Stepbrother Studs: Taboo A-Z Boxed Set Volume 1: A Stepbrother Romance Bundle (Stepbrother Studs Boxed Sets) (8 page)

My ears were ringing and I could barely catch my breath when he climbed onto me and forced his tongue into my mouth, his cock deep into my still-spasming cunt. 

“Oh Jill, God,” he gasped against my mouth as he bottomed out, balls-deep.  My legs went around him, rocking up to meet him, as if I could draw him in even more.  “It’s never been like this.”

“First time without a condom,” I giggled, looking up at him as he pulled back a little. 

“No.”  His eyes were dark, serious, searching mine.  “It’s you.  My sweet baby sister, it’s all you.  You’re so fucking hot.  My good girl.”

“Brian.”  I touched his face, rubbing my fingers over his still-wet lips.  “Do you know how much I love you?” 

“Yeah.”  He swallowed, capturing my mouth with his, kissing me long, deep, taking what little breath I had left. 

Then he buried his face in my neck, whispering, “I love you, too, sis.” 

I cradled his head for a minute as we let those words—his and mine—sink in, our feelings finally catching up as he began to move.  His lips trailed over my neck, finding my mouth, tongue pressing in hard, deep.  I took that too, like I took his cock, again and again.  I cupped his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me when he rose up on his elbows for more leverage. 

“Faster,” I whispered, feeling his breath hot against my face.  “Harder! Please!” 

He let out a low grunt, rising up further onto his arms, hips driving hard, his cock pistoning into my pussy like he was trying to pin me permanently to the mattress.  And still, it wasn’t enough.  I ran my hands over his shoulders, his chest, his belly.  We were both dripping sweat.  He was working hard, eyes closed, not holding back at all anymore. 

“Look at me,” I whispered, rubbing my fingertips over his nipples, getting his attention. 

“Ahhhh!”  His eyes flew open and I met his gaze, lifting my hips to his.  “Oh fuck, Jill, you feel so good?”

“You like fucking your little sister’s hot, wet cunt?”  My fingers brushed his nipples again, lingering, as I squeezed the walls of my pussy around his shaft.  “Feel that?  Like that?”

“Oh fucckkkk,” he growled, shaking his head from side to side, spraying us both with sweat.  I let my tongue snake out to taste a droplet that landed on my cheek.  “I can’t stand it much longer.”

“Does fucking your little sister’s pussy make you want to come?”  I teased.  Oh hell, my clit pulsed at that, even as hard as I’d come all over his face.  “I love your cock in me.  I love you fucking me, big brother.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s so wrong.”  He groaned, a little smile turning up the corners of his mouth.  “You naughty girl.” 

“You know that’s part of it.”  I licked my lips, running a hand down to feel where he was moving into me.  His thrusts had slowed a little, but his hips kept moving, like they were doing it all on their own. 

“Yeah.”  He grinned, slowing even more, looking down to where my hand circled the base of him.  Then he lifted his gaze to mine.  “But not all of it.  Jill… I…”

“Shhh.”  My hand moved, jacking him as he fucked me.  God, I loved that motion.  “Just fuck me, big brother.  Fuck me until you come.  I want your cum.” 

He groaned, arching his back and beginning to rut.  It was so good, I could barely stand it.  My fingers moved over my swollen mound, parting my lips and exposing my clit to his hard, rolling grind.  His cock head rubbed deep inside of me, so deep I ached, his balls rubbing up against my ass, and I cried out when I felt the first swell and pulse along his shaft. 

“Oh! Fuck!”  He gritted his teeth, hips moving back once before he dove back in, shuddering as his cum erupted inside of me, an explosion of white lava.  I felt each beat of it, a hot, swollen clench and release.  The minute his crotch met mine again, I came too, not with a scream, but with a whimper.  My orgasm surprised me, quivering my limbs, forcing my cunt to snap closed around his cock with a force that made him groan and open his eyes to look at me.

“That’s it,” he whispered harshly.  “That’s my good, sweet girl! Fucking come for me, little sister.”

I held back a sob, shaking my head, but he ground his hips into mine, forcing every bit of climax from my clit, making me milk his cock.  I clung to him, burying my face against his thick, strong neck as he reached down to pull his cock from my pussy.  I cried out then, but he wasn’t done.  He rubbed the head, spongy but still pulsing and hard, up against my slit, hips still moving, fucking relentless, again and again. 

He whispered in my ear the whole time, my nipples hard against his chest, a constant, delicious grazing, as he rocked me underneath him, not fucking my pussy anymore, but fucking my clit.  He rubbed and rubbed his cock over that sensitive little nub, telling me how much he wanted me, that  he’d always protect me, that he’d always be my big brother, that he was going love me forever, that I was his, and no one else’s.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, teeth raking my earlobe.  “Mine, mine, mine.  Do you hear me?  I can’t let you go.  I won’t.  I’ll never let you go again.”

“Brian,” I sobbed, crying out with my climax, again, oh again! I didn’t come—I shattered, with a rush of liquid that wet his hands and cock, christening him with my juices.

When he pulled away, I cried out in protest.  But he climbed up my body, knees straddling my sides.  He thrust a hand beneath my head, pulling on my hair to lift it, and resumed jerking his cock.  His expression was hot and little dazed, cheeks red, eyebrows lowered in such a fiercely joyful scowl, I couldn’t help reaching down between his legs and to cup his balls, giving them a playful tug. 

Brian groaned and his jaw sagged, his entire body tensed as cum exploded from his cock in thick, creamy stripes across my breasts, my face.  While he watched I rubbed the creamy goo into my soft tits and belly, up my neck and over my cheeks.  Bathing in it.  Finally, I rubbed his cum on my mouth and licked my fingers clean. 

His movements slowed and then stopped.  We both drew deep ragged breaths.  He rolled to my side on the bed, then lay atop me, his spent cock between us, his hands bracketing my face.  The scent of our cum was all around us.  I smiled, feeling tears well in my eyes.

“Don’t, little sister.”  He kissed my eyes, closing one, then the other.  “You’ve been a very good girl.”

“Am I your best girl?”  I didn’t open my eyes to look at him when I whispered the question, too afraid of the answer. 

“I meant every word.”  His hand moved through my hair, down my shoulder, his fingers rough and calloused from yard work.  I remembered the way he’d touched me during sex and shivered, flushing.  “Mine.  You’re mine.”

“But how?”  I looked at him, holding my breath. 

“I don’t care.”  He pulled my head closer and pressed his lips to my temple.  “Now that I’ve had you, I’m not giving you up.  I promise you.”

I nodded, swallowing.  I felt the same way.  Whatever we had to do, we’d do, to be together.  I wasn’t strong enough to fight this. 

The sound of the party reached my ears.  People hollering, laughing. 

“Damn.”  He sighed, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and finger.  “We’ve got a house full of assholes down there to deal with, thanks to you.”

“
Naked
assholes, thanks to
you
!”  I shoved him playfully. 

“I never thought you’d do it.”  He chuckled, smiling at me.  “And I sure as hell never thought you’d do… this…”

“But are you glad?” 

“Wanna fell how glad?”  He arched a dark eyebrow, and his smirk began to curve at one corner of his mouth as he reached for my hand, guiding it down between his legs. 

“Damn,” I whispered, brightening at the way his cock jumped when my fingers touched it.  “That’s impressive.”

“Doesn’t usually happen.”  He shrugged.  “That’s all you.” 

“Really?” 

He leaned closer and whispered.  “No one compares.”

I smiled as he leaned down and licked at my lips. 

“Hey! Jill!”  The voice was far away, but it was Ivy.  She’d come looking for me.  Crap.

His smirk returned.  “Brave enough to wear me outside?”

I giggled.  “At least you didn’t make a liar out of me.  I’m all lotioned up.”

We wrapped up in towels, although Brian wouldn’t let me cover my tits.  So my towel rode low on my hips as we went downstairs. 

Ivy was in the kitchen, standing nude in front of our fridge as we came in.  I glanced out onto the patio where the party was still in full swing.

“There you are!”  Ivy brightened when she saw my stepbrother. 

She was already really drunk, I could tell by the way she looked at him.  If I wasn’t sure of it before she approached him, hips swaying, her gaze raking over Brian’s chest as she moved in to rub her naked tits against his chest, giving him a hug, I was definitely sure of it when her hand crept under the edge of his towel to fondle his cock. 

“Hey, let me take you back upstairs,” she said, slurring her words.  “I wanna give you something… you ready for it?” 

Standing beside them, I could only stare.  The fucking slut!

Maybe Brian read my anger, but his hand shot out to shackle Ivy’s wrist, and he pulled it from under his towel. 

“I’m always ready for the right girl.”  Over her shoulder, his gaze locked with mine.  “But I’m sorry, Ivy—you’re just not that girl.” 

Ivy pouted, turning and sticking her tongue out at me.  Oh my God, when she found out…

I smiled, knowing I was going to keep that secret, at least a little bit longer. 

“Come on, Ives.”  I put my arm around her shoulder, pulling her with me onto the patio, and away from Brian. 

I couldn’t help smiling, knowing my brother was watching us walk away, feeling his gaze on us. 

On me. 

But I wasn’t worried about where I stood with him.  Not anymore.  My body felt well-used, loved, my movements easy and flowing.  He’d done that.  Given me the confidence to move naked among my friends.  Because I no longer cared what they saw.  I cared only about how proud I’d make him.

Glancing around the pool at my friends, I shouted, “Who needs another drink?

”

Virginia hates him.  Cameron is older, annoying, listens to crap music, borrows her stuff without asking, and teases the ever-loving life out of her. 

She hates him when she finds out he’s taken her iPod again.  She hates him even more when she finds out he’s been spying on her, and not only that, he’s been “sharing” his sexy discovery.  And charging his friends admission!

She hates him while she’s plotting her revenge. 

She hates him all the way up to the point that she can't anymore.  Because now, she’s falling for him--the one guy she knows she can’t have.

“Where the hell is it?”  Virginia flipped through the scattered laundry, copies of
Maxim
, and empty Rockstar energy drink cans.  Cameron’s room was a mess, as usual.  Her stepbrother was such a pig.

She’d told him he couldn’t borrow her iPod Nano but of course he had anyway.  Now she needed it for her morning workout on the spinning bike.  Needed, not wanted.  If she rode without her iPod, earbuds firmly in place, she might have to listen to Cameron’s crude jokes or the stupid emo music he blared out of his room.  Blah.  She’d rather skip the bike and get fat than have to listen to that crap. 

Actually, she was a little surprised he even wanted to borrow it.  He had heard the Black Keys booming out of the speakers of her friend, Lily’s, Fiesta when she dropped Virginia off after a late night study session, and that had been it.  He’d been obsessed since hearing “I’ll Be Your Man” while he was taking the trash out to the curb and had bugged her to borrow her iPod for days.  She, of course, refused.

Now she couldn’t even find it.  The little jerk.

Virginia had never understood her stepbrother’s music.  He liked emo rock, and all of it was bad.  She was into alternative—bands like the Arctic Monkeys, the Black Keys and White Stripes.  She had chalked it up to him being a few years older and growing up listening to the radio in Philadelphia, where he’d moved from when their parents had hooked up via Skype and decided to actually get married. 

It was the only thing that explained his weird music tastes.  That, and his idiot friends.  Her stepbrother could be a jerk, but they were even worse.  She always caught them ogling her tits and making comments about her having a “keg ass”—they whispered to each other how they wanted to “tap it.” 

Unoriginal, just like her stepbrother’s music tastes.

She’d considered caving and letting him borrow her iPod, mostly so he would shut the hell up.  But also because she’d actually hoped it would lead to her being able to introduce him to other bands like Hot Chip or Interpol—bands that might ultimately replace the endless, whining singers he’d crank up every time their parents were gone.  In the end, though, he’d been a jerk about it and so she told him no, that he better not touch it if he knew what was good for him. 

That didn’t happen.  Obviously. 

She found his laptop on his bedroom desk—underneath a couple horror movie DVDs, a nearly empty bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, five guitar picks, and a T-shirt that read “The Man” with an upward arrow pointing at the neck and “The Legend” with a downward arrow underneath it. 

She read the shirt, rolling her eyes as she tossed it onto his messy, unmade bed.  She threw the Doritos in his trashcan, which was already half-full of wadded up Kleenex.  She wasn’t sure she wanted to know why there were so many in there, but she could imagine what kind of stuff he watched on his laptop.  There was also a bottle of their mother’s hand cream on the floor near the trashcan.

“Ewwww.”  She noticed the bottle was nearly empty. 

She wasn’t really surprised by the idea of her stepbrother masturbating—he was a healthy twenty-year-old guy, after all—but the idea of it happening on the other side of the wall separating their rooms gave her pause.  Did he ever hear her doing the same thing with the vibrator she kept in her gym bag?  She’d purchased the quietest model she could find. 

But was it quiet enough? 

Maybe she should turn it on, leave it on her bed, and go stand in his room to find out if it could be heard through the wall?  The thought that he might have heard her made her feel a little strange. 

That’s when she saw it—her iPod was plugged into Cameron’s laptop. 

She opened the laptop to disconnect the iPod from the computer.  The desktop wallpaper was a photo of a young woman who looked, strangely, not unlike her.  She was some
Maxim
model clad in nothing but a man’s damp white dress shirt—making it very see-through—standing on a beach while the sun set behind her.  She had long, honey-colored hair, heavy tits, and a pretty nice-sized behind peeking out from the bottom of the shirt.

Perfect fapping material.  Yuk. 

She couldn’t get over how much the girl looked like her.  The more she stared, the more similarities she found.  Especially the shape of her body—heavy breasts with a full, rounded behind.  Virginia remembered how often Cameron sat at the kitchen island munching his Captain Crunch while she rode the bike.  Every morning, in fact. 

She wondered if there were other—more hardcore—images of this woman on his hard drive.  This woman who looked so much like her.  Virginia wasn’t averse to porn.  She loved the stuff and got off to it on her own laptop all the time.  She especially liked watching cam girls masturbate, especially the ones who got off on dildos and vibrators, and kinky amateur couples getting it on for anyone who wanted to watch. 

She had favorites she’d never miss.  “YrFavMistrs” often tied up and teased her husband until he was ready to burst, which he often did on his wife’s face and tits when he was a good boy.  “MetalLvr” was a smoking hot goth girl who loved fucking herself with metal dildos and butt plugs.  She used her earbuds, of course—but how loud was her vibrator?  Could Cameron hear her from his room?

She glanced around the room, frowning, as she disconnected her iPod.  That’s when she noticed the folder near the bottom right of the laptop screen entitled “Virginia Between The Sheets, Live!”  Hm.  Coincidence?  Her heart dropped to her stomach, and she wondered, hoped, that it was some live album from some whiny emo band he’d discovered.  She knew how weak of a hope it was as she moved the laptop’s cursor to it.  Nervous, she clicked open the folder.

“I’m going to kill him,” she whispered.

There were twenty video files.  “Kiss It Baby!”  was the first.  She clicked it open as she sat at her stepbrother’s desk, aghast at the sight of herself masturbating on the cool, blue, pastel sheets on her bed.  She noticed the trees outside her window in the video had new buds on them.  He’d apparently started taping her in the spring?  She was sitting up against the wall behind her bed, pillows propped behind her, laptop open at the foot of the bed for optimum viewing. 

“You spying little bastard,” she whispered. 

On the screen, she was playing with her purple dildo, clearly moaning, but the video was silent.  At least, she thought it was, until she checked the volume on Cameron’s laptop and realized he had it muted.  She clicked the little speaker icon and the sound of her moans and the wet squelch of the toy between her legs filled the room. 

She actually blushed.  And God help her, but her traitorous pussy started getting wet, thinking about Cameron in here, watching her touching herself, while he jerked off.  Was that what all the Kleenex in the wastebasket were from?  She’d never heard him doing it, although she’d seen him naked and hard once.  She’d walked into the bathroom one morning, and he was poised, leaning over the toilet, one hand on the wall behind the tank, the other holding a very thick length of early morning wood. 

Of course she’d walked right back out again, and neither of them ever talked about it.  But she remembered the sight of him holding his hard cock.  She pictured him now, sitting in this very chair, stroking it while he watched her touch herself.  She knew she should be mad, and she was.  She was righteously pissed.  But she was also incredibly turned-on. 

Damn, what in the hell was wrong with her?  This was her stepbrother she was thinking about!

It was wrong.  And the fact that he’d set up some sort of camera in her room?  That was beyond wrong.  How had he done this? 
When
had he done it?  A hidden audio and video set-up in her room was no small feat.  The sound of her orgasm brought her back to the video, and she realized why Cameron had entitled it “Kiss It Baby!”  She came hard all over her dildo, soaking it with juice.  Then she pulled it out and kissed it before licking it clean before dropping it next to her on the bed.

She got her external hard drive from her room and copied every file and folder she could find with her name on it from Cameron’s computer to her hard drive.  Then she reattached her iPod to his computer and stacked the shirt, Doritos, guitar picks, and DVDs back onto the laptop. 

Back in her own room, she began the search.  She knew the camera and microphone had to be facing the bed.  Anger simmered inside her as she pulled books off shelves, her framed high school diploma and photos off the wall, and found nothing.

The wall opposite her bed and the bookshelf were bare now, and nothing seemed out of place.  She wondered if Cameron had spackled the hole and stopped the taping, fearing he might be caught?  She begun hanging the diploma and photos back on the wall and then gasped out loud.  There it was.  Even Sherlock Holmes might’ve missed it.

“Really, Cameron,” she said as she looked at the hole between two framed photos.  “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

He’d drilled the hole, barely bigger than the ones made by the nails she’d used to hang her photos.  It looked like a hole she’d put there by accident, one she’d decided not to use when hanging the frames.  Taking a pair of scissors, she chipped away at the drywall and discovered the small camera and equally tiny microphone.

She thought about ripping it all out, taking it to the garage, and throwing the mess at him.  Confronting him was the only solution.  Bringing this to their parents was a bad idea for both of them.  She needed to settle the score and put him in his place.

She grabbed her iPhone and called Lily.

“What’s up, girlfriend?”  Lily answered the phone.  The Black Keys were blaring in the background and she turned it down. 

“Can you get over here?  Like, now?  I need your big brain.”

“Are you sure that’s all you need?”  Lily laughed.

Virginia and Lily had been lovers for years, on and off.  It was just a casual thing, nothing serious.  Mostly it was just to relieve stress after finals, or when one or the other of them was between boyfriends.