by Nicole Snow
She reaches for my hand and I let her pull it off her face. For a second, she holds my big hand in both of hers, and gives it a little kiss.
“I wish it weren't over. Do you know how hard it's going to be to let go? Maybe things could be different if our parents weren't married and so...so fucked up.”
I've never heard her drop an F-bomb in public before. I know she's upset. Still, I can't lead her on, even when every part of me knows just how right she is.
“But they are, babe. We can't pretend there's no understanding about what's going on here, with them and us. You want to give your old man a chance to sort out his shit? Then you can't let him find out his perfect daughter's sharing a bed with her own damned stepbrother.”
She nods like her head's made of cement. I can see the sadness in her eyes, melancholy over how screwed up our situation really is, the thousand and one things standing between us.
Fuck, us. The very idea makes me want to punch myself in the face for even thinking it. It's not like she's my girlfriend.
We're trained in the SEALs to find the flaws in our own thinking before they become fatal mistakes, and I catch mine now. I don't care how beautiful she looks, or how much I wish I could burn away the lonely regrets in her big brown eyes.
We've got one more night to make our memories. One more night of splendor, booze, and passion before it's back to reality. And the reality is, I don't do relationships.
Delia's one more fuck – an amazing, unforgettable, mind bending fuck – and nothing more. I know she'll be okay in the end.
Evie and Bruce will self-destruct sooner or later, and she'll help pick up the pieces. I hope there's a man waiting for her someday to help sweep away the fallout forever, but it won't be me.
It can't be. Her future's too bright to end up with a military man who's fucked more girls in the past year than he can even name.
Reality sucks, but reality rules. I know what I need to do.
Tonight, I'll make her happier than she's ever been in her whole fucking life. Then I'll be gone.
We're outside on the balcony, overlooking the city of lights. It's an otherworldly sight out here, but I can only stare at the lights in quick snatches, before turning back to what I really want to gaze on tonight.
Delia's curled up on my lap, her legs slung over me, her breath quickening as she inhales my scent. I let her bury her face in my shoulder as I fist her hair. My dick wants to rip straight through my trousers and take her right here, right now, but the mutinous bastard beating in my chest wants to savor this.
I let him win, just this once. We actually cuddle – a word that was never in my vocabulary – and it isn't half-bad. Too bad the sex is a thousand times hotter, and after about twenty minutes, I can't take this easy, tender shit.
“Babe, look at me.”
“What?” She's got tears in her eyes, reflecting the Vegas lights below us. I expect it, but it's still a punch in the guts.
“You can't be upset. We're siblings, Delia, brother and sister thanks to one serious mistake some numbskulls made. You know what has to happen tomorrow, and so do I. We don't need to obsess about that right now.”
“It still hurts. I don't want to lose you, but I have to, Chris. Why? Why does it have to be like this?” I wonder if she's lost her mind and she really doesn't understand. “We're not even related. It's not that crazy, this thing between us...or maybe it is.”
She twists her lips, deep in thought, before she sighs softly. “Whatever.”
She reaches for my neck and presses her hands into my skin. Hard.
Christ. I've seen women look at me with lust before, but this is something else. The brutal intensity in her face almost causes me to shoot my load. There's an overwhelming urge to rip her dress off and fuck her right here, out above the city, and I don't give a fuck who sees or hears us.
“You're right,” she hisses, a strange energy coming over her I can't resist. “Fuck me like I mean something to you tonight, Chris. Let's make this last time the best. Give me something to remember for the rest of my life.”
Shit. It's like she's possessed. A second later, so am I.
My hand reaches for her back and rips her zipper down. I give her just enough space to fumble with the dress, and she doesn't even protest, sliding briefly off my lap to stand up and let it fall to the floor.
I'm ripping off my vest, my trousers, my boxers, anything and everything I need to get naked and sink down inside her. By the time I'm done, she's standing next to the glass door, one arm folded across her breast.
No fucking way am I letting the shy girl come back. I grab her by the hand and pull her toward me, guiding us into the long deck chair, where I throw her down first.
“This isn't what I meant. Are you insane?” she asks, and I answer her by holding her down, pushing my face between her legs. “Jesus, Chris, we're outside and – “
The moan that slips out her mouth when I slide my tongue against her clit tells me all I need to know. She keeps shifting uncomfortably for a little while, like she wants to fight, but I lick her into submission.
I can't keep my hands, my mouth, my own goddamned mind off her. She doesn't know, but everything's coming down like an avalanche inside me as I fuck my tongue into her pussy.
I'm not supposed to feel this shit, much less say anything, and I won't. Not with words. I use my mouth the only way I know how instead, growling as I take her pleasure higher. Her clit comes deep between my teeth and I give it the perfect pinch, sweeping my licks across her bud faster.
Her nails drag through my hair, so hard I wonder if she's about to draw blood. I'll fucking let her.
The only thing that matters right now is how loud she's going to scream before we're done. I want the entire city to hear it, the whole fucking world to know our dirty secret, if only for tonight.
“Chris...Chris...Chris!” She says my name like a mantra, slow and hypnotic, a little faster and shriller each time.
She's close, and I send her over the edge. Delia bites the hell out of her mouth to keep herself from filling the bright Vegas night with our music. And that's not good enough for me.
The girl's struggling to breathe when her pussy finally relaxes. I pop up, checking to make sure the chair can support some seriously hard fucking, before I push between her legs.
I reach for my pants and pull out a condom, carefully bundled up with ten more for tonight. She puts her hand on mine when she hears the foil crinkle and whispers.
“No...I'm on the pill. I want to feel all of you, Chris. Everything. Just as long as you're clean.”
“You kidding? I sleep around but I'm not a damned idiot.” I study her, wondering if she's really serious, or if it's just the emotion and the orgasm making her crazy. “Last chance to take it back, babe. I want this so fucking bad, there's not a chance I'll be doing any pulling out once you spread your legs.”
“Do it.” It's a quiet, sensuous, dick grabbing whisper, a plea wrapped in desperation.
My hips go straight for hers, hard and focused as a submarine sliding through the waves.
My cock's inside her before she even opens her eyes. That does the trick.
She finally looks at me like she's reconciled herself to being taken like an animal tonight. We're doing shit I've never done with anybody else, fucking out in the open, and I'm going to give it to her like she's my stepsister – like I actually care.
We kiss forever. I lead her tongue in a tango that stops her breath, resisting the insane effect her heat has on me as long as I can, holding my bare cock deep inside her pussy.
“Fuck, you feel incredible.” Breaking the kiss, I lay my forehead on hers, and even that tiny patch of skin is hot and ready to come undone.
“Come on,” she gasps, wiggling her hips against mine. Her pussy slowly slides around my dick, teasing me, begging me to fuck her fast, hard, and bury my seed deep.
Wish. Fucking. Granted.
The chair creaks beneath us as I fist her hair, pumping my hi
ps, slamming into her a little harder each time we connect. She's so wound up it only takes a few strokes before she's biting her lip and coming all over again.
“Let it the fuck out,” I tell her. “It's the only way you'll feel sane next week. Let me know you want my come tonight, everything I'm gonna give you in spades.”
I speed up my thrusts, and she buckles. Her arms and legs pinch so tight it's like she's part of me. I don't know how the hell I stop myself from blowing inside her just then, but I do.
I feel the heartbeat pounding in her veins, the way her pussy convulses on my cock, listen to every frantic moan and scream leaving her lips, spilling into the open night. I fuck right through her climax, so hard she arches and comes for a small eternity.
We plow right through it. When she's finished, she's panting like a cat in heat, her mouth hanging open, pouring hot breath on me. I bring my mouth down on hers and pull her hair tight, launching my hips into her, faster and harder than I've ever fucked in my life.
I'm afraid I'm going to bruise her, but I can't stop. Not now. Not tonight.
Maybe not ever.
She pushes herself into me just as hard, all the worries and passions and future agonies hidden in our tempo. Her tits swing like soft round pendulums on her chest, and feeling her nipples graze my chest does me in.
“Fuck, Delia. I love this hot sweet cunt, love every inch of you, love the way you make me come. I fucking love you.”
I can't believe I said it. Neither can she, not with the imminent explosion ripping through my balls, about to set her off all over again.
My cock swells deep inside her and fire slashes through me. I'm locked in an inferno for the next few minutes, pumping seed inside her for what feels like forever; bucking, coming, and emptying myself inside her 'til she overflows.
I fuck so long and hard I can't even think. She's screaming and I'm roaring out my pleasure, drilling the molten come I've pumped into her pussy deeper, never wanting it to end.
It's only her kiss that brings me back to earth. We both know I fucked up with...whatever the hell that was spilling out of my mouth.
I fucking love you.
Christ, what the hell did I say? It was the heat, the moment, the fire screaming through my balls. It had to be.
We don't talk about it. I pull out of her and push my hand between her legs, feeling our combined slickness, and feeling proud of it.
I've never wanted to mark a woman so badly before. I've never wanted to keep doing it either. With her, it doesn't feel like I can ever take her enough times, fill her all the way, even when she's leaking sex everywhere.
I'm worried about her? How the fuck am I going to survive next week? How the hell can I ever let go?
I don't have an answer. I've never had a woman do this shit to me before, and it's bending my brain in a hundred directions, like a rollercoaster built through my brain.
This night, I can handle. I do the only thing I know how. I take her by the hand and lead her inside, where I get her on all fours, splayed out on the bed.
We can sleep on the flight home tomorrow. I'm not planning to shut my eyes, and I'm sure as shit not going limp. I'm hellbent on milking every last drop of pleasure out of tonight, and I'm going to fuck my girl 'til we're both too sore to move.
I drop her off at home the next day and return to base. Are we really here already, everything we had this past week dashed like a dream?
My orders are pretty damn insistent about ramping up training for the recruits tomorrow. Probably because the Korean DMZ is just a hair trigger away from blowing the fuck up, and we'll need manpower.
I can't stop thinking about Delia's sad, woeful eyes the last time she kisses me, just before stepping out of my truck. Don't have a damned clue when I'll ever set eyes on her again, or that huge, lonely mansion.
I need to keep my distance. Even if it turns my stomach to know I'll never feel her warm, wet heat wrapped around me again.
The next day, I watch the smoke contrails roaring overhead. My SEAL team hits the shore first, and it's a live chemical drill. The whole world turns stuffy, gray, and blurry behind my Nuclear-Biological-Chemical mask.
I'm yelling through the dummy rounds exploding, martialing recruits ashore, while the rest of the boys do their damnedest to give us a taste of what Dear Leader's got waiting for us if we have to wreck his pretty toys.
The drill runs for hours. We plant our explosive charges on the dummy rocket sites, and watch from a high hill as the shit billows up, sending thick black smoke into the air. The choppers come roaring in when it's over, and we pile into them like ants after honey, lifting off into the smoky sky.
There's a strange thud in my chest, a sickly feeling that has nothing to do with the imminent danger we're about to face from the latest geo-political inferno.
Why does it feel like everything inside me goes up in the blaze? I can't get Delia out of my head. Not even when ninety percent of my focus is on the drill, the mission, everything I've been trained to do to keep the red, white, and blue flying free.
It's hellish, but we get through it with flying colors. We always do.
By the end of it, Commander Jones comes up behind me, slaps me on the back. He's an older, bigger man with a face that always turns beet red from barking orders and bulldozing his way through the harshest ground.
“Haven't seen you move like that since Kirkuk, Cleveland. Keep it up, and we won't have a repeat.”
“It's going to be completely different over there than Kirkuk if we're called up,” I tell him. “The Norks are better equipped than the Iranians any day. We're going to need more practice for all this fresh blood.”
He nods and smiles. “What? You think I don't already have it on the books? Get some sleep tonight, Cleveland, we're going to be drilling hard over the next week until everything's picture-fucking-perfect.”
“You think it's really gonna happen?” I cock my head and feel my eyes narrow.
The commander frowns and lets out a grunt. I already know what he's going to say in words, but his face tells me everything I need to know.
“That's up to the boys in DC to decide. If they do, we'll be ready to give 'em hell. Our worries begin and end right there.”
Yeah, hell, I think. He's not exaggerating.
It'll be the most dangerous mission I've ever been on once the order lands. It's easy to draw parallels with fire and eternal torment when you're talking about war.
But for me, I can't imagine anything worse than eternal silence, torn away forever from the forbidden chick I can't pry out of my skull.
Fuck. I need to see her again. I need to feel Delia wrapped around me.
Her arms, her lips, her soft, wet cunt...
We fucked over our week in Vegas together more than I ever gave it to any woman, and it's still not enough. Our last night together, feeling her draw every drop of come from my balls, is burned into my head for life.
My head's spinning at about a thousand miles per hour, and it's not just the week long drills and imminent war threat driving me loco. It's her.
I don't break my promises, dammit. But Delia's underneath my skin, alive and perfect, singing to me like a Siren. I can still feel her pheromones caressing every fucking pore, igniting some primal chemistry in my blood.
I can't forget her. Can't ignore her. Can't.
We made a vow to get this shit out of our systems and then forget it as soon as we returned from Vegas.
It's the first vow I've ever hated, and I know what I need to do. I'm going to march in and shatter the miserable piece of shit into a thousand pieces.
9
Unforgettable (Delia)
It's been a day since we stepped off the plane together, and he dropped me at home. My heart sank when his lips pulled away from mine. He told me he wouldn't be coming back.
Bracing myself with a hundred inner pep talks on the plane didn't do a damned thing. It hurts.
I spend the whole day cooped up in my room, straining to
force out something on my laptop. The words just won't come. Not when Chris flashes in my mind every time I type the word SEAL.
Hell, it's not just him. It's everything that's happened.
The way he led me through town like a brash, possessive playboy, confident as ever. The men he killed. All the times we fucked in our room, discovering layers of ecstasy I didn't even know existed, coming unraveled on his cock again and again as he spent himself inside me our final night.
God. There's a fiery pulse between my thighs every time I think about it.
On the flight back home, curled up against him, I seriously believed we might be able to put it all behind us. Maybe we'd actually gotten it out of our system with all the wild, screaming, sheet ripping sex we'd had.
But by the second day, I'm a fucking mess. I close the laptop, ignoring the latest passive-aggressive warnings from Professor Thosser about dragging my feet. I need to get out of the house, so I go for a run.
Dad and Evie are mysteriously absent. When I get home later, I see the screwed up bitch in the hall, berating our cleaner, Maribell, for something she probably didn't do.
Evie looks over the poor woman's shoulder and gives me the evil eye. I put on my best bitch face and glare back, before heading to my room.
This whole week has been too much. Like something out of a twisted movie.
I don't know how I'm supposed to deal with almost being kidnapped, watching the only man I've ever fucked murder two demons in cold blood. And that's not even half of it.
My hero, my lover, my ultimate obsession, is my own fucking stepbrother. Unless something insane happens, he always will be. And even if he wasn't, I don't think he's the type who settles down.
It was just sex, Delia, I tell myself, hoping if I say it enough times, I'll really start to believe it. But every time that vow we made courses through my mind, it's the feeblest crap I've ever heard.