Love My Billionaire Stepbrother: A Steamy BBW Stepbrother Romance
Forever My Billionaire Stepbrother
Sexy Books Press, December 2014
Copyright © 2015 Eve Kaye
All rights reserved worldwide
No part of this book may be reproduced, uploaded to the Internet, or copied without permission from the author. The author respectfully asks that you please support artistic expression and help promote anti-piracy efforts by purchasing a copy of this book at the authorized online outlets.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incident either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, locales, business establishments, or actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
All sexual activities depicted occur between consenting characters 18 years or older and who are not blood related.
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Billionaire Stepbrother Series
Love My Billionaire Stepbrother
Forever My Billionaire Stepbrother - out in the next few weeks!
What’s Inside
* * * * *
He lifted me off the railing and brought me close to his hard, strong body. His cock throbbed through his pants, against my belly.
He kissed me. Tongue running across my teeth. I tasted the sweet juice from my pussy. My cum in my own mouth. It was weird and yummy. He pulled back. A thunderstorm in his eyes.
“Put me in your mouth,” he said.
I knelt down in front of him. Unzipped his pants and tugged the slick fabric off of his taut butt. Let them drop to his ankles. His thick cock bulged through the silk boxer briefs. It threatened to rip through. I pulled them down and his cock leapt out at me. Slapped me on the chin. It was really big.
Like I mean huge.
It felt big earlier, when I tugged it in his pants. But out here, naked to the world, it was something else entirely. How was I going to fit that in my mouth, much less in my inexperienced, little pussy?
OMG. Did I just think that?
I encircled his girth with both hands and slipped the head into my mouth. I’d heard my girlfriends talk about sucking a guy off enough times to know the general rules.
I licked his head.
He moaned and his hips bucked forward. I jerked a little in surprise as my lips stretched around him. He slid it out and then back in again.
Further.
Further until it knocked up against the back of my throat. I almost gagged. I fought the urge. I let his cock stay there, bumping into the back of my throat.
He groaned and pulled his hips back. I caught a quick breath. Then in and out, trying my best not to gag as he inched deeper down my throat.
I cupped his balls and gently squeezed them as I guided him in and out of my mouth.
He yanked the pins out of my hair and the bun that took forever to put together fell away. His fingers ran through my long brown hair. His fists clenched, locking my hair in them.
He tugged my head toward him as his hips thrust forward. He groaned, deep and loud. His cock choked me. Filled my mouth more than I thought possible. I felt the texture of the ridges and veins on his shaft. I tasted the salty pre-cum.
I grabbed his butt with both hands and surrendered completely.
Impaled my mouth on him. In and out. Tip to base. The full, thick length of it sliding across my tongue and slamming down my throat. The head throbbed against the soft, wetness in my mouth.
I worked his length with one hand when I needed to catch a breath or when a gag overwhelmed me.
I pulled back. Long ropy lines of spit clung from my lips to his head.
I took a deep breath, loosened my throat muscles and swallowed him whole. All the way down. My lips touched against his swollen balls.
“Oh Jules,” he said, “Yes. Yes baby.”
He froze all of a sudden and yanked his cock out.
“Not yet,” he said. “Not yet.” His words tumbled out shaky and panting.
Spit dripped down my chin. He squeezed my face and pulled me up. His mouth found mine. His lips on mine so firm and hot. My hand found his cock and stroked him. He pulled my head back. His flaming blue eyes on me.
“Is this what you wanted, Jules” he said. “Is this what you wanted from me?”
“Yes, Jake,” I said. “I want to give you everything. I am yours. My pussy is yours. My first time is yours and only yours.”
“You’re mine,” he said, “mine alone.”
He set me back up on the railing and spread my legs. Shivers radiated from my soaking wet pussy as the warm wind blew across it.
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a littler square of plastic.
He was prepared!
I heard the the crinkly plastic tear and he was on me. Kissing my neck.
A hand ran down my belly and cupped my sacred parts. It circled my swollen clit and then a couple of fingers slipped into my tight wetness.
I moaned. I wanted more.
He circled the tight muscles inside me. I stretched against his probing, pushing fingers. My pussy coated them in slick juice. His fingers slid in and out of me, always pushing against the walls inside. Stretching me little by little.
Those electric sparks returned in no time. They radiated down to my toes and to the top of my head.
He bit my neck and then leaned into me.
“Hold on to the rail, honey,” he said.
I grabbed the rail as he came closer. I looked out on Paris at midnight. From the top of the Eiffel Tower.
And knew I was about to be fucked by my stepbrother. Fucked for the first time. Could it have been more horribly perfect?
His cock came to my entrance. The head throbbed on my sensitive lips. His hands anchored into my hips and tilted my waist back a little. The head pushed in, just enough to spread my little lips. He was so big.
“Is this what you want,” he asked.
“Yes, Jake.”
“Tell me Jules. Tell me how bad you want it.”
I felt horrible saying it. Felt like a dirty traitor. But I couldn’t stop myself.
“I want it Jake. I need your cock inside me. I need you to fuck me. Fuck my tight, little pussy. My sweet pussy that’s wanted only you since the day we met.”
“Beg for it Jules.”
“Please Jake. Please fuck me. I need your cock inside me. I need it now.”
* * * * *
I always dreamed of visiting Paris. You hear about how it’s the sexiest city in the world and, even if you totally believe it, it’s still just words. It’s still just words until you step foot out of your hotel and see the history in the graceful arches of Notre Dame, hear the buzz of passionate voices rise and fall, feel the uneven cobblestone streets underfoot, smell the freshly baked bread at every corner, and taste the pain au chocolat.
Oh, the pain au chocolat.
I never knew the gigantic hole in my life until I had my first pain au chocolat two days ago. Some French culinary wizard came up with the perfect combination of flaky crust and doughy inside mixed melted bit of chocolate inside.
We still had a few days of vacation left, but I already missed them. I missed them while eating them.
It was that bad.
I love food.
And I luuuuuv pain au chocolat.
Paris overwhelmed me. On its own, it would have been more than I could ingest.
But it wasn’t on its own.
He
was here too.
Add
him
to the equation and the result was something that defied math. It was nature. That chemical signal that skirts right by your conscious thoughts and dives down into your gut.
Down into your panties.
My body vied with my good sense for control, for direction. It wanted to do things that I knew were wrong. Things I knew were immoral or unethical, or just bad somehow. But a growing part of me didn’t care. It felt. It wanted.
It wanted
him
.
Jacob MacCormack.
Or Jake, as he insisted family and friends call him.
My soon-to-be-stepbrother.
What messed up twist of fate made him so gorgeous, so hypnotic, and so my almost-stepbrother?
Figures.
Maybe I was destined to be a crazy, old cat lady. I loved cats. I could see that reality. I hadn’t had much interaction with the opposite sex in my exactly nineteen years. It was cool at first. Like I was saving myself for Mr. Right.
But the cool factor was wearing thin and crazy, cat lady approached.
At twenty-six, he was seven years older than me. But in the six months or so since our parents started dating, he immediately cast me in the role of baby sister. Like I was in diapers sucking my thumb. It really pissed me off.
Partly because I don’t need another older sibling. My sister Katherine was plenty bossy to go around. She left our home in Los Angeles two years ago to study in Barcelona. It was supposed to be a semester abroad thing. Then she met Raul and two years later, it looked like she might be there to stay.
I missed her. Terribly.
Not her bossy bullshit. By my sister.
I was happy she couldn’t make it to Paris though. I know that’s selfish, but I didn’t want her treating me like a baby around
him
. He didn’t need any encouragement in that regard.
It was like he took pleasure in pissing me off. I wouldn’t have cared, except that I wanted him to like me. Like me as an adult.
A not-stepsister adult.
Fat chance of that.
I wasn’t worldly like the rotating harem of supermodels he brought to family dinners. Dad and Brigette, his mom, insisted we have them a couple of times a month, whenever Jake and Callum were back in the states on business. Our parents wanted all of us to get to know each other.
To feel like family.
The only problem was that we were already grown up and, besides, I didn’t want him to think of me as family. His idiot brother Callum was another matter. He bulldozed through family dinners like only an oldest sibling can.
I missed Katherine not being around for those. I was outnumbered and outgunned. Not to mention feeling fifty pounds overweight standing next to their tall, leggy, beanpole dates.
Ugh.
I wasn’t anything like those skin and bone, half-starved creatures. I had curves, lots of them. Even at nineteen, I filled a dress to stretching seams and spilling bosom.
Jake never even stole a glance, as far as I could tell. I just wasn’t his type.
It was infuriating.
So it was a huge surprise when Jake invited me to join him for a trip to Paris. A birthday present for me. A business trip for him.
Dad had embarrassingly talked about how I’d dreamed of Paris for years. It sounded so girlish. So idiotic next to Jake and Callum who flew around the world attending to their growing business.
It was nice of him though. And I wasn’t too proud to accept the invitation. And when I heard Callum and Brigette would be busy elsewhere, I jumped at the chance.
The chance to have him alone. To show him who I really was. Not the awkward adolescent who sat quietly listening to Callum and he swap tales about the glorious future of their partnership.
Aegis Power Unlimited.
I googled it.
Something to do with next generation sustainable power. A bunch of gobbledygook about replacing oil and taking us into the 21
st
century. I didn’t understand it, but it was obviously huge because I saw it on the Fortune 500 list.
I knew nothing about their business and so didn’t have much to contribute. And between the two, the discussion rarely strayed anywhere else for long.
But Paris would be different. I would make him see me as the woman I was. Make him see beyond the label of baby sister that he’d already pasted across my forehead.
Even if I could make him see me, really see me, could I ever have a place in his universe? He certainly didn’t advertise any celestial openings.