Stepbrother Studs Ryan (3 page)
Read Stepbrother Studs Ryan Online
Authors: Selena Kitt
So, he liked breasts. My breasts. I loved his big, thick cock.
He was delighted when I got pregnant, and they swelled again for him.
When he’d taken his fill, he gently massaged my breasts. “I love you, Shauna.”
My eyes watered. I didn’t feel like a loser any more. I gave as much back to the relationship as he did. I was great mom, a great cook, an enthusiastic lover. My house was spotless, and I kept the business books and organized his calendar.
“Do I have time?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with humor because he knew I wouldn’t have crawled back into bed with him if his schedule didn’t allow time for this.
I glanced at the clock. “So long as you don’t beat the headboard against the wall and wake Jonathon again, I think we’re good.”
He shook his head. “I’ll have to remove it.”
“Good idea,” I said waggling my eyebrows.
He scooted farther down until his mouth hovered over my cunt. His fingers traced my slit, then burrowed inside me. His thumb played with my clit, until the hood slid free exposing the nubbin. Then he took it into his mouth where he licked and suckled, and eventually gave me a very sexy bite.
By that time, I was a writhing mess. When he rolled me to my back, I went eagerly to my knees. He pushed my head down, leaving me with my ass in the air. His fingers swirled inside me again, and then he rubbed the liquid on my anus.
Our new favorite fetish.
Spit dropped into my crack, his cock nudged my back hole, and he pushed.
The pressure was delicious. My anus slowly relaxed, allowing the broad knob of his cock inside.
“Fuck, you’re so tight. Feels so good hugging my dick.”
I liked the fullness, loved when he stroked me deep. Loved it even better when he let me play with myself while he did it. But I had to wait until he said so.
He let go of my hips and slid a hand around me, feathering the hair on my pussy, then wiggling my clit before sinking two long fingers inside me.
His fingers swirled and thrust. His thumb brushed my clit. His cock thrust like a piston, in short strokes, faster and faster. So much friction, so much heat.
My breasts, shivering and shaking beneath me, began to leak. I cupped them; moisture slicking my palms. Then I reached back and patted his thigh.
He halted, his cock pulsing, nearly exploding, I knew, but he pulled free. Removed his condom and tossed it. I turned toward him and took more milk into my hands, then wrapped them around his cock. I squeezed hard, letting him fuck my fists.
His jaw was tight. His eyes narrowed on my hands. I pumped him, until he moved his knees wider to make room for his tightening balls, then I bent over him and took the head into my mouth as I continued to stroke him with my hands. I drew on the tip, sucking as hard as I could, my cheeks hollowing, lips aching. I drew and drew until his fingers combed through my hair and his nails dug into my scalp.
“There, baby. Just like that. Almost, almost.” When I drew and slipped the tip of my tongue into his slit, he jerked and cum jetted into my mouth.
I licked every drop, swallowed it down. Just like he did my milk. I loved the taste of him. His essence. I understood his fetish now. When I drank him down, I was making him a part of me.
At last his thrusts slowed and he went still. “You haven’t come yet.”
I lay back and held out my arms. “Finish me.”
Ryan smiled and bent over me. His hands framed my face as he kissed my mouth, my cheeks, and then he moved down to trace a path with his tongue over my collar bone, the top of my breasts. When he settled in to suckle, I closed my eyes, lost in the luxury of having a man who enjoyed this every bit as much as I did.
As he suckled, he smoothed a hand downward. Fingers parted my folds, then entered me. His thumb rasped my clit.
He was in no hurry. He sucked, first one breast, then the other, all the while stroking my cunt.
My breath deepened. My head turned side-to-side. I fisted my own hair and pulled it as he drew harder on my nipple. My legs moved restlessly, and I hooked a thigh over his hip, opening myself as I lifted my bottom and ground into his hand.
My orgasm wasn’t that quick rush of fire that burned hot but quickly flickered out. This was a slow, smoldering blaze that ignited every nerve in my pussy, my breasts, on my skin.
Goosebumps rose, my womb contracted. And then it rushed over me, making me cry out. Ryan didn’t stop, knowing there was more. He suckled and probed and murmured his own pleasure as I undulated, my body trembling in the beauty of my orgasm.
I must have slept. Lips brushed my cheeks.
“I’ll give Jonathon breakfast,” he whispered. “You sleep.”
He smelled of aftershave and toothpaste. I opened my eyes and roamed a hand over my body. His gaze darkened, following my progress.
“You’re beautiful, Shauna.”
“I love you.”
His smile was happy, relaxed. He rolled a nipple between his forefinger and thumb, then plucked it. “I’m a lucky man.”
I came to my elbow at the edge of the bed and nuzzled his cock. A last reminder that it was mine. That I’d be waiting.
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.