Dirty Country Love: A Step-Brother Romance Novella (7 page)

She could feel other people’s eyes burnin’ on them,
watching as they danced together. She was havin’ way too much
fun to be bothered by that, though, and instead she found herself
nearly double over, gigglin’ as he dipped her low and then
pulled her back to his chest.

He felt so warm against her, his power radiating out of him.

All those sculpted muscles put to use making him nimble on his
feet, and able to move her with such effortless grace. Where other
men made a show of attemptin’ to lift their ladies a half foot
or so, Damien hoisted her up over his head as if he was totin’
his own feather-stuffed pillow!

“Like dancin’ with a winged angel,” he declared
with a cheery grin.

She’d have brushed it off as silly flattery, but not from
Damien. He’d never been the type, and instead it made her heart
sing. The music came to a stop, and the band announced they’d
be back in ten minutes.

“Think we can grab a drink?” she asked, her hand on
her heaving chest as she still tried to catch her breath, her
laughter makin’ it near impossible.

“We’d best,” he said, putting a hand on her
lower back and guiding her slowly towards the refreshment stand, “I
don’t want you wearin’ out on me before I get a few more
hours of dancin’ in.”

By the time they stumbled into the farmhouse it was late, and
Britney was definitely stumblin’. Not just figuratively.

She laughed, her head a lil’ light from the spiked punch at
the party, and Damien followed behind. He was cheerful and laughing
too, but as always, he was a rock, keepin’ her steady with his
arm about her as they entered into their old home.

“That was… the finest night I ever did have,”
Damien declared brightly.

Her hair was tousled from the dancin’ and the bike, her
dress a bit wrinkled, but she’d never felt better in her life.
It was like all her cares and worries had just disappeared, and it
was just the two of them, enjoyin’ one another.

There weren’t much better in life than that, and she clung
to him a little tighter. Not just for the stability, but for the
warmth and comfort of his strong body.

“I can’t believe you know how to dance.”

He chuckled deeply and ran a hand back over her hair, brushing it
back and restoring some order to it as he looked down upon her.

“A man’s gotta cut loose and have some fun now and
then, even in the big city,” he said with a bright grin, his
hand resting upon the back of her head as his other palm came to stop
upon her hip. That look of cheerful joy slowly shifting to something
else. “You looked radiant out there. The finest lady in the
whole dance, by far.”

“Damien,” she murmured, her face flushing a bit.

He always had a way of makin’ her feel a little shy, like
she wanted to please him. He always had, even before, when he didn’t
care much for her.

But now, it was easy to make him see her as somethin’ else,
and she wasn’t used to gettin’ what she wanted, not with
him.

His hand on her hip was firm, and she was more aware of it than
ever, the way his fingers pressed into her flesh.

“You’re so different than I remember.”

“Could say the same for you, doll,” he remarked with
that uneven smile of his, brushing a hand through her hair so
tenderly. All that muscle and strength but he touched and held her
with a delicate care not becomin’ of a man of his size. That
is, until his grasp tightened at her hip, his arm goin’ around
her waist and pullin’ her in tighter, showin’ how quick
those thick arms could conjure up so much power.

“I thought I was bein’ a fool… havin’ the
thoughts I did,” he said, his voice husky and deep. “But
then once we was out on that dance floor… two of us movin’
together. Our bodies findin’ their tempo in unison… damn
Britney,” he said with a big intake of breath, lookin’
like he had to restrain himself so hard. “You an’ me just
felt so damn right.”

Her heart was poundin’ so hard against her ribs she wasn’t
sure she’d heard him right. Said the words that she’d
been too afraid to even think, let alone say. He felt for her, really
did.

And even though she knew it wasn’t right, the alcohol and
the high of bein’ with him was makin’ her less able to
control herself.

So instead of pulling away, she pushed into him a bit more. She
focused on the feel of his hand on her waist, his warm, sweet breath
washing over her mouth. He was so damned tempting, she could barely
contain herself.

But then she didn’t have to, because he swept in and kissed
her. His lips pressed to her full pair for what was her first real
romantic kiss. It felt like it happened fast and slow all at once,
and she was dizzy with the experience as he lashed his tongue along
the seam of her lips, and delved in between.

Damien held her tight, his hand at the back of her head as he
squeezed her in his arms, and suckled at her upper lip. That tongue
of his proddin’ and probing her mouth ever so lightly, nudgin’
in just a lil’ bit as he stroked her hair, tangled up the
strands between his digits.

It felt like a fairy tale, like somethin’ that only happened
in the movies. Her mind hummed with happiness, and it’s like
everything was more real and more fantastical all at once. She didn’t
know quite what to make of it, but her shoulders softened and all
that tension she’d been feelin’ since they came home
faded off into the distance.

Her mouth was soft and yielding against his as his fingers worked
their way into her blonde hair, knitting there so gently. And when he
pulled away, his eyes locking with hers, she felt something explosive
between them, as if nothin’ were ever goin’ to be the
same.

His eyes searched hers, seeking permission, and when her mouth
found his for the second time, he pulled her in tighter against his
muscular body.

Those strong hands were no longer still, they roamed up and down
her body, along her figure, over her spine and down to her rear. He
squeezed and rubbed at her, luxuriated in the feel of her feminine
figure.

A low, husky growl of a moan rumbled up from his broad, barrel
chest as he kissed her back deeply, then abruptly — without
breaking their lip lock — he hoisted her up in the palm of his
hand, cupping her rear as he lifted her with effortless ease.

Part of it was the wrongness, the feeling that they should
definitely not be holding and touching one another the way they were.
It created a tempest within her, making her yearn for it all the
more, to break away from social expectations and just give in.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him so close, the pads
of her fingers rubbing up along his scalp.

She brushed her delicate digits through his dark hair as their
lips smacked, and he squeezed her ass through her light summer dress.

Damien held her up with ease, her weight no impediment or strain
for his thick, muscular arms, and he carried her over towards the
couch, letting her fall down upon it as his bulky form remained
poised over her.

The beat of his strong heart thudded heavily, travelling through
their adjoining chests, through her heaving bosom. He slid a hand up
her side, slowly making its way toward her breast, until his hungry
hand was closing about that mound, feeling the soft yet supple flesh
through the fabric.

She’d never been kissed, and certainly never been touched
like that. She thought her entire body would just turn to molten fire
with how intense it was, and her back arched so that he could more
fully cup her chest.

It was unlike anythin’ she’d ever experienced,
certainly more intense than touching it herself, and she let out a
soft whimper of desire.

Where she was lackin’ in experience, she made up for in pure
instinct. Because her body responded of its own accord, twisting and
shaping to meet his demanding grasps, warm and moistening as the
grind of his thick, hard bulge against her signalled just how much
the fires of his loins had grown.

He was ravenous for her, and she had nothin’ to go on but
lettin’ her mind drift and her instincts take over. Thinkin’
about it would be death to the whole moment, insecurities and doubts
would creep in about it all, and whether it was right or safe or
wise. But it just felt so damn good to have his big, hard body
pressed upon her, to feel his desire manifested through his deep,
passionate kisses, his hard, throbbing cock.

His mouth found the hollow of her throat, his nose pushing away
her fine, blonde hair. He smelled so good and clean from the fresh
night air, the slightest bit of chill from the motorcycle ride over
still lingerin’ on the parts of him that weren’t pressed
against her.

Her hand ran over his back, holding him closer, cravin’ that
full body connection.

“Damien,” she cooed out, pleasure lacing his name.

The way she said his name elicited a growl from deep within his
chest, a low rumbling that hinted at the bestial nature of his lusts
and desires for her. He was a man — all man then — his
desire for her so overwhelming it compelled him to kiss, bite and
lick at her sensitive neck, to grope at her perky breasts and feel
out her body.

Those greedy hands roamed over her taut tummy, tugged her dress up
with his rampant, reckless fondling. His muscles bulged and quaked
with repressed strength, as he kept his power in check as best he
could. He was a rampaging bull and she was a delicate bird.

Her panties were stuck to her skin with her wetness, her milky
thighs parting naturally for him. It wasn’t anything she knew
or understood, it was just nature takin’ over her form as she
submit to what felt right.

Damien took his cue without missin’ a beat, their two bodies
workin’ in concert, actin’ on pure animal drive as they
mingled and writhed together. That thick, hard bulge was pressed in
against her, grindin’ upon her slick slit, pressing through his
pants and her panties as her dress skirt was pulled up to her hips
with their motions.

“Britney,” he growled aloud, his voice growling and
rough, like the beast that she knew dwelt within him. The one she’d
seen unleashed that day in a pre-emptive defense of her.

The one that scared and excited her.

She ground against his hardness, the sensation sending sparks
behind her eyes and making her feel more needy than she’d ever
been before. Her mouth went to his, her tongue pressing in, desperate
for that connection.

Their kiss was pure passion, sat dormant for so long and suddenly
set to erupt.

That rough, strong hand of his slid back down her figure, past her
hips and over her smooth, bare thigh. He squeezed and stroked her
soft skin, let his fingers roam up to toy with her panties, touchin’
upon the frilly white fabric, then lettin’ his thumb trail
brazenly in towards her womanhood.

He was molten metal, hard and hot as he pressed up on her, kissing
and biting at her flesh, up to her ear then back down her neck again.
He stroked his thumb along her most sensitive of places, pressed upon
her clit through the thin fabric of her underthings as he growled her
name yet again.

She shuddered as if he’d just found a secret within her that
opened her up to new sensations, and her body writhed with need. She
was breathing so quick she thought she might pass out, but every
single touch of his hands and mouth and cock reawakened her to
sensation.

“Damien,” she cooed in time with him, their rhythm on
the couch even more in step than on the dance floor.

As he toyed with her through her panties, then began to push his
digit in beneath the garment, she grew worried he’d have to
part from her long enough to get their clothes off. But he didn’t
waste time with that, he pulled her panties to the side with a rough
tug, then let the pad of his thumb trail slowly down her glistening
slit.

He gave a deep, guttural groan of excited lust at the feel of her
pink petals, so anxious to experience her as he made her quiver and
moan.

It was so intense that just the touch of his fingers made her cry
out in ecstasy, and he stopped for a moment to look down at her.

Her eyes fluttered open as he paused, her mouth parted before her
entire body grew warmer.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never...”

His dark gaze stared into her, pausing in the moment as she lay
before him and his passions flared. He swallowed, and very gently
returned his thumb to her puffy pussy.

“I want to be your first,” he declared in a low,
gravelly voice. He didn’t return to that sensitive clit, but
skirted around it, gingerly stoking her flames as he stared down into
her soul. “But I’ll stop if you say so right now.”

For a moment she was horrified of the idea, and her head shook
hard, the back of her hair getting tousled by the sofa. “It’s
not that! I want... I want you to be my first. I just don’t
know what to do.”

His expression softened, that hard, rugged face looking warm and
loving. He leaned in and took hold of her chin between his fingers
delicately, tilting her face as he gave her a warm, moist kiss,
letting his tongue probe her mouth again.

When at last their lips broke apart, he spoke in a husky drawl.

“Leave everythin’ to me, Britney,” he said
simply, and she heard him reach to his waist, his belt jangling as he
kissed her again, his pants lowering. Then, from the corner of her
eye as she tilted her head, she could see his brief’s sliding
down, and a thick, rock-hard slab of veiny cock just sprang free of
its tight confines. Pulsating with such fiery desire.

It was... magnificent. She’d never seen nothin’ like
it, and she couldn’t help but feel this strong need for it,
deep within her belly. It was like her entire core was on fire, and
with every motion he made, every action, he brought her to a higher
plane of existence.

Damien’s big hands stroked over her sides, up to her
shoulders, carefully pulling down the straps of her dress and bra. He
cupped her two breasts once more, reaching in under the material of
her brazier and kneaded the flesh, avoiding the sensitive, stiff
nipples but rubbing and stroking around them.