“The covers,” I whisper to Harrison when I’ve managed to separate from his kiss for a moment. He grins down at me like a wolf about to get a whole farms-worth of pigs to gobble up, and then tugs at the comforter until it’s pushed to the side. Harrison’s strokes the silk of my PJ’s. “Nice,” he says. “Do you always wear this sexy shit to bed by yourself?”
I stare at him in mock horror. “Of course not. Just when I know my stepbrother is going to sneak into my bedroom to deflower me under my father’s roof.”
Harrison looks a bit ashamed and I grin. “Don’t underestimate the importance of good underwear and nightwear, Harrison Stone.”
“Never again,” he says, putting his hand on his heart like he’s swearing an oath.
“Now get over here and show me what I’ve been missing.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Rather than kissing me again, he sits up on his knees and looks down at me, rubbing his big, strong hands over my thighs. “All the things I want to do to you, Jenna,” he says. “You have no fucking idea how much I think about you. How many times I fantasized about us being together. I saw you watching me the other day,” he grins.
“What?” I don’t understand what he’s talking about immediately and when I do I’m indignant. “I wasn’t watching you. Stop trying to make me out to be some kind of pervert.”
“I left the door open on purpose. It turned me on so much to know that you were looking. It took all my restraint not to look up at you and tell you what I want to do to you.”
I shake my head, realizing how stupid we have both been, playing games with each other when, if we’d given clearer signs, we might have come together sooner.
“Can I look at you, Jenna?” he murmurs. “I felt you last night, but I didn’t get to see all of you.”
I nod and lift my top off over my head, bearing my breasts to him. Harrison reaches forward and takes them into his palms and squeezes gently, then strokes his thumbs over the tips of my nipples until they are hard, pointed and dark rose pink.
He runs his hands down my sides, mapping my curves and then circling my belly button with his finger. He traces the edge of my PJ shorts and I watch as he inches them down, his eyes following the fabric down to my feet.
“Look at you,” he says, so reverently I suddenly feel a bit tearful. I don’t know how we got to this point, but I’ve wanted to be with him so much, that now we are finally here it almost feels too much. “You’re beautiful, Jenna, baby. So beautiful.”
He eases my knees apart until I’m spread open before him. When he looks between my legs his expression changes. “You look so sore,” he says. “Is that from last night?”
I go to close my legs, but he holds them open, looking mortified. “Don’t,” I say.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he says. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Fuck, Harrison. You didn’t okay. It felt good, but you’re really big down there. I’m not used to it.”
“Everyone thinks that having a big dick is the best thing in the world. They don’t realize how fucking impractical it can be.”
“Hey,” I say. “I love your big dick. You’ve just got to let me recover in between.”
He smiles down at me then looks thoughtful. “I know we’re not going to be able to fuck again but can I make you feel good baby. Can I make you come?”
I nod and he leans down between my legs and licks my clit gently. “I promise I won’t hurt you,” he says, then licks again.
I moan at the perfect pressure, watching him take such pleasure in giving it to me. He uses his thumbs to press me open and licks and licks as though I’m the best dessert he’s ever tasted and he just can’t get enough. I can’t get enough of his mouth and those lips that are plump and soft against my ravaged flesh. It feels so good to have his soothing touch, so amazingly good to feel the point of his tongue against me until I’m writhing against his mouth and he grabs hold of my thighs to hold me in place.
“Don’t stop,” I hiss, legs trembling against his hands. “I’m going to…I’m going to….”
He taps my clit once with his finger, hard, and I’m coming and coming, legs straight and toes curled, mind lost somewhere in that foggy sex place that’s a little bit of heaven and hell all rolled into one. Heaven because of how amazing it feels to reach that peak and slide right off the top. Hell, because you know it’s not going to last and you wish it would. Just a few more seconds of perfection and peace and tranquility. I don’t register how long I’m lost for but when I come around Harrison is watching me, looking very pleased with himself. He strokes a finger between my pussy lips, gliding in the wetness he made, then brings it to his lips.
“I love the way you taste,” he says. “So perfect.”
My eyes slide down the slice of man-lusciousness that is kneeling up between my legs; god, his chest is something like a phenomenon and his little brown nipples…looking at them makes my clit pulse again. Lower, his abs are so tight and mmmm. And between his legs stands the real spectacle of miraculousness. Harrison’s cock looks so hard it must be painful.
“Show me,” I say, looking at his bulge and raising my eyebrows so he knows exactly what I’m talking about.
“You wanna see how hard I am for you?” he mutters, sounding a little bit distracted with lust.
“Yeah, show me.” I sit up and watch as he eases the waistband of his boxers down and his cock springs free. Looking at it now, I have no idea how I managed to fit that inside me. No wonder I’m sore. It looks so damn good and my pussy is suddenly all achy and ready for him again. I crawl to the edge of my bed and pull out the tube of lube I keep in my nightstand drawer. Harrison watches me like a coiled snake, ready to strike at any second. I crawl back and kneel in front of him squeezing some of the cold lube into my hands and rubbing them together. His cock kicks in anticipation, flexing and tapping his belly as I reach for him. He feels like velvet in my fist, soft smooth skin over a rock hard center. He shakes as I move my hand firmly up and down, watching the explicit show I’m giving him with eyes that must look so damn hungry. I lean forward and lick the tip of him, tasting his salt-sweet arousal and loving the soft moan he makes when I wrap my lips around his cock and suck gently.
“Fuck, Jenna,” he hisses, as I circle my tongue around his cock, licking and sucking in a way that seems to drive him wild.
“Look at your pretty mouth,” he says. “Look at your sweet little lips wrapped around my big cock. Do you know how good that looks…how good it feels?”
I remember how he liked me to bite him and I try it gently, just a little nip with my teeth and he groans so loudly I panic that he’s going to wake our parents. “Fuck,” he grunts. “Do that again.” I bob my head, taking him in deeper, then as I pull back I nip him and he grabs my head and holds it totally still. “You gotta stop, Jenna. Or I’m gonna come and I know you didn’t go crawling for that lube for nothing.”
I pull back and lick my lips, then lie back with my legs spread wide. “Come on then big boy,” I say, beckoning with my finger. I reach for the lube again and pour some over my fingers, smoothing it around my pussy and pushing my fingers inside. Harrison watches it all, fisting his cock in pulls that look too harsh to be pleasurable.
“I’m ready,” I say when I’ve done everything I can to ease the journey. Harrison shuffles forward, pushing his knees under my thighs and using the tip of his cock to probe me between the legs. He’s so smooth and warm and it feels so good when he rubs over my clit and then pushes in a little bit. He does that again and again, each time opening me up just a little more until the head of his cock eases in easily and he holds totally still, watching me carefully.
“You okay, Jenna?” he asks.
“Yeah, baby,” I answer because I am. I won’t deny that it stings a bit but the look on his face and the concern in his voice soothes it all away. He pours some lube over the place where our bodies are now joined and smooths it around, then thrusts to get in deeper. I watch his abs flex, h
is fingers grip tighter into the flesh of my hips, his face furrowed with concentration. I know how it feels to accept a man into my body, but I have no idea what it must be like for him. Is it different if you’re the one that is pushing in? Does it feel different to be so in control? He looks like it’s hurting him for a while but I think that’s just the restraint it must be taking to get his huge cock into me without making me wince. The thing is, with each little thrust he makes, I feel myself giving way from pain to pleasure. It’s so amazing to be doing this with Harrison as the real me, not the me that was ashamed to want my stepbrother or the me who was sad afterwards when I knew it wasn’t going to happen again.
I look up into his face and reach out to cup his cheek. When his eyes meet mine they fill with warmth and he drops down closer so he can cup my face too.
“Jenna.” He breathes against my cheek and presses soft kisses along the line of my jaw. “Why did we wait so long to do this?”
“I don’t know,” I say pulling him down to kiss my lips. I suck on his full bottom lip, nibbling it gently and he moans, thrusting harder and gripping my hair. “I wanted you so much. I couldn’t bear the idea that I might never be with you. It’s why I came to the party so I could be with you just one time. But it never would have been enough.”
He grips my chin tightly in his hand and stares at me in a way that makes my heart flutter. It’s hungry and passionate and filled with ferocious longing. “I love you, Jenna,” he says. “You know that don’t you?”
I try to shake my head, stunned that he’s saying he feels the same way I do, but he grips harder as though he’s trying to show me how strongly he feels. His hips change rhythm, circling and grinding as he stares at me. “I love you, Jenna. I have since those first weeks when mom and I moved in and we used to hook up in the den and watch 80’s action movies with microwave popcorn.”
I smile up at him because the memory of those early days, when we were getting to know each other but trying to pretend we didn’t really care, are so fresh in my mind and so filled with innocence. He’d always let me eat more than my fair share of the popcorn and choose the movie. When the room would get dark, we’d slump into opposite corners of the couch and sometimes I’d feel like he was looking at me but I’d be too embarrassed to check in case he was.
“That was before you started teasing me and calling me princess.”
“That was all affectionate,” he grins.
“Mmm…” I lose my train of thought because Harrison has gathered me up in his strong arms and kissed me so deeply I feel light headed. Each roll of his hips is taking me closer but it’s the tender way he’s treating me and the love I can see in his eyes that is what makes this the best sex I’ve ever had.
“I love you too, Harrison,” I whisper and moan contentedly. “I just never knew how to tell you without risking everything.”
“I know.” He reaches down and clasps my leg under the knee, drawing it up and round his waist. The deepness is exquisite. I feel so stretched open, so owned by him.
“Fuck you feel so good,” he says, “I want you to come on me, Jenna. Show me how good I make you feel.”
I grab hold and dig my fingers into his gloriously firm ass, pulling him towards me in short sharp thrusts that are exactly what I need to take me over the edge. He speeds up, into quick hard jerks and that’s it, I’m done for.
“Unnnnaah,” I cry, way too loudly and he covers my mouth with the palm of his hand and shushes me as my pussy clenches tight around his cock. I’m boneless, sweaty and properly fucked so when he pulls out and starts fisting his cock all I can do is watch. It takes five tight long pulls for him to come and he aims it at my belly, covering me in thick white steaks.
I look down at myself, and the disheveled, dirty and wanton girl that Harrison has turned me into. Then I look up at him; at his rumpled hair, heaving chest and sweat coated skin and I can’t help but laugh.
We are so perfect together it’s ridiculous.
Stepbrother or not, Harrison Stone is mine. And now I’ve got him, I’m never letting him go.
About the Author
Stephanie Brother writes scintillating stories with bad boys and stepsiblings as their main romantic focus. She’s always been curious about the forbidden, and this is her way of exploring such complex relationships that threaten to keep her couples apart. As she writes her way to her dream job, Ms. Brother hopes that her readers will enjoy the full emotional and romantic experience as much as she’s enjoyed writing them.
Keep up to date with new releases.
Mailing list - http://eepurl.com/bd7ajr
Twitter - https://twitter.com/SBrotherAuthor
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/stephaniebrother
Would you like to join the exclusive Stephanie Brother Street Team and receive free advanced copies of my latest releases in exchange for an honest review?
Sign up here! http://eepurl.com/bISssn
Also by Stephanie Brother
Huge X2 – A TWIN STEPBROTHER ROMANCE (MENAGE)
Description
There are rumors going around about my twin stepbrothers.
HUGE rumors.
I try to ignore gossip, but that’s easier said than done when it involves crazy sex stuff and verified reports about the size of things that a stepsister should know nothing about.
Ethan and Nathan are the identically gorgeous hunks of man flesh that have just moved into my house. Even before the rumors, I could barely look at them, with their ridiculously twinkly blue eyes, and smiles that turn me into a mindless puddle of goo.
We’re supposed to be family and I’m trying my hardest to be a welcoming little stepsister. But then I overhear them talking about things I am definitely not supposed to know, and suddenly I realize I’m in double trouble.
HUGE X2 is the story of a girl’s realization that the best things in life come in extra-large, twin packs.
EXCERPT
1
DOUBLE TROUBLE
When people ask me if I have brothers or sisters I usually tell them no; then I remember Ethan and Nathan and blush furiously at my mistake. See, I was an only child until I turned nineteen, so it’s strange to suddenly find myself with two huge stepbrothers and a whole new status as a little sister.
Tiny is what they call me. Sometimes Titch. Midget is a favorite too. And Peanut. Whatever name they give me, I hate it. The whole teasing thing is something totally new to me, and at first I really didn’t know how to take it. Girls who grow up with real brothers are toughened up from birth. I got the joy of having to learn as an adult.
After a year, I’ve grown used to the teasing, but not their size. At five foot three, I’m a fraction under the average height for a girl, but Ethan and Nathan are towering hunks of men that loom over me at six foot three and a half. They like to remind me of the half, as though being a foot taller isn’t enough for them to be happy. Sometimes I feel like they’re as broad as they are tall, with their ridiculous shoulders and chests with more hills and valleys than a national park. And their thighs. Oh god, their thighs are just so massive and muscular that their pants look like they might split at any moment.
Did I mention how gorgeous they are? When I pass them in the hallway I find myself leaning against the wall, not only because they seem to take up most of the space wherever they are, but because looking at them is like looking into the beams of a passing car; I’m dazed until they have passed, and even for a few moments afterwards.
All my friends are blatant in their jealousy. “I can’t believe you get to share a house with the Stanmore twins,” they say. They’ve heard the rumors about them too. The whispers about the size of things I should know nothing about, and how well they know how to use them. There are darker tales too, tales that keep me awake at night. Apparently they like to share, and I’m not talking about KFC family buckets here.
I keep quiet when Katelin and Abigail gossip about them. I don’t get involved in the speculation about who they are fucking a
nd what it must be like. Instead, I tell my friends about all the annoying things that come with having them live with me: how their shoes are like a row of canoes by our front door, and how I can never find any snacks in the cupboards because they eat everything in sight.
As much as I complain about them, I actually secretly like having them around. My house was pretty boring when it was just me and mom. Now I have a stepfather who’s hilarious, and a home that’s always full of people. We have cookouts and movie nights, and everything’s so much more fun than it used to be.
That’s why my secret is kind of terrible. It’s why I haven’t told anyone, not even my best friend Katelin. It’s not that she’s particularly judgmental or prudish or anything. It’s just that when you think you might be in love with your twin stepbrothers, anyone would find that news shocking. I mean, what am I thinking? For one, they’re two years older than me and always have these perfectly amazing looking girls buzzing around them like flies on unmentionable stuff. For two, they seem to think I am just available as a source of amusement. For three, and most importantly, they’re twins.
There are two of them.
Did I mention they’re twins and not just one person?
I wish they were one person.
Sometimes I fantasize that I creep into their room in the middle of the night, and with my imaginary super strength, pick one of them up and slot him inside the other, like human fleshy Russian dolls. But then I get caught up on which one of them I’d slide into the other, and what that would mean. If I chose to slot Ethan inside Nathan, would that leave me with bubbly Eth or cuddly Nath? I get my fantasies tangled and complicated with feelings because I could never choose between them, not even in my mind.
It’s Saturday night, and I should be out having fun. I want to find the prospect of going to a bar with my friends appealing. I’ve been single for ten months, basically since I realized that every time I kissed my boyfriend, I was imagining other faces. Katelin has been hassling me about going out more. I think she thinks that I’m depressed. I know she’s worrying about my abnormal dislike of socializing, but I just don’t find the prospect of going out and talking to other men appealing in any way. I want to kick back in my living room and hope that Ethan and Nathan are tired from working out and come to hang out with me. They always want to watch sports, and I get a lot of criticism for begging to watch movies. When they eventually cave to my womanly tactics – pouting, sulking, and threats to knee them in very tender places – they join me on our ark of a couch for a marathon of 80’s teen movies. I hold the popcorn because they don’t eat carbs after 5 pm, and they provide the hilarious running commentary on fashion and hairstyles. You see, that’s how I know they love The Breakfast Club and St Elmo’s Fire as much as I do. And don’t get me started on Pump up the Volume. Christian Slater rules.
BIG D: A SPORTS ROMANCE Page 18