First Time With My Stepbrother Boxed Set: A Stepbrother Romance Bundle (First Time With My Stepbrother Boxed Sets Book 1) (6 page)

“I said stop. You deaf?”

“So stop me.”

By this time his hand edged to the fabric on my bikini top. I saw the look in his eyes. Ravenous, hungry, lust-drunk. My chest heaved while he teased the top.

“I don't think that's wise. Besides, you're my brother.”

“Stepbrother, actually. Not related.”

“But it's still a sin,” I objected, trying to catch my breath, with him so close. “I bet if I ask Father Walsh—”

His kissed me before I could finish. Not a brotherly kiss, either. This kiss was all-encompassing, deep and hard. His tongue stroked the roof of my mouth, his hand moving over my ribs, and I felt tingly all over at his touch. I’d never had a tongue in my mouth before and didn’t have any idea what to do, but Miles did. His mouth slanted against mine, teaching me, opening me him.

“Tell Father Walsh what, now?” His breath was hot as he murmured this against my wet, parted lips. I gave a little whimper, my whole body singing.

“Oh God,” I whispered. “This is so wrong.”

“But it feels so right.” He grabbed one of my hands and thrust it against his swim trunks, rubbing it there. I felt his throbbing erection, and it scared me. It also excited me, beyond all reason. I didn’t know what to do, but when my hand closed over it through the material, Miles gave a little groan. That excited me, too.

“We shouldn't,” I gasped, but he kissed me again. This kiss was deeper still, his mouth drawing my tongue into his mouth, a gentle suck. Every time he did that, I felt an aching throb between my thighs.

Then one of his fingers hooked my bikini top and started to pull it down.

“You can't,” I panted, breaking our kiss. I looked into his eyes, seeing the lust there. Oh, this was so wrong, so very wrong. But I wanted him. Every part of me wanted him.

“You want me to,” he said, his gaze moving down to my chest, speaking the words I knew were the truth. “Don't be a liar.”

“Yes,” I confessed with a little cry. “But it's wrong.”

He listened only to my assent, kissing my neck, working his way down my collarbone. My bikini top was still on, but my areola, pale pink and puffy, was exposed. Miles looked at it. Then he reached out a finger to touch it. I felt my nipple pucker, my pussy throb. Then he leaned down and kissed it. Just the half-oval of my areola. Then he licked it, and I jumped like he’d shocked me.

“You're such a sweet flower,” he whispered. Then he reached back and untied the string, pulling my top down completely. My breasts had never seen the sun—not since I’d had them, at any rate. I hadn’t been topless outside since I was in diapers.

I moved to cover myself, but Miles grabbed my wrists, shaking his head, eyes level with mine. What he wanted was in his eyes, and the heat of it traveled through me in an instant. I felt myself trembling, a cool breeze blowing against my nipples, making them instant erect. They went from pink and puffy to hard and pursed as Miles looked at them.

I struggled a little, trying to free my hands, but his grip tightened as he leaned in to lick one of my aching nipples. His tongue danced around the areola and then teased the bud. I’d never felt anything so good in my whole life. I watched him in wonder, forgetting about escape, amazed how, every time his tongue passed over my nipples, I felt that pulsing tug between my thighs, as if the nerve endings were directly connected.

I squirmed when he bit down, gently pulling on it. After one had been tongued and tasted, he repeated this with the other nipple. I started begging him.
Please stop. I can’t take it. No more.
But he didn’t stop. Then I started begging him for forgiveness. Or maybe I was asking God.
I want this. Oh God, help me. I’m so sorry. I can’t… we can’t… please… oh that feels so… God!

His fingers kneaded my bikini bottoms. Right between my legs. And I wanted him to. I moved my hips with him as he tongued my nipple. And when he drew my hand to his crotch, I grasped his length through his wet swim trunks, and he started moving too, that same rhythm. My body seemed to know what to do, what it wanted.

I knew what I wanted, even as I whispered that I didn’t. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted him inside me. I wanted him inside me—all over me. I wanted him to baptize me with his seed.

In my perfect world, that’s what I wanted.

But my sinning heart knew that it wasn’t a perfect world. It was a fallen world, ruled by lustful, greedy men. Fallen from the grace of God. Far afield from the light of Our Lady.

And then I looked down and saw Miles on his knees, worshipping me.

He squeezed my breasts, his head buried between my legs. He didn't take off my bikini bottoms, but he nuzzled and gnawed at the fabric. He chewed with gleeful abandon. My pussy was so wet. The possibility that Miles might taste the pussy juices leaking through my bikini bottoms both horrified and delighted me.

I heard sounds down there, but didn't know what to make of them. When I opened my eyes, I saw Miles's swim trunks dangling from one ankle while he jerked off. For years I imagined what his cock actually looked like with all the teenage lust of a high school girl.

Then I saw it, hard and magnificent. His body was perfection, his cock long and thick, rising up from a sandy nest of hair like a serpent, ready to strike. I couldn’t look away. This wasn’t my fantasy, or some white-hot dream I’d wake up from shaking and throbbing all over. I was trapped in the jaws of real life with real sensations.

Do I want to escape this?
I remembered thinking that.
Or do I want give into this?

Jesus Christ, hear my prayer.

I only heard the waves in the pool and Miles's mad masturbatory frenzy. He was licking my pussy through my bikini and jerking himself into oblivion. And I was lost to it, lost in it.

“Oh yeah, I'm going to come!” His head came up, licking his lips, and then he stood and walked over to me, his cock pumping in his closed fist.

“What are you? Don't!” I gasped, unable to look at anything but the blur of his hand moving up and down his hard cock.

He wanted to come on my face, but my hand blocked him. Instead I felt the first hot splash across my naked breasts. My nipples received sticky ropes of the stuff, and my pussy ached as if it, too, had been christened.

“No!” I said. A little late.

I stood up, pushed Miles away in disgust, and leapt into the pool. I wanted to clean myself off, come up new, all my sins washed away. But after reading
Macbeth
in high school, I knew there were some stains I couldn't ever get rid of.

I swam over to the opposite edge of the pool. Miles followed, this time completely nude. He took me into his arms, and I let him. He pressed himself up against me. I could feel his cock getting hard again. It rubbed against my stomach. It wouldn’t leave me alone.

And I didn’t want it—him—to…

“Fuck off!” I shouted.

I dashed from the pool on the verge of tears. My emotions overwhelmed me. I loved him, I hated him, I wanted to fuck him—I'd go to Hell for him…

“Clarice.” My name in his mouth. A caress.

He walked out of the pool, water sleeting of his body, over his erect cock.

You're an undisciplined satyr,
I thought, unable to look away.
If we actually do fuck, I'll be pregnant in no time.

During that summer, pregnancy loomed over my head like an apocalyptic disaster.

An accidental pregnancy would be something I couldn't explain. Although I wouldn't have to, since the inevitable fact of getting disowned would solve that problem. Maybe the convent would be the best thing for me.

All I lacked was the bedrock of faith.

As much as I'd like to remember our poolside shenanigans as a one-time thing, it wasn't true. A force greater than our rational minds drew us together—our bodies magnetized by a primal lust. We threw caution to the wind and disregarded the technicality of our kinship—even if we weren’t technically blood-related.

The glamour of taboo made it hotter. I also created a witty rationalization for our messing around. When the time came to enter the convent, I would expiate these sins in a monumental act of confession. I would beat myself with leather whips in the moonlight and conduct other acts of mortification.

Faith would cleanse me.

During that summer, we established our routine. I read and prepared myself for the convent during the week. On the weekends, Miles would stay at home and we would play. I thought of our games as those like Adam and Eve played before the Fall. Naked and alive, comfortable in our unadorned bodies, reaching the summit of ecstasy in a mutually agreed upon artificial paradise.

Late one night, Miles brought home a couple porn DVDs. We sat naked in his room and masturbated in front of each other. I loved watching him come. He held his cock tight and angled his cockhead on to his stomach. Pearly streams of cum would inevitably erupt from his long hard instrument. After I came—almost immediately after he did, sent flying over the edge by his display—he would pull me over to hold me and even let me lick him clean.

“I want to be inside you,” he would whisper while I diligently cleaned his torso.

On a different night, he set up an inflatable pool in the upstairs gym. He wore his underwear and I wore a sports bra and panties. We emptied a couple bottles of baby oil on our bodies. I could see his cock pulse after the baby oil made his underwear transparent.

“Nice camel toe,” he said.

“Fuck you,” I replied.

“Then that would be a first time.”

We both stepped into the pool and attempted a grappling hold he taught me from wrestling. The baby oil didn't help our sense of balance. Miles slipped, dragging me to the floor. He writhed and wriggled, but I held fast to his arms. Then he broke free.

One arm wrapped around my stomach and another around one of my legs. I jerked to break away. His hard abs rubbed against my thighs. My hand searched frantically for his underwear.

He worked one hand up towards my sports bra. His fingers started to push it up. I screamed when he pinched my nipple.

“No fair! No pinching!” I yelped.

I yanked his underwear down and gripped his stone hard cock. I began to pump it, feeling the pulsating throb beneath all the baby oil. Working my pelvis, I placed it underneath my pussy and started to buck.

Hot and sweaty, I threw off my sports bra. Miles turned me around and his mouth worked on my erect nipples. He licked and sucked them. While he enjoyed the fruits of my body, I humped against his dick and jerked him off.

His strength finally got the better of me and I found myself under his muscular frame. His stiff rod smacked my tits and I massaged him until he released jets of cum across my stomach.

“Want a re-match?” I asked.