Stepbrother Master (8 page)

I slipped a finger between her pussy lips and teased her clit. I fought the urge to grind my cock into her ass and seek my own relief.
Soon,
I promised myself.
Soon
. I teased her until she writhed against my hand, her moans and whimpers not helping my self-control. When she was teetering on the edge of orgasm, I removed my hand.

“Please—”

“Don’t beg, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you need.” 

I reached down into the bag and grabbed the lube. Emma stiffened and lifted slightly when the cool, sticky substance trickled down her crack. I lowered my free hand to the small of her back.

“If you don’t want this, you know what to say, Emma. Otherwise, I’m going to play with this sweet little asshole of yours, before I fill it up and fuck you.”

Her hips bucked against the seat of the ATV, and I would’ve given anything to have my cock inside her at that moment because I could guarantee that her pussy muscles would’ve clamped down on it so damn hard. But then again, maybe it was a good thing I wasn’t inside her because I probably would’ve blown my load right then. I circled her tight little pucker and pressed gently.

Emma froze.

“Now don’t do that, sweetheart. You knew this wasn’t off limits, and there’s no way in hell I can keep away from this perfect ass.” I cupped one cheek and stroked it with my thumb. “But don’t worry.” I pressed harder, until the slick ring of muscle gave way to my finger. “My cock is still going in that tight little pussy of yours. You’ll make do with a plug until I get you stretched out enough to take me.” The clench of the muscle tried to keep me out, but I wasn’t about to let it win. “Just relax for me, Emma. I’m getting you nice and ready for your plug. You’ll get used to wearing it until you’re ready to take me.” Her hips began to move again, and I reached around to tease her clit with my other hand. Sure enough, her pussy was still soaked and needy. I spent several moments fucking her ass with my finger while I stroked her clit and once again brought her to the brink. She was begging and pleading to come by the time I stepped away to grab the plug and lubed it up. I pressed it against her ass.

“Press back against it, sweetheart. Show me how good you can be, and then I’ll give you that mind-blowing orgasm I know you want.”

Hesitantly at first, and then with more confidence, Emma pushed against the plug. I added pressure and eased it past the taut ring of muscle until it slipped inside and caught at the flared base.

“Oh my God.” She breathed.

“You feel full, sweetheart?”

“Yes, oh my God,” she repeated.

“You still good?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Give me the word, Emma.”

“Yes. I’m good.”

“Good girl. Because you’re about to feel even more full.” I reached into my pocket, retrieved a condom, and tore it open with my teeth, never removing the thumb of my left hand from the base of the plug. I needed to keep the continuous connection to her while she was in this vulnerable position. I rolled the condom on one-handed and positioned myself at her entrance. Once the head of my cock was notched against the heat of her pussy, I began to slide forward.

“
Fuuuuck.”
I groaned. She was so goddamn tight with the plug in her ass, I was glad I’d picked a small one. My dick barely fit in her pussy—something to consider for next time, because this might be the best and shortest fuck of my life. I forced myself to go slowly, to savor the clench of her body and the tremors rippling through her. Emma’s moans jacked up my own pleasure degree by degree. Reaching around, I found her clit with two fingers of my right hand and strummed.

“Ford. Please. Oh my God. I’m going to—”

“Already?” I couldn’t keep the chuckle out of my own voice.

“
Please.”
She moaned.

I pressed down on her clit and increased my pace, keeping my thrusts smooth and steady—at least until her body bore down, practically strangling my cock. 

“Holy shit!” Her scream echoed across the acres and acres of rolling hills and meadows, followed by my groan of pleasure as my orgasm burst from my balls and I emptied myself inside the condom.

My last thought before I caught myself on the seat of the ATV was:
I wish there had been nothing between us
.

On our last night alone together, after-dinner drinks had quickly turned into making out on the couch like teenagers. I pulled away just long enough to gasp, “How about some, um ... hard spanking tonight? You know. With a paddle.”

Ford's change in expression was subtle; he didn't even let me up from where he had me pinned. But I could hear his delighted surprise as he said, “You didn't seem keen when I first put that idea on the table.”

“I kind of wasn't,” I admitted. I hadn't freaked out or anything, just paused so long that Ford had changed the subject. “But then I just … couldn't stop thinking about it.” I bit my lip, smiling. “Especially when I was alone in bed.” Just the thought of being at Ford’s mercy, and the sting of the paddle, still made my mouth go dry. Now, though, I knew it was from excitement rather than fear. And with our parents due back tomorrow morning, I couldn't resist indulging in submission—in Ford's masterful touch—one last time.

If the speed at which he'd dragged me upstairs was any hint, Ford felt the same way.

Now I lay facedown on his sheets, breathing in his unique scent of sweat and soap, blind except for a sliver of light at the bottom of my vision. My wrists and ankles were cuffed to the bedposts. I had been waiting for Ford to finish his preparations for ten minutes now, maybe fifteen—it was hard to keep track while blindfolded. My dark world was full of sensation, attuned to every noise, smell, and stray air current ghosting over my skin. Knowing Ford, he was taking his time on purpose, letting me build myself up into a frenzy of anticipation. It was definitely working; I shifted against my restraints and felt slickness already spreading between my legs.

The doorknob finally turned. Bare feet padded softly over to the bed. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir.” Before he could ask, I added, “And my safe word is pink.”

He chuckled. “Good girl.” One finger tickled my nape and slowly stroked down my spine, lingering at the small of my back. I shivered, tensing up. Was he going to shove that finger into my pussy—or maybe my ass? I hadn't forgotten our day out by the overlook. He squeezed my butt cheek hard and I squeaked.

“You're jumpy tonight, sweetheart.” He paused. “You know, we can do something else. Kinky sex isn't like reciting the alphabet—you don't have to go on to XYZ just because you've done ABC. There's no point if you don't enjoy yourself.”

I shook my head. “I know. But I … want to find out what it's like. What that woman in the tack room was feeling.”

An indrawn breath. “Damn, Emma,” he said. His voice had gone husky. “You've taken to this stuff like a duck to water. I've never seen anyone move so fast.”

“What can I say? I have a good teacher.” I wiggled my hips in his direction. “Now start spanking already.”

He gave a little huff of laughter. “With that tone of voice, young lady, I think I'll have to.” I heard a noise of wood on flesh. I realized that he had slapped the paddle into his hand so that I could hear its force. “But first … I think I'll warm you up. Lift your hips.”

Warm plastic nudged at my soaking pussy. I hurried to obey his order. The dildo slid in easily, despite its girth, but its length seemed to go on and on, until I felt even fuller than I did with Ford's huge cock. A curved, flattened nub at the base fit snugly against my clit. He groped around for a second, and I whimpered when the dildo started vibrating. God bless a man who owns a vibrating dildo for his woman’s pleasure. If this wasn’t love, it was damn close.

His hands left my pussy and settled on my ass again, kneading the soft skin until it warmed and tingled. I tried not to squirm. The vibrator was perfectly tuned—just enough stimulation to drive me insane, but never actually get me off. Distracted, I wasn't ready for his first spank.

Smack.
I jerked forward, my mouth opening. The blow had nudged the vibrator against my clit and G-spot. My left cheek burned with the paradox of pleasure and pain that I'd become addicted to.
Smack
.
Smack
.  A moan burst from deep in my chest. At this rate, I was going to come before we ever got to the fun part. But that didn't matter—Ford could wring one orgasm after another from me. Even alone, I'd never come so many times in a row as I did with him. Just the knowledge that he was nearby made me ready for action.

After a half dozen spanks on each cheek, I was a shuddering mess. My ass was on fire. My thighs were slick with sweat and my own juices.

“Such a good girl.” Ford purred. “Are you ready for the hard stuff?”

“Yes, sir. Please.” I moaned. I forced myself to relax just as the paddle came whistling down. It cracked over both butt cheeks at once.

Holy mother of God.
He had spanked me with his hand plenty of times, but this was on a whole other level. Tears sprang to my eyes and I bit my lip. But the painful heat spreading over my ass blended with the heat of pleasure in my pussy and clit, mingling until I couldn't tell which was which. Ford waited just long enough to let the fire die back a little, then struck again. And again. Each blow came faster than the last.

Suddenly all shame fell away. I writhed, grinding against the bed, greedy for whatever sensation I could grab. Behind me, Ford's breath came in grunts of exertion and arousal. I was losing my mind. I wanted him inside me and I wanted him to keep spanking me.  I had been kept on the edge for what felt like years and one more touch, one more burning slap, one more
anything,
would toss me over.

The vibrator ground hard, and I screamed into the sheets, sobbing Ford's name. A crash—the paddle hitting the hardwood floor. The bed dipped and a sweaty, muscled body molded itself to mine. His heart beat a wild tattoo on my back. He yanked the vibrator out and filled the sudden emptiness with his cock. I yelped even as I arched into him, unbearably sensitive yet hungry for more. My second orgasm was already building right on the heels of the first. His savage, punishing thrusts coiled the pit of my belly tighter and tighter. His hips slapped against my sore ass, sending shocks of pleasure-pain through me. With a growl, he bit into the crook of my neck, and my whole body spasmed apart again as his cock pulsed inside me.

I felt an odd loss when he pulled away to untie my limbs. And the scariest thing was I knew my experiences with him had ruined me for other men. Vanilla sex would no longer hold a candle to the wicked things Ford had shown my body. The blindfold slithered off my eyes and I blinked at the sudden brightness. “Can you talk yet?” Ford asked, searching my face.

I opened my mouth to say
of course I can
—and found that I couldn't. My eyes went wide.
Wow.
I'd had no idea that anything could be so intense.

Mistaking my amazement for panic, Ford stroked my hair. “Ssh, it's okay. Just rest.” A trace of that hypnotic Dom note still lingered in his voice. He sat back against the headboard and gathered me close to his side. Without moving the arm that held me, he leaned over to grab a water bottle from the bedside table. “Can you drink? Or should I hold it for you?”

The idea had a certain appeal, but my pride won out. I nodded and took the bottle from him. When the water touched my tongue, I realized that I was dying of thirst. Soon I had gulped down half the bottle. I passed it back to him and he replaced it on the table. “You want something to eat?” he asked.

“Mm … no,” I mumbled, snuggling back against his warm body. “Jus' tired.”

Ford chuckled. “Yeah, I bet. You got the daylights spanked out of you.” He looked down at me, his expression possessive and almost affectionate. Or was that just my wishful thinking? Not having the energy to puzzle over it, I turned away to rest my flushed face on his abs.

“You were amazing, sweetheart,” he continued after a minute. I felt the vibrations of his deep voice on my cheek. “At the risk of spoiling you, I'm impressed.”

A sigh of contentment escaped me. His fingers slid through my hair again, then moved on to petting my back as if I were a cat—long, broad strokes that were soothing rather than exciting. My head rose and fell with his slow breaths.

I didn't mean to stay. But I felt so drained, and his caresses were so gentle … I was asleep before I knew it.

* * *

The next morning, we wolfed down a pair of huge omelets
—
we were both starving after last night's exercise. Afterward, though, we dawdled with our coffee together. My whole lower body was pleasantly sore, and I still felt the bite mark where Ford had claimed me as his.

Somehow my head had come to rest on Ford's shoulder. Just like the night before, he didn't move me. But at the crunch of tires on the dirt road, his body stiffened, and my head dropped.

“What?” I asked, annoyed at losing my pillow. “It's just a truck.”

“They're back.”

Oh, shit. I hadn't learned to read the sounds of the ranch yet. Ford could tell the different trucks apart … or maybe he knew that the hands wouldn't normally pull up so close to the house. I quickly got up from the table.

A few minutes later, three familiar voices floated in, and our parents piled through the front door with Celeste. Apparently, they had picked her up from her cruise on their flight back.

As I hugged Mom and greeted Russ, Ford slipped past them without a word. He returned with the rest of their luggage and started carrying it to their rooms. It was a great excuse to bail, but I wished he hadn't left me without backup. My eyes strayed to his jeans and the way they hugged his ass perfectly as he climbed the stairs.
Then again, maybe it's best if we don't stay too close.

“Whew!” Celeste said. “I'll make you guys some lunch, and then I gotta lie down. This jet lag is killing me.”

“We just had breakfast, thanks,” I said.

“You did? At this hour?” Celeste glanced at the clock on the wall.

Mom tutted. “You don't have to make us anything. I can manage until you've had a rest.”

Celeste flapped her hand. “It's just a few sandwiches.”

“Let her do her job, dear.” Russ was bent over, unlacing his boots.

I frowned as Celeste bustled into the kitchen. It would be one thing if she genuinely wanted to feed us. But she made such a big deal out of how run-down she felt, then wouldn't let us help. Like all she wanted was to be seen as a martyr.

Whatever.
I turned my attention back to Mom. “How was your trip?”

“The resort was amazing!” she replied. “There was a spa, a five-star restaurant … you could just about live there.”

Ford came back to the foyer as Mom continued, “Russ won't tell me how much anything cost, but it must have been a fortune! The nightly rate, all the dinners and vineyard tours and goodness knows what else.” She gave Russ an affectionate smile. “I guess he doesn't worry about that kind of thing.”

“Neither should you,” Russ replied. “What's mine is yours now, remember?”

Mom chuckled. “I suppose that'll take some getting used to.”

A line appeared on Ford's brow. Wondering what his problem was, I interrupted. “As cool as the resort property sounds, I care more about you guys. Did you have fun?”

“Oh, yes!” Mom said. “Every morning they put a little basket of fresh pastries on your doorstep so you could have breakfast whenever you wanted. It was the cutest thing. During the day we played croquet and tennis, went hiking … and wine tasting, of course. And our cottage had a private deck where we could watch the sunset.”

There she goes, gushing about the amenities again.
But I knew how she felt. I was still getting used to how insanely rich the Bennetts were. After living on a fairly strict budget for so long, Mom was blown away by the luxuries Russ could afford without even blinking.

“Or try to watch, anyway,” Russ commented. “Can't hardly see the horizon with so many dang trees. Northern California is beautiful, but I think living on this ranch has made me a Montana man for good.”

“Come on, dear, it's not so bad to get off the prairie. That rainy day was a great excuse to snuggle by the fire,” Mom teased. Russ just laughed and kissed her.

Aaand that's my cue.
There was only so much I wanted to hear about the private aspects of their honeymoon. But before I could politely excuse myself, Mom turned back to us. “And what did you kids do all week? I hope you kept yourselves entertained.”

My stomach dropped into my sandals. Ford and I had entertained ourselves, all right … in the hot tub, his bedroom, the back woods, the horse barn, and practically every room of the house. “We, uh, didn't do much,” I stuttered. My face felt warm. Was I blushing? Could they see it?
Say something, dammit!

Ford interrupted, his voice perfectly smooth. “Sure we did. I took Emma horseback riding along some of the ranch's main trails. The cow ponies loved her. For someone who'd never ridden before, she's pretty good at it.”

Don't laugh
, I repeated to myself.

“Well, is that so?” Russ said. “We ought to go out sometime as a family, now that Ford's shown you the ropes.”

Don't. Fucking. Laugh.

Ford actually cracked a smile. “I whipped her into shape with some vigorous exercise. We also took the ATVs to the forest overlook for a picnic.” Right, that picnic. With its basket full of very special goodies. Suddenly Ford cocked an eyebrow at me. “We had ourselves a race, didn't we?”