Stepbrother Studs Quinn (3 page)
Read Stepbrother Studs Quinn Online
Authors: Selena Kitt
“One more time,” he said.
I played the haunting notes of the opening. His fingers strummed as he joined in. Then his rasping tenor began to sing…
“I see you dancing, Sister, in temples where our father sings
Eating fruits of fig branches whose leaves I strip bare with my teeth
I know you’re his wild old god’s fallen, mortal, torn from wings
If he knew the new gods, older than his, we call to our feast
He’d banish those old dogs from my dyin’ bed’s side where they linger
Bringing your hand and its fruit to my mouth, releasing the Beast
“Do you consent to be forsaken, to be banished from his temples?
Do you hear the spoiled wine curse he’ll sing of Amnon and Tamar?
Will you bear with me the loss of softness and incense for the truth of wilder hearts?
Will you cleave with me to the fires that melt his cages’ golden bars?
Can you sing with me of secret communions in cloisters where Love is trampled?
Can you live with me in catacombs and lay with me in dire uncertain tomorrows?
“I can promise red rivers and thorned roses marking our hidden passages.
I can promise cthonic trysts with torches of three-faced goddeses and three-headed dogs.
I can promise burning hearthen safety from dire wolves and savages.
I can promise we’ll be our own mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers.
I can promise mourning angels will sing our forbidden praises.
And I can promise we’ll die alone with each other at home.”
When he stopped, he opened his eyes. We both smiled. The song wasn’t like anything we’d ever written before. It began softly, then grew in strength until we both swayed to the beat, heads nodding forward as he growled out the final promise—
we’ll die alone… with each other… at home
.
It was a promise. Our promise. And it was our song. Our story.
I cleared my throat of the lump that burned there. “It needs a name.”
“How about, ‘King David’s Shame’.”
“Where’s the shame?” I asked.
“There is none. Not for us.” And he smiled, and held out his hand. When I gave him my hand, he said, “Mine,” and let out a slow exhale.
“We’re really going to do this?”
“His smirk returned. “What? Sing the song?”
I rolled my eyes and let my lips curve. “No. Be us in front of the rest of the world…?”
Quinn stood his guitar in its stand and drew my keyboard off my knees. Then he pushed me to my back and settled over me, trapping me against the mattress. “Will you cleave with me to the fires that melt his cages’ golden bars? Can you lay with me in dire uncertain tomorrows?”
My eyes filled. “Yes and yes.”
“Then shut up, Viv. So people will gossip. Do you really give a fuck what they think?”
I drew a shaky breath and shook my head.
“That’s right, baby. We only have each other. No matter where the road takes us. It’s you and me, Quinn and Viv. We’re the only family we need, but I prefer us to be lovers, not siblings. If you’ll have me.”
I watched as he entwined his fingers with mine, and then moaned as he slowly entered me again. Those “dire uncertain tomorrows” didn’t feel dark or lonely at all.
The End
FIRST TIME WITH MY STEPBROTHER SERIES:
Stepbrother First Times: Baby Love
Stepbrother First Times: Baby’s Big Night
Stepbrother First Times: This Time, Baby
Stepbrother First Times: Welcome Home, Baby
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By Selena Kitt
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?
EXCERPT
:
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.
“And I’ll return it,” I agreed, swallowing hard. Was I really going to do this? But I already was, doing it. Now I just had to get him to do it too. “But first you have to spank me like you mean it. I mean… don’t I deserve it?”
I saw the surprise in his icy blue gaze a moment before his eyes narrowed. And then he moved, not letting go of my arm as he sat in the chair. He yanked me over his lap, his strong, bare thighs riding my ribs and my belly.
“Why are you doing this?” His voice was almost a whisper, like maybe he didn’t want to know.
Bent over with blood rushing to my head wasn’t a situation exactly conducive to lying, so I answered him honestly.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m curious. And this feels... good.”
“Me spanking your ass feels good?”
“My bare ass... please.” I nodded.
I wasn’t a virgin. But I also wasn’t very experienced. I knew enough to understand that he’d sparked something inside me. Something that wanted his punishment, his control. I felt feminine and helpless, and so thoroughly excited I thought I might get off like this, bent over him, his hand smacking me until my ass was hot and my pussy so wet I’d dampen his thigh.
Just the thought was getting me off.
He laid his hand on the curve of my bottom, tentatively, not giving me its weight. Like he was fighting with himself, trying to make the right decision—but he was tempted to give me what I’d asked for. What I deserved.
What I wanted.
What I knew he wanted.
Selena Kitt is a NEW YORK TIMES bestselling and award-winning author of erotic and romance fiction. She is one of the highest selling erotic writers in the business with over a million books sold!
Her writing embodies everything from the spicy to the scandalous, but watch out-this kitty also has sharp claws and her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.
When she’s not pawing away at her keyboard, Selena runs an innovative publishing company (excessica.com) and bookstore (excitica.com), as well as two erotica and erotic romance promotion companies (excitesteam.com and excitespice.com).
Her books EcoErotica (2009), The Real Mother Goose (2010) and Heidi and the Kaiser (2011) were all Epic Award Finalists. Her only gay male romance, Second Chance, won the Epic Award in Erotica in 2011. Her story, Connections, was one of the runners-up for the 2006 Rauxa Prize, given annually to an erotic short story of “exceptional literary quality.”
She can be reached on her website at
www.selenakitt.com