Protector

by Candy Quinn

  I was stunned by how Mackenzie looked when Selene led her out of the dressing room. I could tell Mackenzie felt just as special in that dress just by looking at her, its hem flowing playfully around her as she moved her hips to show off the ensemble. Something about the way her slender frame wore the garments, framed by the lighting in the boutique that was made to accentuate the beauty of the look, set something off in the both of us.

  “Kenz, you look…stunning,” I said after a moment, and she gave me a look of excited anticipation as silence hung in the room for a moment. “Give us a sec, will you?” I asked Selene, who had been simply standing aside to allow her clients to appreciate her work. “Think we’ve got our choice, but we need to talk a few things over first.”

  “Of course, sir,” she smiled and gestured her hand towards the door to the front of the store, “I’ll be right outside whenever you’re finished.”

  As Selene’s figure vanished behind the closed door, I wondered only a moment about whether she had picked up on anything strange in the air between Mackenzie and I. The next moment, Mackenzie was in front of me, running a hand up my back and looking hungrily into my eyes.

  “Think I’ll take this one,” she whispered before biting her lip and looking up at me expectantly.

  “Yeah?” My hand slid onto her ass, feeling up the rounded form through the expensive fabric. “I think we need to try it out a little more, first.”

  There was a velvet ottoman in the room, the same dark purple shade as the rest of the interior’s design, and we made for it immediately. My strong hands hoisted her up easily to carry her over there, and as soon as I did, her lips met mine, one hand on the small of my back and the other on my head, pressing my face into hers as she devoured me.

  “Someone’s gonna hear us,” she warned, breathless.

  “Hear you, maybe,” I returned playfully.

  “What do you—”

  Before she had a chance to finish her sentence, I set her down on the ottoman and hitched up her dress, trying to restrain myself from ripping the intricate fabric to shreds. It wasn’t easy. Once it was up to my satisfaction, I let myself run my lips against her exposed thigh, evoking a gasp from Mackenzie that she quickly stifled as she realized she’d made a noise. She had to put forth all the more effort to restrain a sigh of pleasure when my mouth reached her panties.

  “Cole,” she started, her face flushing red as her eyes darted to the door where one or both of the owners of the store might walk in at any moment, “we’re shopping at a boutique that’s surrounded by the media…for a dress for our own parents’ wedding.”

  “Do you still want this?”

  “God, yes.”

  I buried my face in her, hungry to taste the parts of her that I hadn’t had a chance to the night before. My lips pressed against hers, the scruff of my unshaved face brushing into her. Hurriedly, I slid her underwear down to her ankles before tending to her now-exposed pussy. I felt Mackenzie’s abdomen quiver as my tongue began stroking past her folds, and I knew just how much she must have been anticipating this moment. I wondered if she’d wanted to fuck while we were getting me fitted for my suit, but been too shy to make the suggestion. All the better this way, I figured, I want her to feel as special as she looks.

  As my tongue explored her wetted cunt, Mackenzie gripped the sides of the ottoman, and her brow creased as she tilted her head back, mouth open. I could hear her breaths, so eager to let out a cry of pleasure as I brought her close to orgasm. The tip of my tongue played with her clit, and I wanted to be walked in on while eating out my step-sister. I didn’t care. Mackenzie was worth it. Inexperienced as she was, I helped her adjust herself as she tried to push into my face with her womanhood, now drenched in both of our fluids.

  A gasp escaped her as she suddenly gripped my hair, hard, holding onto a fistful of it as her body shivered and convulsed with the orgasm that wracked her. I felt more of her fluids wash over me, wetting me from my brow to my chin. I couldn’t contain myself any longer, either. Standing up and letting her fall backwards onto the ottoman as she reveled in the rolling pleasure of her orgasm, I undid my belt and trousers with practiced ease and slipped my stiff cock into her. She had to force both her hands to her mouth to keep herself from yelping in pleasure. We really didn’t have any time to spare, now. How long had I even been working down there? I bucked my hips in rapidly, her tight cunt so wet that I slid in and out even more fluidly than I had last night.

  I slipped my hands around her back and thrust in rapidly, going faster and faster with my rhythm as I felt her pussy tighten around me with another orgasm, her eyes rolling back as she let herself be utterly taken by me. She didn’t even notice that I was taking far longer than I’d planned. I wanted to show her that I wasn’t going to let some nosy seamstresses spoil the ecstasy she was in. But once she mouthed the words, I let myself spill forward, my motions becoming more and more erratic until a long, low groan escaped me, and I felt the tightening and release in my cock as my seed spilled into her, and she held her legs around my waist as I pumped into her, utterly spent inside her. Then there was a knock at the door. “Ms. Mason? Mr. Van der Hausen?”

  The next few moments were a hurry of cleaning up with the kerchief I had in my pocket and trying to make the dress look like it hadn’t just been nearly ripped off in a moment of desire.

  “Sorry,” Mackenzie called, “we were just thinking about flower arrangements—time must have gotten away!”

  As we pushed the door open, Selene greeted us with a small smile and nodded. “Of course, madam. And the dress?”

  “Oh, it’s delightful—I’ll take it, absolutely.”

  “Got it covered,” I interjected, and Selene led me to the counter to make the transaction.

  Changed back into her street clothes, Mackenzie walked out of the store behind me with a new dress and an enormous smile across her face. We had to stop ourselves from embracing as we exited, particularly since a few more cameras flashed the moment we came out, trying to catch a glimpse of the “happy siblings shopping together,” I imagined.

  MacKenzie

  On the way back from the boutique, Cole and I tried our absolute hardest to play our roles as brother and sister appropriately and convincingly. As much as I wanted to hold his hand, to kiss him, to lean into him and feel the height and muscle of this gorgeous man against mine, it wasn’t safe. The photographers were out in full force today, and surprisingly they seemed more interested in me than in Cole. Despite the fact that Cole did most of the terse, dismissive talking, they focused their lenses on my face, angling for some kind of picture-worthy reaction from me. One especially dogged paparazzi actually reached out and clawed at my shoulder, sliding my tank-top sleeve down my arm and nearly exposing my breast. As he did so, he yelled, “Let’s see if Julie Junior has her mother’s body!”

  The next moment, a pale blur shot rapidly in front of my eyes as Cole threw a heavy punch at the photographer’s jaw. It connected with a loud crunch, and the guy crumpled to the ground, his camera clattering across the asphalt. The volume of shouts and camera flashes ratcheted to a near-deafening pitch as the horde of photogs rushed even closer, unfazed by the fate of one of their own. Cole’s arms curled around me protectively as we pushed through the crowd toward the eight-seater town car.

  “I’m gonna sue the shit out of you!” wailed the fallen paparazzo. “Assault and property damage! You’re goin’ down, man!”

  “You’re welcome,” Cole muttered. “Hope you all make a fortune off that photo.”

  “Cole, I can’t breathe,” I gasped, overwhelmed by the action. He elbowed and kicked men out of the way, pushing past them all to tug open the door of the car and all but cradle me into the middle row of seats. Sliding in next to me, he slammed the door shut, narrowly missing the fingers of several photographers, who then began to beat on the windows and attempt to open the door. The driver quickly locked all the doors and began to pull out of the parallel parking space, taking off down the
road. The paparazzi ran behind, snapping photos of what they would almost certainly describe to reporters as “the getaway car.”

  “It’s okay. We’re safe now,” Cole assured me softly.

  After about ten minutes of driving, I realized that I was still clutching the boutique bag to my chest, my knuckles white. Cole stroked my hair and pressed a chaste kiss into the top of my head comfortingly. For a split second, I caught the driver’s eye as he watched us in the rearview mirror. He swiftly returned his focus to the road without a word. It’s only a familial kiss, I tried to tell him via miraculous telepathy, just a brother-sister kiss, no big deal. Cole was apparently oblivious, tugging me closer to nuzzle at my ear. I shivered at the sensation of his hot breath tickling my skin. I glanced up to see the driver looking at us again and I cleared my throat loudly.

  “You alright?” Cole asked, genuinely concerned. I met his eyes and flicked my gaze toward the front seat emphatically. He seemed to get the message and immediately gulped. I couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face and the ridiculousness of the situation. He grinned and swiped a big hand through his hair. God, I thought longingly, he’s just so fucking hot. Realizing that my sleeve was still halfway down my arm, I moved it back up and tried to subtly adjust my shirt to fully hide my chest, inadvertently cupping my breasts in the process. When I looked back up, I saw that a slack-jawed expression had taken Cole’s face. He stared at me like I was a glass of ice-cold water and he’d been wandering in the desert for weeks. His hand moved slowly to his groin and began to lightly rub himself through his tight jeans. I felt a tingling in my pussy and I licked my lips. We had only had sex less than a half hour ago, but I already wanted him again. I wondered if it was possible to be addicted to someone.

  Even if it was, even if it destroyed me, I didn’t care. I remembered his words: “it would ruin you.” The fact that he cared so much, that he wanted so badly to protect me, even from himself—it backfired. It only made me want him more. He was so beautiful like this, his cheeks going a deep ruddy red as he rocked ever so slightly back and forth against the pressure of his own hand. I wanted to help him, to relieve him. I wanted to touch him.

  Leaning forward in between the driver and passenger seats, I politely asked, “Sir, is it possible to raise the screen? It’s just that we want to make some calls and, um, discuss wedding plans and stuff like that. Nothing personal—it’s just some secret surprise stuff for our parents. I’m sure you understand.”

  The chauffeur turned for a moment to look at me and nod. I bit my lip and smiled gratefully. “Thank you, sir,” I said. “And, uh, if you could just take us the long way home, that would be great. Wanna make sure that we shake off all those photographers, you know? We’ll pay you extra, obviously.”

  I could swear that the driver’s mouth twitched as though he were about to smile, but he simply nodded and replied curtly, “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you need.”

  As I sat back in the seat, the partition screen rolled up with a high-pitched buzzing sound, leaving us alone in the silence of the rear six seats. Even the drone of the talk radio was totally drowned out. Cole had readjusted himself in the seat, sitting casually with his hands in his lap but no longer rubbing himself. I was taken aback to see that he looked almost embarrassed, ashamed of his own lack of control. His erection was still apparent, and it gave me a thrill of pleasure to think that he had been this aroused simply by the sight of my hands on my own clothed breasts. It made me feel powerful, intoxicated.

  He blinked at me expectantly, unsure of what I was going to do. He was exactly where I wanted him. I clicked my seatbelt out of its lock and did the same with his.

  “Mackenzie,” he murmured as I began to massage my breasts through my tank top. I toyed with my nipples, soft and pointed through the silky fabric. Cole watched me as though entranced. I pushed my breasts together and leaned forward so that he could see my cleavage, and then I dropped one sleeve and shrugged my shoulders so that my left breast spilled out of my top. My nipple hardened in the cool air, and I circled it with my thumb, moaning quietly. Cole sighed and I noticed that his hand had returned to his groin and was rubbing faster than before.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled, and reached out to cup my breast with one big hand. I leaned into his touch and gently pushed his other hand away from his crotch. He gave me a confused look, and I straddled him, stripping out of my tank top to reveal both breasts and my smooth stomach. “Fuck, Mackenzie,” Cole gasped as I began to grind against his chest, his erection. His arms wrapped around to draw me closer and he pressed his face between my breasts, kissing and lightly biting. When he drew my nipple into his warm, wet mouth I couldn’t help but let out a little squeak. He laughed against my skin and dragged lightly scraping fingernails down my back. I closed my eyes and gave into the fantastic sensation for a few minutes, just rocking against him, feeling him so hard and huge against me.

  “I need you,” he murmured. I moved away and pulled down my skirt, gently massaging my clit through my undies. Cole reached to unzip his jeans and I quickly took over, gazing up at him with a wry smile.

  “I want to do this myself,” I told him quietly, pulling his cock through the hole in his boxers. He was so hard, his cock pulsing with the need for release. The tip was slick and sticky. Cole was breathing roughly, his chest heaving as he watched me. I spread his legs and moved down between them, kneeling on the floor of the car. Slowly I wrapped my hand around his member and began to stroke him, the palm of my hand tiny against the underside of his thick shaft. I could barely reach my fingers all the way around him, so I used both hands to pump his cock. Cole groaned and tilted his head back in pleasure, one hand grasping at my hair, gently guiding me to his dick. I smiled and took his member into my mouth, gasping at the size of it.

  “Oh, god,” he muttered. “Your fucking mouth...”

  I massaged the tip of his cock with my tongue, then sucked him into my mouth as far back as it could go before I started to gag. I pulled back and pumped him with my hands, licking my lips. “Cole, you’re so damn big,” I purred.

  “Don’t take any more than you can handle,” he insisted, a tone of worry breaking through the huskiness of his voice. Here he was, utterly vulnerable with his cock in my hands, and he was still trying to protect me. I wanted to prove to him that I could handle it, could handle him.

  “Don’t worry about me,” I said, with more confidence than I actually felt, and sucked his cock back into my mouth, starting to move my head up and down, still stroking him with my hands. My fingers moved down to very gently massage his balls, and he cried out in ecstasy. It was so satisfying, knowing that I could reduce this tall, muscular hulk of a beautiful man to whimpers and groans, seeing him fall apart at the mere sight of me, the mere touch. He tangled a hand in my hair, clearly working hard to restrain himself from simply shoving his cock down my throat. He moved his hips up and down with my mouth, matching me stride for stride. I hummed in pleasure, knowing the vibrations would send him over the edge. I was right.

  Cole jerked his hips and moaned, “Ohhhh!” Forgetting himself for a moment, he pushed my head down so that his thick, hard cock pressed into the back of my throat, threatening to nearly choke me as he shot his hot, heavy load into my mouth. I gagged slightly and he moved to pull away but, still needing to prove myself, I refused to let go, instead bobbing up and down on his cock a few final times while he groaned and let his hands fall helplessly to his sides.

  Finally, I withdrew, sitting back, swallowing his seed, and wiping my mouth. Cole twitched a few times in the aftershocks of his orgasm, then opened his eyes and grinned at me incredulously. “Jesus, ‘Kenz. Are you sure you’ve never done that before?” he asked, tucking his spent member back into his boxers and zipping his jeans.

  I shrugged and shook my head. “I just wanted to make you feel good, Cole,” I told him truthfully. “And I knew what you wanted. I could feel it.”

  He stroked the side of my face, peering at me i
n wonder and awe. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, and pulled me up into his lap to kiss me full on the mouth.

  “Can you taste yourself?” I asked, pressing a finger to his lower lip. He laughed.

  “Probably. But nothing’s gonna keep me from kissing you, Mackenzie.”

  “Nothing?” I asked, my face breaking into a smile. He lightly kissed the end of my nose.

  “Absolutely fucking nothing,” he replied, resting his forehead against mine.

  Ten minutes later, we arrived in front of his apartment building. After paying the driver an outlandishly generous tip, we darted upstairs to shower off and cook lunch.

  That afternoon, he decided to show me some self-defense moves. He was the one to bring it up, but honestly, I was relieved. After the run in with that guy, I didn’t want to be caught off guard again, and having Cole teach me was the best thing I could think of.

  We practiced for hours, laughing and kissing in between sessions, until we got sleepy and fell into bed together, never leaving each other’s side.

  Cole

  The day of the wedding was the biggest media frenzy this city must have seen since my dad’s first wedding. I’d only seen pictures of that day, but there were a lot of them, given how publicized the event had been, and now, everything looked about the same—the outside of the estate crawling with five times as many press as there were actual wedding guests. And like the photos, I didn’t recognize two-thirds of the family and friends that did show.

  The décor was even the same, more or less, even if the fashion of the attendees was nothing like it was back then. Similar stream of top-of-the-line cars carrying the same types of people, catering from what looked like the same famous restaurant, and the same old fake smile on Dad’s face.

  He was waving to the paparazzi outside the property while holding the arm of some old aunt of his who’d been a star back before even his heyday. If there was one thing he was good at, it was acting, and he was putting on the most likeable show he possibly could for the cameras. You could hardly tell this was his second marriage, except for his kids’ being there, and instead of Chelsea, it was Mackenzie there with me. Her mom, of course, couldn’t be seen beforehand, so she was busy getting ready, and Mackenzie had to slip away periodically to help with that, but I’d insisted that she stick by my side as much as she could. I wished we didn’t have to take precautions on a day like this, but I could never be too careful with how many friends Dad had here. The less of a chance the media had to ask about the two of us living together and the rumored falling-out I’d had with Dad, the better. And even if they did, Mackenzie and I had been preparing for this day with answers for them.