Stepbrother’s Secret
Page 7
“Sorry,” she breathes, her legs beginning to tremble.
Not in fear, though. In heat. She is in heat.
The evidence wets her inner thighs, makes her nipples tight and pointed, her skin flush.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. Ever,” I say gruffly, standing so I can kiss her pouting mouth. Our tongues meet and I almost drop my phone entirely, my body urging me to throw my stepsister down on the bed and ease the rampant lust inside of me. She’s naked. Pliant. Eager. I’m on the precipice of heaven. But I have to go slow, even though our time is limited. Have to make her first time perfect. So I reluctantly break the kiss and guide her into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
At which point she becomes fascinated with my erection, her eyes running over it greedily, her fingers curling into the bed clothes. And I’m even more depraved than I thought, because I step closer, putting my trapped shaft an inch from her mouth. “You’re going to spend a lot of time trapped under that dick, Cate. It’s going to be responsible for a lot of screaming and whining.” I cup the back of her head, tugging my stepsister’s open, panting mouth up against my bulge. “Better make nice while you can. Give it a kiss.”
Her plump lips come together, kissing my cock through my briefs. Sweetly.
Her hands rise, as if unbidden, tucking into my waistband and towing it down eagerly. Like she can’t wait to discover the prize inside. I groan up at the ceiling as my cock bobs out, coming to rest against her pretty lips. “Fuck yes,” I hiss. “Suck that cock for me, sweetheart.”
Excitement travels through the delicate lines of her body, those angelic lips wrapping around my shaft and sliding down, down, her guileless blue eyes watchful for my reaction. My approval. And I’ll never know how I find the brainpower to raise my phone and take a picture of her lips wrapped around my cock, but I do…and then I drop it to the floor, shuddering through an exhale, my newly freed hand joining the other at the back of her head, guiding her forward, bobbing her virgin mouth up and down my aching dick.
“God yes, baby. That’s what I need. Right there.”
My encouragement causes her lips to grow more enthusiastic, her hands to circle my arousal and pump, pump, pump in time with my hips. Her hair looks so good threaded through my fingers, getting tangled, her eyelids growing heavy, her mouth gaining another quarter inch every time she takes me into that sublime heat. I could stay locked inside her mouth forever, but my balls are starting to quake and I need that pussy.
Knowing I can’t get her pregnant or it would be yet another cause for scandal, I pull a condom from my pants pocket, but she shakes her head. “When Mama took me to the doctor, they put me on the pill.”
“Oh thank God.” I drop the condom. “I don’t want a damn thing between us.”
I need to be inside of Cate so bad that I’m hauling the girl to her feet and pushing her back down on the bed before I know it, coming down on top of her. Our mouths are a mess of tongues, panting, teeth scraping. She’s wild, like I knew she’d be. Begging and clawing for a fuck, even though she’s never had one. Doesn’t know what it feels like. Only that she’s built to get it from me.
“Easy, baby,” I rasp against her lips. “Calm down. Let me get it in.”
“Please,” she whimpers, arching her back, offering me those sweet berry nipples, and I suck them greedily, cock in hand. Jerking myself off against her cunt. Getting my tip as wet as possible before I wedge it into her hole, barking a curse at the impossible tightness.
“It’s going to hurt a little, okay?” I force myself to remain in control, even though I want to slam deep and buck my hips until I no longer have the heavy burden of seed in my sack. She did this to me. She should have to take it. She should get fucked for it. That’s what the devil on my shoulder is whispering in my ear, but no. No, she’s my innocent fairy from the glen. My stepsister. And she deserves the best care. Her care is my job—a job I need. “Shhh, baby. Unclench that little pussy. Relax and let me fill you up.”
She nods at me, blue eyes riveted on mine.
Biting her lip, she loosens just enough that my cock passes another inch, before slamming up against another barrier. “Daddy needs to get it all the way in,” I say hoarsely, my hips set to thrust at the first sign of encouragement. Not yet. Not yet.
“What…what did you say?” Cate whispers.
What did I say?
Did I call myself her Daddy?
I’ve never said anything like that in my life, never even fantasized about it. Definitely not role-playing. And yet, I feel a pulse beat faster between her legs at that word. Her innocent eyes take on an almost drugged quality, her nails turning to claws in my back, making me grunt.
“S-say it again,” she whimpers, shifting under me.
“I’ll say it when you’ve got me deep, little girl.” I snap at her lips, her earlobe. “Where no man has gone and no man, except me, is ever going to go.”
Her thighs flex around me, then drop open, her breath coming faster.
She’s scared, excited, turned on.
“Yes, Tristan.”
I’m hungry. Determined. Overwhelmed by her beauty, her trust. And I have no choice but to look her in the eye and drive forward, groaning at the gentle rip of her hymen, the hot vise-like flesh surrounding me, rippling, squeezing. “Ahhh Christ,” I growl through clenched teeth. “There’s Daddy’s wet, warm girl.”
Cate sobs, but not from pain.
She was hot to fuck before. She’s hotter now.
Her thighs wrap around my hips like vines, her mouth making an O shape. “Oh. Oh lord.” Goddamn right her accent is thick as molasses now. “Hard. Please, Daddy. Fast.”
Christ.
I knew she’d be uninhibited, but this is almost an embarrassment of riches. I’ve got a hot little virgin underneath me and she wants a pounding. She’s begging for it.
Begging for her Daddy to deliver it.
That’s who I’ve wanted to be to her all along, I realize. The man who takes care of her needs, guides her, protects her. And in an almost too realistic twist, our relationship is also a forbidden secret. There’s something twisted about this, but my need for her outweighs everything. Things like morals and judgments aren’t welcome here.
Any control I had vanishes in the blink of an eye. I drop my weight down on top of Cate’s slight body and I fuck her in a beastly way. That’s what this attraction to my stepsister is. A goddamn beast. It’s powerful and raw and ruled by instinct. She screams at the full impact of my cock, hollers for me to give it harder.
Her teeth rip at my shoulder, her nails scraping down my back.
Her heels urge my ass to pump faster.
She’s a horny, little wildcat.
Jesus. Christ. I’m the luckiest son of a bitch alive.
“Go ahead. Bite and kick and screech, little girl. I’m having this pussy. I’m having it all to myself. It’s mine!” I reach back and grab her heels, yanking them up to her ears. Pinning them there. Listening to that tight, sopping slap of cock hitting cunt. “Are you Daddy’s dirty little secret, baby? Are you going to open these obedient thighs for me behind everyone’s backs?”
“Yes. Yes!”
“Goddamn. How am I going to keep my cock out of you for five minutes?” I rock into her roughly. Too rough for a virgin, surely, but she’s mewling, moaning, urging me on with lifts of her hips. “It’s so tight. Such a sweet, slutty little girl. All for me. Only for me.”
I’ve never said words, foul words, to anyone in my life.
Cate needs them, though. Wants them.
She claws me hungrily, enticing me to kiss her—and I do, our tongues battling for entry into each other’s mouths. “Call me that again,” she sobs against my lips, eyes dazed, drunk on pleasure. “S-slutty little girl.”
Oh my God. Magnificent creature.
Already she has no boundaries.
Her trust in me is breathtaking, too. She tells me her needs, her wants, with no hesitation, and I want to reward t
hat impulse. Water it and watch it blossom.
She deserves everything and I’m going to provide.
“That’s what you are, isn’t it?” I breathe into her neck. “Spreading your thighs open for your stepbrother. Tempting me out of my mind.” She’s as pure as the driven snow, but it doesn’t matter. Her needs—now our needs—do. I grasp her jaw hard and bite down on the flesh beneath her ear, fucking into her crudely. “Shameful, slutty little girl.”
Her orgasm is an explosion.
A jagged intake of air is my own warning before she bucks beneath me, her cunt bearing down and milking, milking, milking my shaft, forcing a bellow out of my throat. The pressure around my cock is so exquisite, so torturous, I see nothing. Hear nothing but her cries, thrusting blindly at the source of my pleasure. My obsession. Come burns up the stalk of my sex, filling her like a flood and she’s greedy for it, turning her head and sinking her teeth into my forearm, screaming in her throat, her body clenching violently, muscles spasming.
She wrings me out with her tight body, finally going limp, all flushed, dewy skin and dazed eyes. And just like that, she’s back to being the innocent fairy from the glen, peeking up at me to measure my reaction.
“Cate, my Cate,” I pant, teasing her tongue into a kiss. Rolling us slowly so she’s up against my chest, her naked body twined with mine, sweat drying on our skin and the molested sheets around us. “You’re incredible. And you’re mine. Always.” I tip her chin up, getting lost in the blue of her eyes. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she breathes, resting her cheek on my chest. “Always.”
For the moment, I allow myself to relax.
Because I know I’ll need all of my mental strength for the battle ahead.
Starting tomorrow when everyone else discovers my angel.
When my angel discovers the world beyond…
And all I can ever offer her is secrecy.
Will it be enough?
8
Cate
I’m sitting on the balcony looking up at the stars, thinking about my fireflies, when my phone rings. It startles me, the trilling high notes shooting me to my feet.
When I see the little device dancing around on my coffee table inside, my shoulders relax. I’m never going to get used to having a cell phone. Mama realized pretty quickly that I was too intimidated to answer the thing, so she usually just shows up at the door. Does that mean it’s Tristan? If he’s calling me this late, is something wrong?
Tomorrow night is the big party. My formal introduction into upper crust Connecticut. After a day of dancing instruction, an etiquette lesson and yet another dress fitting, I’ve been instructed to get some beauty sleep. And I think that’s the problem. There’s too much pressure to fall asleep, so here I am. Thinking. Thinking about a lot of things.
Mainly my stepbrother.
What we did in that hotel room yesterday.
My nipples spike inside my tank top, aching so fiercely I have no choice but to reach up and rub them through the white cotton. I can’t seem to go five minutes without a hot flash of yearning tickling me in all the places he touched. I’ve always been curious about the human body and lovemaking, but I never knew it could be so consuming. That it could turn me into a different person. One who bites and scratches and begs. And likes to be called names.
Slutty little girl.
I make a breathless sound and walk back into the apartment, toward the ringing phone. Tristan’s name is right there on the screen, turning my knees to jelly. His voice is right on the other side. Lord, it’s only been a day since I’ve seen him and I miss that voice. Earlier tonight, he was on television, speaking to a man behind a desk. Hundreds of thousands of people were likely watching—but that’s not the same man who sweated atop me, cramming his thickness in to me over and over again. That wasn’t my Daddy.
I’m the only one who knows that man.
And it makes me feel illicit.
Shameful.
I love that feeling…when it comes to pleasure.
I love it.
When Tristan called me his slutty little girl, it shook the bedrock of my femininity. I loved being so tempting that it almost angered him. I loved being the girl with the tight sex he couldn’t help but rut. Forbidden. Dangerous. Bad. The disgrace that comes along with opening my legs for my stepbrother makes me lustful in a way I barely understand.
Out of bed, though…I worry about a different kind of shame.
Regarding who I am. Where I came from.
While I understand the Garners’ reasons for fitting me into a new wardrobe and giving me speech lessons, I don’t think I was so terrible in the first place. Was I? Hartford is beautiful in its own way, and Lord, Tristan is here. But I looked in the mirror tonight while brushing my teeth and I barely recognized the girl staring back at me. It made me nervous.
Makes me wonder if they would want me at all unless I change.
If Tristan would want me.
The phone quiets. A beat passes and it starts ringing again.
Despite the conflict inside me, I couldn’t keep from answering it if I tried.
Daddy is calling.
Pulse tap dancing, I pick up the device, tapping the green button with my finger and holding it up to my ear. “Hi, Tristan.”
His exhale sends a hot shiver down my back. “Sweetheart. I was getting worried.”
“Sorry.” My voice is breathless. “I hate this thing sometimes.”
“The phone?”
“Yes. It steals me right out of my thoughts.”
His laugh is sensual, raspy in my ear. “And what were you thinking about?”
My inner thighs flex and I press them together, but there’s no way to stem the warm rush of moisture that slicks the flesh in between. “A lot of things. My fireflies. The party tomorrow night.” A melting sensation in my belly has me closing my eyes. “You.”
We both let out a slow breath. The admission is like helium seeping out of a balloon. It’s a dropping of pretense. “I’ve thought of you without cease for weeks, Cate.”
A smile teases my lips. “Even while you were on television?”
“Even then. It why I’m outside right now.”
I whirl back around to face the window, as if I’m going to see him standing there. “You’re here? Now?”
“The back of the building in my car. I can’t fucking stay away.” His breath is harsh, labored. “One day without my stepsister and I’m a madman.”
“I miss you, too,” I whisper, my fingertips sliding up and down my belly, body swaying side to side, my blood heating at the possibility of seeing him soon. Having him touch me. Master me. “Are you going to…come up?”
“I was hoping you’d come down.” The pause is thick. “God help me, I’m already taking risks, but…I need to bring you to my home. I need to fuck you in my bed.”
That welcoming slide of shamefulness, the intimate kind, envelops me. This part of our relationship is vital. Compulsory. It’s separate from the shame I feel over my past. Who I was before they swooped in and made me over.
At least, it’s separate for now.
I’m not sure what I’ll do, or how I’ll feel, if it doesn’t stay that way.
At this very second, though, I can do nothing but dance around in a circle. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
With an incessant fluttering of excitement in my tummy, I strip down to my skin and put on a loose, peach-colored, baby doll dress and a pair of sandals. Run a brush through my hair. I throw a change of clothes and my toothbrush into one of the fancy purses mama insisted on, adding some panties as an afterthought. Grabbing my apartment keys on the way out the door, I fairly run down the hallway to the elevator, taking it down while bouncing on the balls of my feet. I’ve never been out the back entrance of the building before, but it’s easy enough to find, marked with a glowing, red exit sign.
On the way to the door, one of the security guards gives me a speculative look from his room full of monit
ors and briefly, I worry about the risk Tristan is taking, but he must know what he’s doing, right? After all, he’s the master of the universe.
I slip through the exit door and find Tristan leaning against a low, silver luxury car. For once, he’s not wearing a suit, but jeans and a black sweater, a baseball cap pulled down low to hide his face. I’d recognize that square jawline anywhere, however, so I hurry in the direction of his car, gasping when he catches me in his arms, lifting me off the ground into a hug.
His rocky exhale stirs my hair, his hold tightening around me. “And just like that, I feel human again.” Strong hands rake down my back, fisting in the hem of my dress. “Let’s get you home before I have you against the side of this car,” he breathes in my ear.
I nod, unable to speak.
He carries me to the passenger side, his breath warming my neck, that huge part of him prodding me. Wanting me. I curl my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and wrap my legs around his waist, making him growl. Earning me several hard thrusts against the door, both of us moaning, grabbing each other, the car groaning as it rocks behind us.
“You’ve ruined me,” Tristan pants, palming my bottom beneath my dress. “I’m being asked questions on live television and all I can hear is the wet, slapping sound your pussy makes when I fuck it.” He slaps my backside, creating a perfect, resonating sting that travels the entire length of me. “Apologize to Daddy.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I wheeze.
When he drops me to my feet against the vehicle, I’m disoriented, aroused—and then he buckles me in protectively, kissing my forehead, and I switch gears yet again, my heart taking precedent. Pumping wildly. He dotes on me one second, manhandles me another, and I love it. I love the unpredictability of him, because it reminds me of the nature that surrounded me growing up. The power and beauty and honesty of it. The lack of pretense or prettiness that defines the rest of his world. I want to go for his wild ride. Never come down.
A moment later, Tristan climbs into the driver’s side and peels out of the rear lane behind my building. He takes the dark streets expertly, his restless energy reaching out and grabbing me across the car. Making my fingers clutch the edge of the leather seat, forcing me to focus on my breathing so I don’t hyperventilate.