“Don’t fucking lie,” I warn her. “When you called your dad and my mom, sometimes I was with them, and I know you never asked about me.”
“Because I didn’t want to know if you were with someone!” Zoe exclaims. “I had nightmares about you getting married and having kids with some other woman. I hated her so much…”
“Her? There was no her,” I respond. “Never has been anyone even close to being her. You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted more than a night with, but I can’t have you…”
“Why not?” Zoe asks after I realize I’ve said too fucking much.
“You know why,” I mutter. “You’re my stepsister.”
“So what? It’s not like we’re related.”
“Do you have any idea what your father would do to me if he found out I slept with you all those years ago, when you were still a teenager?”
Zoe pulls back, removing her arms from my neck, and I reluctantly let her ass go so she can sit back on my thighs. “Do you know how many men I had to sleep with to get ahead in my career, to earn a spot on a front cover or a place in a fashion show?”
“No clue. I don’t think I want to know,” I admit through clenched teeth.
“Too many!” Zoe informs me, making me cringe because I hate the thought of her with any other man, much less anyone who bribed her into having sex with him. “Those are the men that I’m ashamed of sleeping with, Winston. Not you. Never you. I may have been pissed with you for the things you said afterward, but I didn’t regret what we did th
at night or what we did on our parents’ kitchen floor fifteen minutes ago.”
“I’m glad you don’t regret it, but that doesn’t make what we’re doing right.”
Being the temptress she is, Zoe cups her own tits and pushes them together, which of course, makes it impossible to look away. “So, does that mean you don’t want to fuck me again?”
“No,” I mutter. “I mean, yes. Fuck. What was the question again?”
I grab her hips and yank her body up my thighs until her pussy is right on top of my hard dick that’s created a bulge in my boxer briefs.
“That’s enough time wasted talking. I’m only here for a few days and I want you,” Zoe says, then presses her mouth to mine and our tongues tease each other before she pulls hers back. Reaching down, she frees my cock from my briefs and then lowers her tight cunt down onto it, causing her to gasp mid-sentence. “You…hurt me back then, Winston. Now, I want you to make me feel good…every day until I leave.”
Fuck, I hate that I hurt her, and that she’s leaving again. Which is why, no matter how goddamn good she feels on my dick, I squeeze her hips and pull her off me.
“W-what?” Zoe asks as I start slouching my way down the bed between her spread legs until my mouth connects with her sweet pussy. “Oh fuck!” she screams and grabs on to the headboard after the first glide of my wet tongue over her slit.
I look up at her face. “I want you to come on my tongue over and over again, until you can’t take any more.”
I don’t deserve more pleasure, not yet. Not until I make Zoe feel so fucking good she forgets I ever hurt her and decides to never leave again.
Chapter Sixteen
Zoe
The last two days with Winston have been insanely good, only getting out of bed to occasionally shower and eat. We’ve talked about random, ridiculous things and fucked every way humanly possible. My only regret is that Winston never gets to finish inside of me because I’m not on the pill and we both hate condoms.
