by Nicole Snow
I don't need a reminder. I'm going to love and serve this man until the day and I die, and I know he'll do the same for me. Mostly, I can't wait to feel him carry me to our room later, lay me on the bed, and give me everything my body's been aching for the last three months.
Kiss the bride.
I hear him say it and look up, darting away from Chris. Big mistake. The SEAL pulls me in with the same rough precision that always makes me gasp. His hands pinch around my waist and he rips my veil back, twining his tongue with mine, the way he does before he rips my clothes off and sinks into me.
But we can't do that here. Not yet.
Sweet Jesus. I don't know how I'm going to survive an entire evening of being teased at the dinner reception. Maybe dancing with him for the first time since our disastrous summer party will help...or else make me wish there's another wine cellar for us to sneak away to.
People are still clapping and cheering by the time he breaks the kiss. I can tell he doesn't want to, feeling the same lava in his pulse each time his tongue brushes mine, sucking me deeper.
“You'd better keep that pussy good and wet for me, babe. I want you soaked 'til I get your legs apart,” he growls, brushing his stubble over my cheek. “We're going to have a helluva time walking this town tomorrow after I'm through with you tonight.”
Shit. My pussy tingles so sharp and hot I can feel my pulse pounding in my temples.
My new husband takes me by the hand and leads me out, past the screaming throngs, and into the limo downstairs. We cruise down the Vegas strip with me perched on his lap, dangerously close to the cock I want inside me so bad.
Every time I brush my hand against him, he takes my wrist and stops me, shooting me a devilish look.
“Not yet. Good things come to girls who wait.”
“Tease.” I straddle him. It's hard in the dress, but somehow I manage, gripping his shoulders harder. “Don't tell me getting hitched is softening you up already, bad boy. The Chris I know would hold me down and fuck me right in the back of this car.”
“It's called being responsible – pretty damned important with what we're gonna do. Besides, I know I'll knock you up sooner if this sweet little cunt's on fire for me all day.” Without warning, he reaches underneath my skirt, pushes up my thigh, and shoves my panties aside.
Gasping, squirming, I push my face against his neck until I'm practically drooling on his nice new uniform. It's so wrong, so dirty, so fucking insane to get married and start a family like this.
It's supposed to be all about love and devotion, a lifetime together. Instead, I'm thinking about our pleasure, how much I love this man, and how complete I'm going to feel when he's planted his seed inside me.
I dropped my birth control a couple months ago. We've gone back to condoms the last few weeks, saving ourselves for this night, the beginning of a non-stop fuckfest that I know will bring us closer than ever. He's going to give me everything I ever wanted, some amazing miracles I can't yet imagine.
I want it all. I want him. I need him to bring me off right here!
Too bad the car pulls up to the fancy spot where we're having the reception. His fingers press deep into my pussy, and his thumb whirls around my clit, sending me so close to coming my legs shake.
“Hold that thought, baby. We need to get out. Here comes our chauffeur.”
I look at him like I've just bitten into a lemon. I barely manage to get off him in time and straighten my clothes, finally understanding the meaning of blue balls – and the only thing I know about any balls at all just now is how badly I want his emptying deep inside me.
The reception is just a total blur of lust and laughter and love. Our food and friends are exquisite, everything I expect from a wedding as amazing as ours.
Marnie and dad keep teasing us through the whole thing, telling us we'd better get to work making babies. Oh, if only they had any clue.
My best friend shows up with her new date, this lean computer geek from Seattle. He actually looks like a normal human being instead of someone who's been roasting in the sun too long. I have to do a double-take every time I watch them moving, dancing, laughing together. It's a big change for her, and she seems to like it.
I'm not the only one here who feels all grown up.
Life keeps shifting into a higher gear, and I'm more thankful than ever I have this incredible warrior along for the ride so I don't get lost in its wake.
We dance like we haven't ever before, even that fateful night at dad's house.
He holds me closer, and his breathing matches mine, a slow, gradually building thunder. There's something sweet, liberating, and primal in his touch tonight.
We don't have anything to hide. We're free from our taboos and our screwed up families. We've survived the hell in our hearts and the storm in our bodies.
I know there will be hills and valleys in the years ahead, like any couple. But he's my flint and I'm his spark, and we're going to continue kindling something so bright and beautiful it makes my eyes start to water through the happiness, the desire, the need rubbing my veins raw.
“Oh, now you're getting sentimental? I was wondering how long it'd take.” He brushes away the tears streaming down my cheeks and kisses me until I smile.
“People are drunk, Delia. They're tapering off and going to find their own fun. You ready to make a baby, or what?”
“Yes!” I whisper back.
He rolls his hips against mine in a long, arching, intense hook. Somehow the deeper layers of fabric drag against my clit. I shudder in his arms, feeling like a fuse that's finally closing in on its charge.
God, yes. He grabs the back of my neck and holds me, domineering as ever, gazing into my eyes.
It's so hard not to get lost in each other. But right now I need to get lost in his flesh, and I lean in for a kiss, probing his tongue with mine in long, carnal strokes that leave no doubt about what I want.
“Then shake your pretty ass. I'm not sleeping 'til I find out how my new wife fucks in every damned position.”
“No way! You didn't!” I'm in his arms, running my hands over his rough, handsome face as he carries me in. I do a double take and start laughing when I see the bed.
It's even more ridiculous than the one in his old room. It's like a Victorian thing on steroids with posts reaching almost to the ceiling, and a burgundy canopy threatening to envelope us for days, leaving us stranded together.
“I specifically requested it. Didn't get a chance to do half the shit I wanted to with that old bed, and this thing gives me all kinds of ways to hold you down 'til you're pregnant.”
Pregnant. Just the word makes me grab him and kiss him, hungry and hard as I can.
Okay, yeah, it's a little early in my new career for a baby, but writing is always family friendly. He's talked about having a big family for months, and my panties burn a little more each time I think about our future.
I'm ready. I'm willing. And I'm going to give him the greatest gift of all.
“Get this damned thing off before I shred it,” he growls, pushing me onto the bed. We climb in together as he shoves the curtain shut.
I pick at my dress, trying to unwrap it, while he effortlessly drops out of his fancy uniform. There's no brakes once he's naked.
“Too slow. Now, you're losing those panties first, then everything except the heels.” I laugh and try to slap him away, but he's too determined.
He reaches up beneath my skirt and rips them down, spreading my legs. He doesn't bother getting my dress off before he shoves his face between my legs.
My fingernails reach for the smooth sheets and grab fistfuls. I pull them hard, tense, all I can do not to lose my mind as I'm sweating rivulets in my wedding dress, staining it with wild lust for this crazy, beautiful man.
Chris growls as he licks through my folds, tonguing my pussy before driving up to my clit. He draws it deep, holds it when I start to buck my hips, panting and calling his name.
Chris, Chris, Chris! His name be
comes a curse and a prayer before I'm too blitzed for words at all.
His fingers stroke my pussy while he laps my bud with insistent, fiery licks, sending me crashing into ecstasy. The white of my wedding gown engulfs everything as I see stars, coming on his face for the first time as a married woman.
I glide down from the high, but it fades less than ever. He pulls me up and lifts me out of the dress, surprisingly gently, using his SEAL precision.
“Hands on the post, babe. Don't move 'em 'til I say so.” He takes my hands and wraps them around the big corner post, spreading my thighs. “I'll hose you off in the morning with the champagne chilling in that bucket, whenever we're too exhausted to fuck again.”
Oh, God. With the edge in his voice, it sounds like it's going to be days, and my pussy pulses. He doesn't even need a belt or a rope this time – his words are enough to keep me bound where he wants me.
I'm still marveling at it when I feel his hands on my ass. He pushes into me with a firm, powerful thrust, grunting when he his cock drives deep into my unprotected depths.
My sex drive is off the charts since we went natural. I don't know if I've been off the stuff long enough to truly get pregnant, but I'm certainly going to try.
And with the way he's fucking me, so is he. He plows into me, stretching me open, shaking my entire body with a passion that's ten times more intense than every other time he's been inside me.
I'm thrown onto the precipice in a matter of minutes. He's drilling me, fucking me, owning me like the ring on my finger gives him permission to ravage me on demand, any way he wants.
Of course, it does, and I love it.
I'm screaming from the tension building between my legs when I start to come. Everything below my waist turns into a hot, twisted, sticky mess. My body explodes an instant, gushing on the sheets.
“Fucking shit, is finding out you're a squirter part of tonight too?” he growls, grabbing at my hair. “Doesn't matter, babe. Here it comes. I love you so goddamned much.”
It's the last thing he can say before his sounds become one long, drawn out growl. I feel his cock stab into me and stop, rooted, swelling in my pulsing silk. He's come inside me dozens of times before, but never like this.
When I feel his ropes shoot into me, it's somehow hotter, wilder, rich and mysterious with the stuff of life. My pussy convulses all over again, taking everything he has to offer, fusing with him until we're throbbing and groaning as one.
I'm his furnace that moment, and he's the fuel.
He's given me his energy, his life, and he's turned me into something marvelous. Now I'm going to take his love, his seed, and give him our entire future.
When the firestorm finally releases us, we lay tangled together, his huge inked body cocooning me. His cock feels good against my ass half-hard. I know it won't be long before he's ready again, and this is a perfect place to lift my leg and start while his hand covers my breast, flicking my nipple as we kiss.
“You're the hottest woman on the planet when you're wrapped around my cock,” he says, stamping his lips over my neck. “The new recruits are fucked. I'd tell 'em to find a good woman to push them through the bullshit overseas, but I've got myself the best. Nobody compares to you, sis.”
I turn my head, smiling into his bright green eyes. He hasn't called me that for awhile. It shouldn't be this exciting – especially when it's not even true anymore.
“We're not stepsiblings anymore, Chris. You shouldn't keep pretending.”
“Yeah, thank fuck. Pretending? Babe, I don't give a shit who or what the fuck you are. You're my woman, my bride, my property, my cement in this perfect family we're about to make. Is it so wrong I love you like a sister, a soul mate, and a whore all in one?”
His filthy words should shock me, but instead I just smile. The passion rolling out of his mouth still scares me sometimes in the best ways.
He's crazy, he's wonderful, and he's a badass. He's everything I'll ever want and all I'll ever need.
When I'm finally ready to answer him, I reach down and wrap my fingers around the length hardening against me, pulsing with new need that won't be satisfied until I'm his vessel again.
“I don't think anything with you will ever be wrong,” I say, gently stroking up and down, waiting for him to push my hand away and spread my legs. “I love you so much, husband. SEAL. Stepbrother.”
He grins, tangling his fingers through my hair, and pushing me onto my back. I watch as he moves between my legs, holding his cock at my entrance, full and teasing.
“Good. Let's use some of that love to find out who we'll be when we're complete.” He lowers his face to my ear, nipping at my earlobe before he speaks more. “Don't think I'll ever stop fucking you through the nursery rhymes and family holidays. I'll never get enough of your body, your taste, or the way you make my heart boom like a damned rocket.”
I run my hands over the angry dragon that's been re-inked since his scars healed, and the trident that reminds me every day I'm safe forever with this man.
He's right. I can feel his heartbeat. I let my palms linger there, pushing into his hard muscle as he sinks inside me, claiming me again.
We're both getting better with words, but there's still so much only our bodies can say. And right now, his talks loud and clear, telling me he'll love me forever.
Chris isn't just my stepbrother or a cocky SEAL I've fallen madly in love with. He's everything that makes me smile, want, and love.
He's my entire life. Unsealed, a little unhinged, and glorious.
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Kisses,
Nicole Snow
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SEXY SAMPLES: STEPBROTHER CHARMING
I: Hit the Floor
Visiting Club Zing is supposed to be my last hurrah, a post-college escape before the long summer falls across Seattle, and ushers me into grown up land. It's supposed to be my last girl's night out before distance makes things a whole lot harder.
So, why the hell can't I keep my eyes off him?
“What's up, Claire? You're nursing that thing like you're about to go away to Saudi Arabia for a year!” My best friend Dana points to my Long Island iced tea and lifts her own. “Come on! Put it down and keep up with me, girl. This is our night!”
Sighing, I raise my glass and clink it against hers. “Cheers,” we both echo.
Somehow, I'm not feeling it. I've never liked goodbyes. And I really don't like this other basta
rd stealing away the attention my bestie deserves, even if he's moving around the club like he owns the place, sculpted to leave more than a few pairs of panties scorched.
Who am I kidding? Is this seriously how it ends?
By now, I'd normally be holding back the tears and hugging Dana's shoulders while she takes her stompy boots out to the dance floor. I don't understand how she wears those things so gracefully – they look like something German soldiers used to march in – but they always make her the center of attention when she busts her moves.
I'm going to miss her stupid purple hair and how she can't let go of the goth look, even though she's pushing twenty-two, just like me. Hell, I'm going to miss this place. Mostly, I'm going to regret wasting this precious time with my eyes glued to the devil by the bar, the giant towering above everybody else.
It's so obvious I can't hide it anymore. Dana grins at me after a long, dizzying sip on her drink. She spins around and follows my eyes.
“Jesusss, Claire! Don't tell me you've never seen the owner before? Haven't you seen him?”
“Nope, never.” I shake my head. “That's the boss man? He's so young...”
My friend waves a hand, flashing the bright purple nails that match her hair dye. “Pssh. You'd own this place if your daddy was a billionaire too. That's Tyler Sterner. Playboy for life and easy on the eyes when he's actually here doing his job.”
My brow furrows. Seriously? This guy barely looks older than we are. It's even more amazing I haven't seen him around campus or here on our earlier outings. He's got the kinda body any woman with a beating heart would notice anywhere.
He's at the end of the bar, slapping some older, balding man on the back and laughing. Two plastic looking girls are at his side in short skirts, their ruby red lips and pearly white teeth grinning at him like statues.
Massive is a gross understatement. He puts everybody else in his shadow, even the other well-built guys next to him.
He looks like something from another age in the neat suit jacket wrapped around his broad shoulders. An aristocrat, maybe, remembering all the paintings I studied for my art history minor.