Stepbrother's Secret

by Anna Wineheart

  The baby kicked against his palm. Eric’s heart skipped. “Did you feel that?”

  Ollie cracked a smile. “I did. I think he missed you, too.”

  “He?” Eric looked sharply at him. “You did another ultrasound?”

  Olivier shook his head. “I just... had the feeling that it’s a boy. I don’t know for sure, though.”

  Eric dropped kisses all over Ollie’s face, just holding him. In case the police came to take him away. In the distance, the sirens wailed.

  “I don’t want you to go to jail,” Olivier said quietly. “I’ve been afraid of that all this time, with us being stepbrothers. If it really happens... that would be terrible.”

  “Yeah.” Eric took Ollie’s hand, pressing Ollie’s wrist to his jaw. So Ollie’s carnation scent would be on him, too. That was for luck, and for Ollie’s marking. Because if Eric did end up in jail... he wanted a reminder of Ollie. Wanted to remember Ollie’s smile, his laughter. “I love you, okay? In case anything happens.”

  “I love you, too,” Ollie said, his lower lip wobbling. “I’m sorry for putting you through everything.”

  “And I forgive you for that.”

  Ollie sighed, bowing his head. Eric cradled him. Together, they waited for the police to arrive.

  33

  Olivier

  Ollie only remembered to panic right as they stepped into his apartment. “Eric, wait—”

  “Been five hours, damn it,” Eric growled, hauling him through the front door. “Stupid police and their stupid protocols—”

  “Eric!” Ollie frowned.

  Eric paused in his grumbling, a tired smile tugging on his lips. “Yeah, I know.”

  They’d spent the better part of the day at the police station, reviewing the security footage of the parking lot. Eric had growled when he’d seen what Zan had done to Olivier, his entire body tensing up. Olivier had given statement after statement, and Eric had held him.

  But Zan was really dead. Olivier hadn’t anticipated the relief that had swept through him, easing the tense knots in his chest. Zan wouldn’t return to haunt him anymore. He wouldn’t torment Ollie with his cruelty again.

  It felt like that chapter of his life was finally over with.

  The police had released Eric on the basis of defending his omega. Now that they were finally home, Ollie felt the dull pain in his entire body, from earlier.

  But that wasn’t so important, though.

  What was important was the mess in Olivier’s living room—the dildos and lace and toys scattered through the apartment, not all of them sparkling clean.

  Eric paused just inside the living room, staring at the chaos. “The fuck?”

  Olivier’s face burned. He locked the door, discreetly plucking off a dildo he’d left on the wall. “Um. I, um. I’ve been kind of distracted.”

  The whole apartment smelled faintly of his musk. He’d been horny with the pregnancy the past few weeks, and it had been easier just to leave his dildos up on the walls and bedposts, so he didn’t have to keep readjusting their heights when he needed a good, immediate fuck.

  Except now Eric had seen the true horrors of Olivier’s mess, and maybe this might convince him to change his mind. Olivier’s heart pattered.

  Eric’s gaze swept across the apartment, a low growl in his throat. “How often were you using these?”

  “Maybe, um, twice a day.” Olivier tugged on Eric’s hand, trying to hurry him to the bedroom so he’d forget the chaos sooner. Please don’t mind. Please don’t think any worse of me. “Let’s just... let’s just not look at them.”

  But Eric backed him up against the nearest wall, his hands heavy on Ollie’s hips. “Who were you thinking about when you used them?”

  “Do you have to ask?” Ollie’s face grew so hot, it felt as though his skin might peel. No one else asked about his masturbatory habits. Olivier had fucked those dildos, imagining Eric’s hands on him, imagining Eric’s cock plowing inside his body, filling him with seed. He hadn’t wanted anyone else.

  “Yeah, I have to ask.” And Eric’s gaze bore into him, knowing. “Who, Ollie?”

  “You.”

  Eric’s smile grew; his eyes darkened. “You’re gonna have to tell me what exactly you thought about when you fucked yourself,” he growled, squeezing Ollie’s ass. “Gonna give me a blow-by-blow account.”

  Olivier groaned in embarrassment. “Why?”

  “So I can do it to you.” Eric grinned. “In person. And twice as hard.”

  That sent a coil of heat straight between Olivier’s legs. Musk rolled off his skin; he squirmed, unable to help raking his eyes over Eric’s strong chest, the way his pecs stretched his shirt.

  “Missed me?” Eric murmured, cupping Ollie lightly between the legs.

  “Yes,” Ollie hissed. He still couldn’t believe Eric was here. Couldn’t believe Eric still loved him, couldn’t believe that Eric still wanted Olivier to be his omega. And his cock hardened at Eric’s touch, as though Eric could command Olivier’s arousal at will. “Eric, please.”

  “Gonna have to be more specific.” Eric patted Ollie’s cock, then tugged Ollie’s shirt up his belly. “Or I’ll think you’re begging for some tickle torture.”

  “That’s not what I want!” Olivier cracked a smile. Eric rubbed his palm down Olivier’s baby bump, then swept him off his feet. “Eric!”

  “Yeah, that’s it,” Eric growled. “Scream my name.”

  “You devil!”

  “C’mon, you can call me worse names.” Eric laughed. “How about ‘you sexy fucker’?”

  “That too.” Ollie smiled wider, his doubts from before fading.

  Then Eric set him down in front of the master bathroom counter, and Olivier caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

  Zan’s beating had left his face tender with pain. Olivier’s cheeks were puffy, his lower lip split, and one eye had swollen half-shut. This was what Eric had been flirting with?

  Horrified, Olivier turned away from the mirror. He hadn’t thought he looked this bad. There’d been no mirrors in the police station restroom.

  Eric glanced up from undoing Olivier’s pants. “What’s wrong?”

  “I look terrible,” Olivier mumbled. “Why are you still hitting on me?”

  Eric pressed a kiss to Olivier’s belly. “What, so you want bed rest and a cold compress? I could do that, too.”

  “No!” Olivier smacked his shoulder. “I mean... I look awful. This is a face you want to see in bed?”

  “Yeah.” Eric shrugged. “You’re still you, Ollie. Remember the time you fell on your face in middle school? You were crying about it for days.”

  “But...” Olivier sneaked another look in the mirror, and turned away just as quickly. “But you weren’t going to sleep with me then.”

  “You’re my omega,” Eric said simply, pushing Ollie’s pants and briefs down his legs. “I’ll admit that I have a thing for your pretty face. But if you lose that, it’s not a big deal.”

  Olivier’s heart squeezed. After all the times he’d pushed Eric away, after the shit he’d said to Eric... “You’re too good to me.”

  Eric smiled crookedly. “Can’t help who we love, right?”

  Ollie swallowed hard.

  Eric had said Olivier deserved his love, but right now, Ollie was still in a state of disbelief. He felt as though he was cradling Eric’s love to his chest, admiring it like a crown jewel he wasn’t meant to have.

  Eric’s hands swept warm down his shins, his palm steady behind Olivier’s knee. Then he glanced up, meeting Ollie’s eyes. “I want you to be happy, you know.”

  “I...” Olivier’s chest squeezed tight. He hugged his belly, staring at the alpha kneeling at his feet. Imagined, just for a second, that Eric was truly his again. That would be a dream come true.

  “C’mon, let’s get you showered. Gonna get you clean, and then I’m gonna mark you. All mine.” Eric grinned, slow and possessive, and Olivier’s insides melted.

  Er
ic stripped, too. He helped Olivier into the shower, standing Ollie under the warm spray. Ollie’s face stung; he hissed.

  Eric cupped Olivier’s head with gentle hands, shielding his face from the spray. Then he rubbed Ollie’s tender cheeks with his thumbs, working lather into Ollie’s skin.

  “You can stand looking at this?” Olivier mumbled.

  “I don’t care what you look like, as long as you’re mine.” Eric washed the shell of Ollie’s ears, then brushed his hands down Ollie’s neck and shoulders, his touch soothing. “I’ve seen you at your worst, Ollie. This isn’t it.”

  “What’s my worst?” Olivier dared to ask.

  “Maybe when you puked on me.” Eric smiled. “Or that time when you’d gotten so drunk in high school that you just stank of puke and booze, and you walked right into me and said, ‘Stupid fucking pig’.”

  Olivier winced. “I... called you that? I don’t remember it.”

  “Sure you did.” Eric laughed. “And I’m still here, aren’t I?”

  “But you weren’t going to sleep with me then.”

  Eric rolled his eyes. “Being your alpha is more than just sleeping with you, Ollie. But I’m definitely looking forward to the sleeping part.” He wrapped his soapy hand around Ollie’s cock and tugged, and a jolt of pleasure slid up Ollie’s spine. Blood rushed between his legs; his cock thickened. Eric smirked. “Believe me now?”

  “Maybe.” Not really.

  Eric sighed. “You promised me you weren’t gonna lie, Ollie.”

  Olivier winced, remembering it too late. “Sorry. I’ll... work on it. It’s a bit of a habit.”

  Eric sighed again. “Yeah, I figured. You had to lie all the time to Mom and Dad, didn’t you?”

  Olivier rolled his shoulders. That wasn’t something he consciously remembered.

  “I realize now that it’s probably because we’re stepbrothers,” Eric said quietly. “That you were forced to hide whatever you felt for me. And I also realize that you might lie on instinct. But I want you to know that your true feelings are safe with me. You don’t have to worry about me judging you.”

  Olivier read the honesty in Eric’s eyes, the acceptance. And his heart swelled, so very hungry for Eric’s love.

  “Okay,” Olivier whispered. “I’ll remember that.”

  “Good,” Eric said, pressing his palm over Ollie’s heart. He slipped his hand against Olivier’s nape, leaning in to kiss Ollie. Olivier opened for him hungrily, gasping when Eric slid a soapy hand down his chest, catching his nipples.

  Eric stroked them; pleasure tingled down Ollie’s veins. He arched, only to have Eric’s smirk grow.

  Despite the lack of control Ollie had, he felt safe with Eric. He always had.

  Eric broke the kiss. “Now, I’m gonna wash you up,” he rumbled. “Get you scrubbed clean so it’s a new beginning. And then I’m gonna mark you all over.”

  Olivier’s body sang with anticipation. He would be Eric’s after this. “Yeah,” he panted. “Okay.”

  Eric grabbed a clean washcloth. He ran it under the warm water, lathering it up. Then he washed Ollie’s swollen face as gently as he could, terrycloth catching on Olivier’s skin. He scrubbed under Ollie’s arms and between his fingers, then ran slow, smooth strokes over Ollie’s belly bump.

  His gaze intent, Eric washed Olivier’s back. Then he knelt at Ollie’s feet, washing down his legs and between his toes. Olivier squirmed, his hole squeezing, hungry for his alpha’s touch. Eric had saved his most sensitive spots for last.

  When Eric finally wrapped the washcloth around Olivier’s sac, Ollie’s balls had pulled up close to his body, his cock straining. Eric’s gaze lingered there, hungry.

  “What’re you looking at?” Olivier whispered.

  “Something I wanna taste,” Eric growled.

  Ollie throbbed.

  After a distracted pause, Eric stroked the terrycloth around Ollie’s balls, squeezing them lightly. Ollie couldn’t help rolling his hips, chasing his pleasure.

  “You’re so damn hard for me,” Eric growled, stroking the washcloth up Olivier’s cock.

  It felt like a lumpy, hot mouth around him; pleasure hummed down his nerves. “Eric—”

  Eric’s grin widened. “You like that.”

  “Feels good,” Ollie mumbled, holding onto Eric’s shoulders for support. “Everything you do feels good.”

  It was just a little embarrassing, knowing his cock was pointed right at Eric’s face, begging for Eric’s touch. Not that Olivier could see it past his belly.

  Eric wrapped the washcloth around Olivier’s cock, tugging on him a couple times. “Just to make sure it’s clean,” he growled.

  Then he dragged Ollie’s foreskin down, exposing his sensitive tip. Eric stroked the terrycloth right over it. Pleasure burned through Olivier’s body; his knees buckled.

  Eric caught Olivier by the hip, steadying him. “Too sensitive?”

  “You know it is,” Olivier mumbled, pulling his foreskin back over his tip.

  Except Eric dragged it back down, holding Olivier’s cock exposed. “Not done yet. This is your punishment for lying.”

  And he circled Ollie’s bare tip with that terrycloth, sending sparks of pleasure down Ollie’s nerves, until his legs shook and he panted, dripping onto Eric’s fingers.

  “Th-That’s not punishment,” Olivier gasped.

  “Sure it is.”

  Eric’s face was inches away from Ollie’s cock. He blew lightly onto Ollie, his breath warm and heavy. Ollie jerked; Eric smiled. Then he rubbed the underside of Ollie’s head, where there was a cluster of nerves.

  Olivier cried out, precome squirting from his tip. “Eric!”

  “What do you want?” Eric blew on him again. Then he wrapped the washcloth around Olivier’s tip, squeezing it. Olivier shuddered, his body overloaded with pleasure, his balls heavy with need. Couldn’t hold on for much longer, the way Eric tormented him.

  “I d-don’t know. I can’t hold on.”

  “You’re gonna have to.” Eric smirked. “Your cock’s all dark red now, but I have faith in you.”

  And he unwrapped the washcloth, sliding it up between Ollie’s cheeks, right against his hole. Before Olivier could react, Eric kissed his tip and took Ollie’s cock into his mouth.

  It was hot inside him, damp and snug. Eric sucked. Olivier shuddered, dripping into his mouth. Felt like all his nerves had lit up, Eric’s tongue teasing them one by one.

  “Mm,” Eric said around him. “Salty.”

  Olivier couldn’t breathe. Needed more air. “You don’t have to tell me.”

  Eric’s smile grew. And he pushed the washcloth right against Olivier’s hole, scrubbing him there.

  “Making sure it’s clean,” he said, his words muffled.

  Then he pushed a fingertip into Olivier’s body, washcloth and all, and Olivier came so fast he couldn’t even warn Eric about it. Pleasure crashed through his body; he jerked and spurted into Eric’s mouth, his cock jerking against Eric’s tongue.

  No matter how many times they’d done this, it felt forbidden and delightful, filling Eric with his own come.

  “Mm.” Eric sucked every last drop from Ollie’s cock, pulling away with a satisfied grin. “Bitter. Tasty.”

  “You put the washcloth inside me,” Ollie panted, his head swimming.

  “Just the tip.” Eric grinned, squeezing Olivier’s thighs. He sat Ollie down in the tub, then soaped himself down.

  Olivier watched him, Eric all sleek and powerful. This was his alpha. He still couldn’t believe it, but his body did.

  Water sluiced off Eric’s chest, down his hips, his cock pushing up hungrily. That would fit inside Ollie’s hole. And somehow, despite how recently he’d come, his cock stirred.

  Eric’s eyes darkened. “Want more, huh?”

  “I can’t have enough of you,” Ollie croaked.

  “Good. ‘Cuz the same goes for me. I want to keep you in bed and fuck you all night.” Eric grinned. “Fuck you through t
he mattress?”

  Yeah, Olivier was ready for that. “If you break the bed, we’ll need a new one.”

  “We’ll skip the bed and put the mattress on the floor.” Eric laughed, stroking his cock. “Can’t really fuck you through the floor.” At Olivier’s disappointment, Eric added, “I mean, we could try.”

  “The neighbors will be scandalized!”

  “Best if we do it over their bed,” Eric answered. “So we’ll have a softer landing.”

  “You’re terrible!” Olivier grinned.

  “Only for you.” Eric grinned back.

  He shut off the shower, grabbing towels for both of them. Scarcely had Ollie wrapped the towel around himself, when Eric scooped him out of the bathtub. “Eric!”

  “Tickle torture?” Eric hauled Ollie closer, blowing a raspberry against his bonding mark.

  For a second, Olivier couldn’t breathe. Eric kissing his scent gland like that? He hadn’t done it in such a long time. And Ollie remembered those days, when they’d both been so happy. When Olivier had felt like he was Eric’s.

  “What’s wrong?” Eric murmured.

  “I—” Olivier gulped “—Are you going to... to mark me?”

  Eric’s gaze turned molten-hot. “Where do you want me to mark you?”

  His throat tight, Olivier whispered, “Everywhere.”

  34

  Olivier

  Eric rumbled, setting Olivier gently on the bed. He flung aside his own bath towel, peeling Ollie’s towel open. And Olivier couldn’t help lying still, Eric’s heavy gaze raking down his body, leaving his nerves tingling in its wake.

  “You’re so damn beautiful,” Eric murmured.

  “Even with my face?”

  “Even with your face. I’m relieved that it’s all he did to you, Ollie. Could’ve been much worse.”

  He was right.

  Eric braced his arms next to Ollie’s shoulders, just staring down at him. In the quiet of the bedroom, with the traffic a muffled rumble and the sun a bright glow through the window, Olivier felt something settle in his chest.