Blake opened the window so the food smells wouldn’t seep into the car cushions. When I reached inside the bag to taste a piece of the stromboli, Blake yelled, “Hey! Not in the Ferrari, Jenna!”
“I didn’t touch it! Yeesh.” I held my hands up in surrender.
Good thing I didn’t tell him I had already taken a bite of my pepperoni slice and wiped my fingers on my jeans.
Much later, after dining on an open-air patio on the grounds of the Castle Hotel and saving what was left of the Pizzeria fare, we tried the cake.
“Yum. This reminds me of flourless chocolate cake. You know, like the one Finale makes in Boston,” I said between bites. “If you want more, you’d better start eating again.”
Blake looked down at the dessert, which was now over a third consumed, and picked up his fork. “Damn, Jenna.”
“What?” I said defensively. “It’s fudgy brownie-like heaven!”
Blake rolled his eyes.
The cake disappeared. I propped my feet up on a spare seat, and Blake sipped at his water. The night was warm due to it being so close to summer, and we slipped into silence and that fullness of a good meal.
It wasn’t clear that I had fallen asleep until I felt Blake tap me on the shoulder. “Jenna. Jenna.”
I snapped upright. “Mmm. Too much good eating.”
Blake laughed. “I know. But we should probably head inside.”
Nodding, I stretched and rubbed my arms to keep chill away. When I looked over at Blake, though, he made no move to get up. He was just sitting there, chin on one hand, staring at me. I blinked. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Blake said.
Why was he looking at me like that, then?
“Nothing’s wrong. That’s the problem.” He sighed. “I know that realistically, every day can’t be as good as this. Not even close. But I do want it to be this interesting.”
His eyes never left my face. I shivered but didn’t break the stare. “Yes?”
He cleared his throat. “This is usually the time when I show a girlfriend just how happy I am.”
My whole neck and face must have burned bright scarlet. “Today made you happy?”
Blake smiled a little and shook his head. “No. You did that.”
I started to rise, but suddenly he rushed upon me, and he kissed me fiercely with complete abandon, the way I could imagine kissing in the middle of sex, hot and rough and demanding, forcing me to yield to him, stealing my breath and holding my head to his. Reacting to him was unconscious, like breathing. The movements came from something exposed and needy inside. I pressed myself against him, feeling his groin, his cock hardening against my belly.
He broke away long enough to let me get some air. “Jenna,” he rasped. “I have to have you.” His arms were vices around my back locking me to him. There was no mistaking the desire in his eyes. He ravaged my mouth until I was gasping for breath. Blake covered my jawline, my neck with kisses. “Say yes,” he whispered, nibbling at my ear.
Why not? I had been telling him yes in my mind for five years; saying it out loud was just one more word.
Once we did this, there was no going back.
I hesitated only for a second. “Yes.”
His body was pleased by my reply. I could feel it.
“I want to fuck you into next Tuesday, and I would if we had the time,” Blake growled. “For now, tonight will have to do.”
My feet made a valiant effort to keep up with him, but his stride was much longer than mine, so when dragging me by the hand wasn’t getting us to the elevator fast enough, he slipped his arm under my knees, and picked me up. I squealed in surprise, then buried my head in his shoulder in embarrassment. There were other people in the hotel, after all.
“Is the lady all right, sir?” a bellhop asked. I peeked out through my hair. He was wheeling baggage past us as Blake stepped into the elevator.
“She’s fine, just tired,” Blake said calmly, hitting the button for our floor. “But thank you for your concern.”
“Of course, sir,” the bellhop said, but the door was already sliding shut.
I tossed my hair back and pouted. “I can walk just fine.”
“Not very fast.” He exited the elevator and didn’t let me go until he kicked the door shut.
“Blake—”
I forgot what I was going to say when he pounced on me, continuing what we had started in the garden. He was in control, although control wasn’t really the right word to describe the frenzied lust that had taken hold of him and was quickly infecting me with the same fever. He dipped his head to taste the skin just above my breasts. Not satisfied with my fumbling at undoing the buttons, he took one side in each hand and tore it open. The buttons scattered and flew everywhere as he reached inside my bra to fondle my breasts.
“That shirt was Roberto Cavalli,” I protested weakly, gasping as he dragged the lace of my bra down so he could lick my nipple.
“I don’t care,” Blake mumbled, his lips humming around my flesh.
My fingers dug through his hair, clutching him to me. I kicked off my shoes, noting that he had already rid himself of his.
I had to feel him, touch his chest. I pulled on his arms until he let go of my nipple with a pop, then proceed to work on his buttons. I made it to the third one before I realized he had the right idea.
“Fair’s fair,” I said, smiling, and pulled his shirt open to the waist, ruining it in the process. More buttons, more rolling sounds. The cleaning people were going to hate us.
Blake licked his lips, and I took that as an invitation. I laved one nipple and reached down with my right hand to stroke the sizable bulge in his pants.
He didn’t give me the chance to explore him, though. Blake pulled out his belt, yanked my underwear down, and hoisted me up by my ass, wrapping my legs around his waist and slamming me roughly against the nearest wall.
A quick succession of movements and he was nude, and then I wasn’t just rubbing against the shape of his erection but his actual erection, my wetness evident on his stomach and feeling the heat of our desire, ragged and desperate for completion. Blake kissed me, hard, and then he guide his cock to my pussy and thrust in.
Blake and I were having sex. My brain was too fried to process this for a moment, and Blake was wasting no time clarifying what we were doing. We were fucking. He was fucking me. And he was really big.
I’m no sure what the first noise was that I made, since his mouth covered mine as he built up a bruising rhythm, sliding me up a little with each thrust as he filled me completely. This man had trapped me against him as his muscles flexed and he kept up the rhythm. He pinned my arms above my head and attacked my breasts with his tongue again before suckling and raking his teeth over them.
I rode Blake as he moved, and when he hit a certain spot, my eyes started to roll back. That was my tell, and he exploited it mercilessly, pounding into me over and over again, his breath hot on my skin as his lips traveled from my neck and down and back up.
He stretched my legs, pushing them wider. I flexed my hands, but Blake didn’t plan on letting them go any time soon.
I was spiraling out of control, the blood in my body sinking lower and lower, flowing straight to my groin. I was going to come in seconds.
“Blake,” I moaned.
He kissed me again, and I hung on and tried to keep up as he pinned me there against the wall. Then he stroked the flesh just above where my clit was, teasing me even as his tempo increased.
When Blake’s lips left mine, I groaned in protest. Then I felt his teeth graze my neck before he sucked on my flesh, hard, and pressed down simultaneously on my clit.
He wasn’t satisfied with just fucking me. He had to mark his territory.
I came hard, bucking against him, trying my best not to wake up entire entire wing of the hotel.
As I rode out my orgasm and Blake held me up, I noticed he wasn’t nearly finished. When he let go of my arms, I wrapped them around my neck, and he he
ld me to him and moved us over to the bed.
“I bet you taste like sugar,” he said huskily.
Collapsing onto the sheets, I tingled in pleasure and felt momentarily disappointed when his cock pulled out of me, only to draw in my breath when he crouched by my legs, pushed them apart again, and gave me a mischievous smile before running his tongue all the way up my slit and across my engorged nub. “I was right.”
My ass shot off the bed. Normally I was pretty sensitive after coming, but now I just wanted more. Fortunately, Blake was ready to serve.
Blake didn’t come back to my pussy immediately. He kissed his way up my thighs, stroking them with his fingers, just possessive enough to simulate raking them. He sucked on the junctions of my legs and found out where I was ticklish.
“Please…” I moaned.
“Please what?” Blake smirked at me.
“I need you to suck my pussy.”
Blake laughed and continued his exploration. Each touch was ratcheting up the pressure. I was already dripping wet, and I needed his mouth there almost as much as I needed his cock in me.
Then he nuzzled my mons, sinking lower, and the bridge of his nose parted the hood of flesh around my nub as he pressed in gently. Blake stuck out his tongue and tasted me for the second time.
“Yes,” I hissed. “Please, Blake…”
“Tell me what you want.” It was a command, not a question.
“I want you to fuck me with your tongue.” It sounded needy and weak, but I didn’t care.
He nuzzled my clit again, and this time his tongue stayed out. It was exquisite, like having him paint his desire on my body like I was his canvas. He dived in and out, and when I twitched and jerked in response to his ministrations, he put one hand on my belly and held me down. His other hand slid up one leg out of what seemed like nowhere, and he slipped two fingers inside me, rubbing at my g-spot. His lips closed over my aching nub, and he rolled it around and flicked it with the tip of his tongue, juggling it in different directions.
The heat washed over me again. One second I was burning up, the next I was shivering because of the muscles I wanted to flex, the direction my body wanted to move with each thrust of his hand. The orgasm came like a weight rolling down my stomach, then exploding outward through every nerve in my body, and someone was screaming Blake’s name. I didn’t recognize my own voice until Blake covered my mouth with his, silencing me.
I tasted myself on him, and I liked it.
He hitched one leg of mine over his shoulder and entered me again, his strokes alternating between languorous and demanding, his hips surging into me as his cock filled me to the hilt and I rode out the spasms. He played with my breasts, rolling the nipples between his fingers before sucking on them. His dark head of hair at my chest was strangely endearing and erotic in its own right, as if the taste of my flesh was some form of worship he hadn’t fully learned yet.
Blake sank deeply into me, and his thrusts became more erratic. I could feel him swell inside of me and knew he was close to coming.
“Jenna,” he groaned, and it was me who had made him lose control, and I knew it, and that knowledge was intoxicating.
He wasn’t wearing any protection. And because of my unreliable ovulation, I had never seen the need to be on the pill.
My body slid on the bed as he moved inside of me, and the way my breasts jiggled seemed to entrance him. Definitely a boobs man. Wait, was I supposed to tell him something?
It was really hard to stay focused on the tail end of two orgasms when I was over halfway to a third.
Eh, screw it. There was little to no chance of Blake knocking me up for one night of sex, and even if he did, that was what I wanted. He didn’t really give me a chance to comment either way, however, with his tongue teaching mine how to tango and his cock driving all coherent thoughts from my mind.
He pinched the skin just over my clit with his thumb and index fingers. I screamed into his mouth as I came, all sensation diving inward, then outward with lightning speed, my walls spasming around him. He pumped into me several more times, stiffening finally when he was deep inside me, and I felt the warm flood of his cum shooting into my body, even as my contractions drew him tightly against me. I clenched around him as he continued to come, riding out the waves as our hips came together and he emptied his sperm into my channel, until my pussy had milked him dry and he collapsed, rolling us onto our sides.
Blake kissed me fervently, cradling my head. I kissed him back just as ardently.
I reached behind me and pulled the light duvet over us. He sank into the pillows, pulling me flush against him.
Just before I drifted off, I heard him whisper into my neck.
“You’re mine now,” Blake said. “Mine.”
My eyes shot open. He was already asleep.
4
“Good morning.”
I peeked one eye open. There was a devilishly handsome man next to me in bed. He was also naked.
Then I remembered who the man was, and everything I had done with him. Unprotected.
Talk about asking for a complicated life.
“Morning,” I said. I covered my face with the duvet and looked again. Blake was smiling. He didn’t look ready to kill me or like he might unwillingly retrieve the contents of last night’s dinner from his stomach.
So far, so good.
I pulled the duvet away and smiled.
“Haven’t decided whether you’re ready to wake up next to me yet?” he joked, although I detected a note of concern underneath the bravado. He would never admit it, though. He was playing it cool, light-hearted.
Just in case.
“No.” I sat up, scooting closer. “I was ready years ago. Now, for the first time, I’ve woken up and found it wasn’t just a dream.”
By the passion in his kiss, it was the answer he wanted.
We ordered room service, though feeding each other the fresh fruit was as enjoyable as the meal itself. Mysteriously, as soon as I moved to take a shower, Blake was back at my side, distracting me. There were a lot of distractions — on the bed, over the arm of the sofa, on the table…
“Look,” I said, panting, “if we’re ever going to check out of this hotel, I need to shower. You can come in with me, but we need to come out clean.”
Blake’s lips ghosted along my nape as one arm snaked around my waist. “Define ‘clean.’”
I tilted my head to allow him more access to the side of my neck. “Soap and shampoo going on and coming off completely.”
“I think we can manage that.” Blake’s other hand slipped between my folds and stroked me softly, drawing out my desire.
We made good use of that hot water. The bathroom was far away from the hall. This was a good thing, I thought, as Blake entered me from behind and bent me over the half-seat, groping my breasts as he fucked me hard, my feet nearly giving out as he rammed into me in a bruising rhythm.
I let out a little gasp when he hit the perfect spot, and even in the noise of the shower, Blake knew and thrust into me exactly the same way until I was crying out his mane and he emptied his seed in me. Toweling dry before my legs gave out was going to be my major accomplishment for the day.
Blake strolled by me in all of his naked gloriousness, and he wasn’t having problems maintaining his balance, the jerk. How dare he have better hand-eye coordination than I did post-coitus?
I stumbled over to the nearest mirror. My hair was damp and plastered to my head. I had on no makeup or flattering clothing. I had just fucked my stepbrother. For the fourth — or fifth — I lost count -- time in less than a day. Yet I couldn’t remember a time when I had felt more beautiful.
It was wonderful to feel both clean and dirty.
* * * * *
We didn’t make it out of the hotel on Sunday at all. By the time we checked out and drove back on Monday morning, Lana and Dad were calling or texting every other hour, demanding to know where we were, despite Blake’s assurances to Lana days ago that we we
re using the weekend to work out our differences and his request that they not bother us until Monday. I refused to call anyone until the next day when we had physically left Sleepy Hollow and Tarrytown behind us. Maybe my subconscious thought it might jinx the happiness I had found there.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call, Dad. We had a lot to talk about.” Blake smiled and changed gears, navigating the morning southbound traffic as best he could.
“Honey, I’m happy you guys worked things out. That’s great. I can’t tell you what it means to us. I just wish you had told me.”
“Blake told Lana. She didn’t tell you?”
“Of course she did. I’m not going to just take Blake’s word about what you agreed to do. You haven’t agreed on much of anything until now.”
Secretly glad my father still held me in high esteem, I decided to just apologize. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I should have realized it was really out of character for me to go anywhere willingly with Blake.”
Blake knocked my thigh in mock exasperation, and I hit his shoulder. “But things will be different now.”
After the traffic jams we had to navigate, I started to understand why the ultra-rich wanted to skip the traffic entirely and just take helicopters everywhere. It was nearly eleven in the morning by the time we made it back to Manhattan.
“So what do we do now?” I said.
Blake and I were standing in the lobby of the Roosevelt. I was caught up in this strange haze of lust, love, and fear. I had this feeling like if I let Blake out of my sight, everything would fall apart, and I would be facing the consequences of our actions alone.
Blake said, “As long as you’re still game, we move forward.” He paused. “I have to fly back to California tomorrow morning and won’t be back until midday on Wednesday, right before the party starts. We could get married today and tell my grandparents after your family’s party is over, or we could let the lawyers handle the notification. That would save you from a lot of the fallout, although I’m not sure you want to have that initial conversation with your dad on the phone.”
My Stepbrother, the Billionaire, & the Ball: Forbidden Romance (The Step Contract, Book 2) Page 3