Pride and Pregnancy (A Devil's Dragons Motorcycle Club Romance) (71 page)

O
h
,
fuck.

Those were the only words that came to mind when Preston kissed me, the only words I could possibly form and hold onto long enough to give them meaning and weight. But what
did
they mean? Was I disgusted with him, my stepbrother for all intents and purposes, for the sweltering sweetness of his mouth on mine? Was I angry that he’d dared to touch me like this, or angry that he hadn’t done it sooner?

I clenched my hands into fists at my sides. I didn’t know what I wanted them to do. Or at least, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to admit it.

Preston’s lips were scorching hot on my own. His breath was like smoke filling my lungs, only it didn’t burn. It warmed me, but in places far below my chest, places that had begun to ache for more of Preston’s illicit touch.

I wanted to fight it. I wanted to fight him and this dark, forbidden desire lurking inside of me, the one that had been there since that first day I’d run into him on the sidewalk. I wanted to forget the cerulean flash of his eyes, his lopsided grin, the golden haze of his tawny hair. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.

Instead, I kissed him back.

I slipped my arms up around his neck, holding onto him tightly as he lifted me against his broad, brawny frame, clutching at my back as if he’d always wanted to do this. My ass was in his hands, and I felt him squeeze and dig in his fingertips all along my thighs, then back up again, roaming my body with his fierce touch. A soft wind blew in through the open balcony doors, carrying away the husky moan from my throat as Preston’s lips crashed against mine again and again, promising retribution for every hateful word I’d said.

I’d been disappointed in him. I’d thought he was different from his father, from the money that had corrupted the rest of our family. Had I been wrong?

I didn’t have time to think about it now—not when my stepbrother was dropping me onto the bed on my back and pulling my casual Friday jeans down my legs.

I whimpered, struggling up onto my hands to watch him as he yanked my ass to the very edge of the bed, then over it. With my legs suspended on his shoulders, he grasped my panties and pulled, ripping them off my hips and exposing my sweet, shaven pussy to feast his eyes on.

“Preston,” I whispered. “This is… wrong. We’re family. We can’t do this…”

I felt like I’d betrayed everything inside of me to say those words, and Preston didn’t even hear them. He was focused. He had seen what he wanted. And now he was going to get it.

He traced his fingers along my nether lips before spreading them wide and revealing the pink petals between. I could feel my clit throbbing in its hood, begging for the attention he’d already paid to my mouth and outer lips. He bent his head forward, delivering one long lick from my chasm to my crest, and I melted beneath him. Any resolve I’d once had to at least question the idea of fucking my stepbrother dissolved with one touch of his tongue, and I moaned for him again as he dove in and began to flick it against my aching button.

I wailed, burying my fingers in Preston’s hair, pulling at it as he lapped hungrily at the nectar flooding from between my thighs. I was feverish, shaking, convulsing, shrieking and rolling my eyes into my skull as he pleased me. I was sick, and Preston was the only cure.

He hauled my hips closer to his face, bringing me tight against his mouth as he sucked gently, his tongue still undulating hard and fast against my throbbing clit. I felt my nipples stiffen against the cups of my bra and pulled my blouse up over my head, letting him see how hard my breasts heaved for him.

“Preston,” I whimpered, “please…”

“That’s right,” he praised me, torturing my nubbin with his thumb. “I’m the one in control here, Maddy. I’m your boss. You do what I say, whether you like it or not. Is that clear?”

I squirmed uncontrollably under his touch. He laved me again, making me arch up off of his bed.

“Is it?” he asked me.

“Yes!” I answered, wriggling once more into his face. “Oh, fuck, Preston! Please don’t stop!”

“No,” he said. “Not until we’re clear on where you stand.” Then he turned me over so my ass was in the air, my knees barely making it onto the bed before he was behind me, panting, ripping his shirt off to reveal all those delicious muscles I’d secretly been craving for weeks now.

His belt was next, his hands moving so fast they seemed like a blur, and as I looked over my shoulder I saw the slick mast of his manhood jutting out behind me. Its swollen tip was made even angrier by the crimson sky outside, and the veins throbbing along the shaft looked almost purple in that hot, violent hue.

I pushed against him, worried that if I thought about what we were about to do for just a second more, I might lose my nerve. But Preston was a step ahead of me. He’d already decided for us what would happen next, and there was no way he was letting me off easy.

He seized my hips in his hands, digging his fingers in hard enough to leave bruises where he touched, bruises I would gaze at later and recall every detail of our tryst. They would remind me of my stepbrother’s power, of his absolute authority in his house, and they would remind me of my place and what running my mouth would do.

But if this was the punishment, then I would run my mouth at every opportunity. Preston needed someone to challenge him, and I needed him to fuck me in all the ways no man ever had.

When I felt his shaft breach me, I was sure he’d split me in two. He was so thick and hard that I could feel him stretching me, making way for the heft and might of his massive cock between the tight walls of my poor, neglected cunt. I scrabbled at the sheets, clawing at the silk, but couldn’t find purchase. I had nothing to hold onto as Preston worked his way inside of me, nothing to ground me to reality as he filled me with his cock.

“Oh, God…!”

Every moment after that was delirium. Every thrust was sheer ecstasy, the sort no words could possibly describe. Every touch burned me, scorched me, turned me to ash in his skillful hands, and yet every other saw me rise from the ashes to be filled once again by his thrumming cock. Preston was a wildfire raging over me, surging over the acres of my skin, leaving no inch of me unviolated. I twisted and arched, howled and writhed, pulled at my hair and shouted his name in ways I never thought I would.

“Fuck me, Preston! Harder!
Harder!
”

He obeyed me until the only sound I could hear beyond my own blood rushing in my ears was the steady slapping of his hips against my ass, the symphony of our bodies colliding and parting, only to collide again with even greater force. I was a slave to the sensations flowing through me, unable to think or feel anything else other than what Preston inspired with the roughness of his hands, the guttural tone of his growl, and the unrelenting force of his cock buried to the hilt inside me.

Preston reached down between my legs, snaking an arm over my thigh to rub my clit again with his fingers. I could barely keep up with his frenzied pace. The wave of my orgasm was already so close to crashing over me, and I feared that it would sweep me away into an oblivion I couldn’t possibly fathom.

“I’m cumming,” I whined, spreading my legs even wider for Preston’s girth. “Oh, shit—Preston! I’m cumming!”

He let out a low groan as I exploded. It was like the universe was coming together, like the two of us alone had created the sun and the stars. I wailed in rapture, throwing my head back and crying out Preston’s name again and again. Everything inside of me that said I should be ashamed was silenced in that moment. There was only me, Preston, and the undeniable passion we shared.

My walls hitched and squeezed, drawing tight around Preston’s cock. I felt him shudder behind me. He was close.

He pulled out of me and I turned, somehow knowing what he wanted from me though he hadn’t spoken it. On my hands and knees I crawled to him, watching him stroke his glistening shaft from root to crown, each jerk of his hand more desperate than the last. I pushed his hand away, engulfing his tip in my mouth, and felt him wind both hands through my hair to pull it away from my face as I bobbed mercilessly on his shaft, urging him into the back of my throat.

Preston let out a hiss through his clenched teeth. It was all he could do not to thrust into me, to make me choke on the enormity of his dick. I could smell his scent and mine mingling on his base, could taste my own lust for him as I spun my tongue around his shaft. I’d never known anything more delectable in my entire life than the way I tasted on my stepbrother’s cock.

“Fuck,” he gritted, feeling his balls tighten against my chin. I picked up the pace, rushing my brother toward ecstasy, pulling him into my mouth again and again as he surged forward suddenly and the first warm gush of his semen hit the back of my tongue.

I let my eyes flutter closed, slurping and sucking as Preston drove himself into me, eager to let the rest of his salty sweet load fountain down my throat. I held myself there as long as I could, forgoing even my own breath to see my brother twist in pleasure before me, knowing no other high so intense as seeing the look of bliss on his face.

As he settled I withdrew, the both of us panting. He fell forward onto his hands, staring into my eyes as I sat up on his bed, naked save for my bra. He brushed my hair from my face and kissed me, crawling over top of me, pinning me beneath his weight in a way that made me feel so safe, so secure, so
wanted
and
loved
.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he whispered, his breath swirling like a sweet melody in the labyrinth of my ear. “You have no idea, Maddy… No earthly clue…”

We fucked again, this time face to face, this time with my breasts crushed in his hands as he looked into my eyes while he took me. This time, there was no mistaking that I belonged to Preston Harvey, the man who would become my stepbrother. I wasn’t just his personal assistant… I was
all
his.

M
orning was
… different.

Neither of us had expected to pass out. I could tell that much from the way we were still on top of the covers, the summer breeze licking our dried sweat. I turned over beside Preston, making sure that what I’d dreamt of had actually been real. There he was, flesh and blood and muscle beside me. It was strange, but I didn’t know how to feel.

The passion we’d succumbed to last night had been… intense. And it wasn’t like I hadn’t enjoyed myself. But now, in the broad light of day, I couldn’t help but feel a creeping sense of shame. I was waking up in bed next to my naked, spent stepbrother. Who does that?

Swallowing the conflict for now, I sat up and looked around, trying to find a clock that could tell me the time. I’d have to settle for Preston’s cell phone instead, but that was easier said than done when I had no idea where he’d put it.

I crawled over his sleeping form, reached over the end of the bed, and searched the pants he’d been wearing the night before. As I looked at the crumpled heap, all I could think about was how he’d dropped them in the heat of the moment, what it had felt like to endure his twisting, tantalizing tongue…

I lifted his phone from his pocket. It was seven a.m. The morning light must have woken us. At least we hadn’t slept the whole day.

Just as I was raising back up, Preston asked me, “What are you doing?”

I turned to look at him. He was awake, though he hadn’t yet moved. He was looking at me strangely, probably in the same way I’d looked at him when I’d woken up in his arms. Last night had been incredible, but it had happened under the cover of darkness. Morning was an entirely different animal, and it seemed neither of us knew precisely what to do with it.

I decided to try to avoid it for now. “Your phone,” I told him, holding it up. “I wanted to know what time it was.”

“It’s ringing,” he told me, and I looked at it. Indeed, since I’d picked it up, his phone had received a call.

It wasn’t making any noise, though, and it wasn’t vibrating. I looked over at him. “Do you want me to answer it?”

“No,” he said. He sat up, and I watched his muscles coil under his skin like snakes winding their way through the desert. “I’ll handle it.”