Stepbrother Studs: Taboo A-Z Boxed Set Volume 2: A Stepbrother Romance Bundle (Stepbrother Studs Boxed Sets) (6 page)

Evan pulled the pillow from her face and gathered her down to him.  Tears ran down her cheeks and she shivered, goose bumps covering her arms and legs as he kissed her quiet. 

No words exchanged, only tiny head nods and eyes locked on each other. 

He kissed her.  She let him drink her in, her tongue tasting her own juices. 

“I need you, Faye.”  His confession was soft, like his fingers on her cheek.  “I need to be in you.” 

“Yes.”  She nodded, gathering her strength—her knees were still weak and shaky—rolling onto him to straddle him in the moonlight. 

Faye angled his staff until it started to enter her pussy.  She was soaking wet, it should have been easy, but it wasn’t. 

A quick gasp soon became a stifled scream.  Faye was no shrinking virgin, but she had never had a cock this big before.  Even a slow insertion felt like threading a needle with a baseball bat. 
Any longer and he’d puncture my lungs,
Faye thought, biting her lip to keep in the sound.  Evan's cock felt like a third limb or some kind of meaty telephone pole inside her, and she knew now why all those women had wanted her stepbrother in their bed. 

But the size of his cock was nothing to the way he could use it, she discovered in the next moment as he began to move inside her.  He held her still with his hand on her hips, forcing her up to her knees to give him room to thrust.  And thrust he did!  Faye grabbed the edge of the windowsill on one side, his night table on the other, as her brother worked his shaft into her pussy. 

Slow at first, short strokes, a tease.  Maddening.  She whimpered and tried to thrust back, but he held her fast.  He was in control.  This was his show.  His breath came faster, and so did hers.  She started to sweat, the breeze over her damp skin making her shiver. 

“Evan, please,” she whispered, trying to grind on him, wanting something in contact with her aching, throbbing clit.  He was so big, but he was gliding in and out easily now.  “Oh God, please, more, please!”

“More?”  He gave her a long stroke, tip to base, burying himself deep.  She moaned and swayed.  “More?”  he asked again, giving her another long stroke, then another, and another, base to tip, again and again.  “Like that?” 

“Fuck,” she whispered, her nipples so hard they hurt.  Her pussy throbbed, clenching his shaft, feeling the crown of his cock rubbing deep inside her.  “Oh Evan, fuck me.  Oh please, fuck me!” 

“No.”  His hands moved from her hips to her breasts, teasing her nipples.  They were tender from his earlier attention, but she moaned anyone.  “You fuck me.”

“Me?”  She settled herself on him, bringing her hands to the hard, ridged slope of his stomach.  It was damp with sweat, his lower belly slick with her juices.  “Oh Evan, your fucking cock is so good.” 

“So I’ve been told.”

“Bastard.”  She narrowed her eyes at him, leaning over his chest, hands on his shoulders as she started to move.  “This is my cock.  Mine.  You hear me?” 

“Is that so?”  His hands slipped down her sides, over her ribcage.  His eyes met hers, a smirk rising on his lips. 

“Very so.”  She planted a kiss on his mouth, raking her teeth over his lower lip as she ground her pussy down over his cock, working herself into the saddle of his hips.  His cock shifted inside her, impossibly huge.  She could have sworn she could taste the damned thing at the back of her throat.  “Just so.” 

She grabbed his arms, putting them over his head, holding his wrists as she rode him.  He watched her for a moment through half-closed eyes and she felt his cock swelling inside of her.  Fuck, was that even possible?  The slick sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room as she kissed him, drawing his tongue into her mouth, sucking on it. 

“Whose cock is this again?”  he asked when her mouth slipped off his and she buried her face against his neck.  She was still gripping his wrists, but her pussy felt so good impaled on his length she thought she just might pass out, and he was taking control again, moving inside her, doing all the work.  He kept up a maddening pace. 

“Mine,” she panted, biting her lip when she felt his hips move up hard, giving her even more of his impossible length. 

“And you want it?”  he prompted.  Hands still over his head, she had his wrists, but it didn’t matter.  He was fucking her from underneath.  “You want me to fuck you with it?  You want me to fuck your little pussy with this cock until you come all over it?  Is that what you want?” 

“Oh Evan,” she gasped, her thighs spread wide, taut, trembling. 

“I think that’s what you want.  Tell me, Faye.  Tell me.”

“Yesssss,” she hissed in his ear, her hand tightening on his wrists, holding him down hard, but there was no holding this man.  He drove her wild, and she begged him, frantic, breathless.  “I want it.  I want you.  I want you to fuck me, Evan.  Please, please, fucking please, I’m begging you, please fuck me—”

He grabbed and rolled her, twisting her around so her back was to the mattress and he was on top of her.  Evan kissed her hard once, their tongues entwined again.  Then he buried his face in her neck and curled around her to increase the ferocity of his thrusts.  She prayed no one would hear the bed squeaking, the way it moved against the wall as he pounded into her, hammering away at her pussy, the sensation driving her mad with need. 

Faye felt her body wanting to break apart, split in half. 

And then she did. 

Everything exploded. 

She’d never orgasmed with a cock inside her, not a real one.  Tongues, fingers, vibrators, rubbing herself off against pillows, even the shower massage, but she’d never had a man inside her when she came before, and it blew her apart.  She grabbed the pillow Evan had tossed aside and covered her face with it as she screamed.  She couldn’t not scream—it burst from her the same way her orgasm rolled through, bright, hot and sharp, like a thousand shards of light piercing her from the inside out. 

Evan grabbed the pillow and threw it, growling a warning into her mouth, shoving his tongue between her lips, fucking her with that too, as he impaled her again and again with the relentless instrument between his legs.  But just before he came, with a modicum of control she didn’t think humanly possible, he withdrew his engorged cock. 

Faye gasped as he propped himself over her with one arm, grabbing her hand with the other and putting it on him.  She moaned softly as she watched him thrust hard into her pumping fist, shooting the first giant wave of his cum onto her belly.  He christened her hotly with his semen, wave after wave of the stuff.  Just when she thought she’d wrung the last bit from him, another sticky white band stripped her flesh. 

“Holy hell,” he whispered, almost losing balance on the bed before a free hand caught the windowsill. 

Faye stared at herself, her stomach and pelvis covered in cum.  She glittered in the moonlight and smiled.  She could smell the sweet, salty gift her stepbrother had given her and her fingers played in it as Evan tried to catch his breath, still propped over her. 

“Oh my God, you're still hard,” Faye breathed, incredulous, feeling his length, still throbbing in her hand. 

“I can come again,” he confessed, blowing a damp strand of dark hair out of his eyes. 

“You can not,” she whispered, feeling him pulsing in her fist.  “Can you really?” 

“Suck it and see.”  He grinned. 

“Fuck yes.  Come up here.”  She jerked him, leading him with his hard cock.  “Your little sister wants to finish you off.”

Evan slid up the bed toward Faye's open mouth. 

He groaned as she cleaned off his rock hard shaft.  Her tongue licked the entire length and then took his balls in her mouth.  Her mouth and hands worked in harmony when she pumped his cock and licked the velvety swollen goodness of his cockhead.  Then she took him in her mouth and with sisterly diligence worked hard to swallow his length.  Which wasn’t easy. 

But he hadn’t been kidding.  It wasn’t that long before he was making that low growly sound in the back of his throat, thrusting faster into her hand and mouth. 

“Yes, Evan, give it to me,” she gasped, pumping him in her fist and opening her mouth, an invitation.  She stuck out her tongue, making a cup of it under the head of his cock, and he gave a little cry, giving her what she’d asked for.  Moaning, she drowned in his cum, managing to swallow most of it, but stray strands fell across her cheek and a couple strings trailed down to her neck and collarbone. 

Before she could gulp down the last drops of his seed, Evan crawled next to her in bed, his hot body pressed against hers. 

She tasted his tongue again, then felt his strong hands cradle her ass as he twined their legs together, pulling the sheet up to cover them both.  Faye dozed.  She didn’t know how long.  When she woke again, he was fucking her.  He was inside her and they were rocking.  She was in his arms, and that was all that mattered.  She came again that way, her pussy blooming over the head of his cock again and again.  She lost count of how many times.  By the time the sun began to peek up between the trees outside Evan's bedroom, light gradually filling the room, she was completely full of him, in every possible way. 

“You really don’t hate me, Faye?”  He whispered this against her temple.  Their bodies were stuck together.  She didn’t know where she ended and he began. 

“I love you, Evan.”  She lifted her face to look at him in the early morning light.  “And I meant what I said.  You’re mine.  I won’t share you.  With anyone.” 

“I heard you.”  His arm encircled her, squeezing.  “Do you think I could possibly be with anyone else now?” 

“I’m just saying.”  She snuggled in, smiling, closing her eyes.  She was exhausted, and she’d never felt more alive. 

“Faye...” He took a deep breath, scenting her hair.  “I’m going to take you away.”

“Away?”  She nodded, still smiling, not opening her heavy eyelids.  “Okay.  Where?” 

“Wherever you want to go.”  He swallowed.  “I’ve got a lot of money saved.  I mean...  a lot.”

“A lot?”  She opened one eye, frowning.  She knew how he’d earned that money and the thought filled her with jealousy.  “How much is a lot?” 

“Enough.”  His arms tightened.  “We can get a place together.  I’ll find a job.”

“A real job,” she warned.  “No more MILFs.” 

“Yes, a real job.”  He chuckled.  “I’ll take care of you, Faye.  Haven’t I always?” 

“Yes.”  She realized it was true. 

Even as the light crept in with the weight of reality, it didn’t matter.  Their parents would be awake soon, too, and that didn’t matter either.  Because their parents both got up together long before Faye’s alarm went off.  They let her sleep, trusting her brother would get her up and off to school.  And he did.  Every day. 

His father would drop her mother off at the dentist’s office, where she worked as an assistant, and then drive into his accounting office a few miles away.  They’d reverse that on the way home.  And sometimes meet for lunch.  Lather, rinse, repeat.  Faye had never realized, until that moment, how incidental she and Evan were in their lives. 

It had always been Evan, who was there for her, taking care of her, protecting her. 

“So where do you want to go?”  he asked, tucking her head under his chin.  His heart was strong and steady and she reveled in the sound.  “Anywhere you want.  California.  New York.  Texas.  Fuck, we could even go to Europe.” 

She didn’t want to think about how much money he must have saved, how he’d earned it.  That part of his life was over now.  No more empty.  No more broken.  They were going to put it all back together, the two of them. 

“It doesn’t matter.”  She smiled in the new light of dawn, on the most perfect day of her life.  “Anywhere you are is home.” 

Molly’s handsome stepbrother, Finn, has called her Pita—short for pain in the ass—for so long, she’s almost forgotten her own name. 

And, she has to admit, she’s mostly lived up to it, because Finn is a typical, know-it-all, overprotective older stepbrother who thinks he always knows what’s best for her. 

But when she finds his journal and reads the secrets he’s been keeping, she suddenly has a decision to make. 

They have one week alone at a cabin together this summer—can she make Finn realize that, this time, his little stepsister knows what’s best?  For once, she knows what she wants—and now she knows he wants it too. 

Does she have the courage to push him to his limits? 

I inched aside the curtain to watch Finn park and pull a backpack and his fishing gear from his SUV.  Other than the fact his hair was little longer than it had been at Christmas, he looked exactly the same—sun-streaked brown hair, blue eyes beneath a heavy brow, and a square jaw with a cute little dimple in the center. 

I lingered, staring at that dimple.  When I’d been seven and first met him, I’d told him he had a “butt chin.”  But it was a feature that had grown more attractive to me the older I got.  Not that I’d ever told him.  I’d have died before admitting how much I liked it
and him
, especially after he’d nicknamed me Pita—Pain-in-the-ass.  A name that had, unfortunately, stuck to me like glue. 

I spied on him a little too long.  His long legs ate up the distance between the gravel drive and the cabin.  Before he stepped onto the porch, I raced through the open living area and down the hallway toward the bathroom where I’d left the shower running.  I wasn’t ready to greet him.  Not when my plans were still a messy jumble in my head.  I’d spent months agonizing over what to do with what I’d found hidden inside a hollow in a tree beside the river.  Months where I’d memorized every shocking word I’d read in Finn’s journal. 

I caught Pita sunbathing topless on the boat dock.  I should have backed away or made a noise to let her know I was there, but I couldn’t help staring.  Her nipples looked so soft, and the tips stood up like pencil erasers.  I wondered what they’d feel like against my tongue... 

Passages flitted through my mind as I ran.  I knew it was wrong to take the notebook with his name markered on the top.  I’d taken it the last time all the family had been here at Christmas.  He’d snuck away, something that aroused my curiosity, and I’d followed through the woods to the river.  I knew he’d meant to keep the book private by the way he’d hidden it.  But I’d wondered what secrets he might be keeping, and whether I’d uncover something I could use to blackmail him into being my summer slave.  Instead, I was the one captured. 

Every vacation, I find it harder and harder to play the big brother when all I really want to do is strip her down and run my hands over every inch of her skin.  Is she soft?  Will she get wet when I stroke her pussy?  If I push a finger inside her, will she moan like she does over rocky road ice cream?  It’s killing me to be around her and not touch her the way I want to. 

I entered the bathroom and closed the door, sinking my head against solid wood.  I didn’t have a plan.  Didn’t know what I really wanted.  No, that wasn’t quite true. 

I wanted to know whether he still felt the same way.  With his footsteps tromping through the living room, I made a sudden decision.  I could angst like Bella mooning over Edward and waste the entire week we’d spend alone wondering, or I could do something bold.  Either he’d take the bait and I’d know, or he’d slink into his room and pretend he didn’t see... 

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? 

I opened the bathroom door, then quickly stripped, dropping my pants, shirt and undies in a little trail leading to the glassed-in shower.  There, I flipped the lever to hot and stepped in despite the fact the water was still cold.  I picked up a cloth and lathered it up, turned so that he’d see me in profile, and began to stroke the cloth over my breasts, lingering over my nipples until they stood erect. 

Pencil erasers indeed...

The nubby terrycloth wasn’t nearly enough friction to satisfy, but the knowledge of what he was about to see made my nipples prickle.  On impulse, I dropped the cloth and ran my hands up my belly to my breasts. 

From the corner of my eye, I saw him in the doorway.  He drew back, and I thought he might whirl away.  But he held there a moment, which made me bolder.  I smoothed my hands downward and began to touch myself, parting my thighs.  I lifted a foot and placed it on the bench inside the shower, then arched my back and played like I was having the best time, like the pleasure was becoming too much—and I moaned, the same sound I made when I tasted my favorite ice cream. 

Now, he knew. 

What would he do about it? 

And how did I want him to react? 

My heard thudded hard against my chest, and my breath caught.  Gathering my courage, I turned my head to gaze at him through the glass, not stopping the movements of my hands while I rubbed my pussy and ran my fingers along the length of my slit. 

He held still, not a muscle moving, except the one that jumped at the edge of his strong jaw as it tightened. 

The fact he stayed there was encouragement enough.  I angled my body toward him, so that he could fully see what I was doing.  I lifted a hand to give my breast a soapy caress and continued to stroke myself until my clit tingled and it wasn’t enough.  With my thumb pressing on it, I thrust a finger inside myself and made another sound—a breathy, needy cry—and came. 

When I opened my eyes, he was no longer there.  But it didn’t matter. 

I knew. 

My brother, Finn, still wanted me. 

I didn’t see him again until after I’d eaten my dinner.  He stomped through the back door and stood over the recliner where I was sitting sideways, feet swinging idly, while I read an old copy of People magazine.  Pictures of the sexiest man alive didn’t thrill me nearly as much as the angry flush spreading across Finn’s cheeks or the sight of his lean body in shorts and a loose tee. 

“I want it back.”

I blinked up at him, pretending I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. 

“Nice to see you, too,” I said, giving him a smirk. 

“Now.  I want it back.”

I sighed and made a show of rising from the chair.  I made sure to stand very close so I had to tilt my head to meet his gaze.  I liked his height.  Liked the breadth of his expanded shoulders.  He looked strong and lean, and very capable of picking me up and doing whatever he wanted to do with me.  A thought that thrilled me to my toes.  But how to goad him into doing it?  That was the question that had been driving me buggy since I’d masturbated in front of him. 

“What do you want back?”  I asked, letting my smile deepen just a little.  Just enough he knew I was fully aware of what he wanted. 

“It’s mine, Pita.  My
private
journal.  Now move your sweet little ass and get it for me.”

I didn’t have to pretend to shiver at his command. 

“Or what?”  I whispered, leaning closer. 

“You don’t want to find out.”

“Maybe I do.”  I tilted my head and licked my bottom lip.  I’d never been much of a flirt, but with Finn, I was finding it so easy to do.  Maybe it was because my nipples were tight again and my pussy was beginning to warm. 

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, his glance dropping to my mouth. 

“Is that what you want?” 

“Stop it.”  His gaze narrowed and bored into mine.  “I’m your brother.”

“That didn’t stop you thinking about me giving you blow jobs.”

His expression hardened.  “It’s one thing to think it.  I’m a guy, we think about sex all the time.  But I’m not a fucking perv.”

“How disappointing.”

“Stop playing.”  He reached out to grip my upper arms.  “Give it back.”

I raised my chin.  “Or you’ll...  do...  what?” 

His grip tightened.  So did his lips.  Before I could gasp, he whipped me around and bent me over the chair.  The first swat stung my ass, the shock holding me still.  The next swat was just as sharp. 

And then something happened.  Something unexpected.  My skin tingled.  My pussy grew damp.  Following another naughty impulse, I reached back and shoved my shorts and underwear down to my thighs. 

“Again.”  I’d been naughty, and naughty girls needed punishment—right? 

“Pita,” he groaned.  “Goddamn it, why can’t you act like a normal girl?” 

“You spank girls so often you know what’s normal?” 

“Never.  For fuck’s sake, pull up your pants.”

“Or what?” 

Instead of landing another slap on bare skin, he dragged me up against his chest.  His mouth was right beside my ear, his breath coming fast and harsh. 

My shorts slithered down my thighs and puddled around my feet.  While I stood nude from the waist down, I looked up and to the side and met his hot glare, daring him silently to act. 

“I want it back.”  He sounded like he was trying to keep his cool.