Dear Stepbrother, I Want You

by Madison Faye

  Which again, I totally understood.

  And part of that was me having my own room here at the hotel, obviously.

  As I closed the door behind me and leaned back against it, I sighed contentedly in the silence. Quietly, I padded across the darkness of my quarters and stepped out through the double French doors onto the small glassed-in terrace that sat off my room.

  Good God, Paris was beautiful.

  The glass muffled the sounds of the city, but I could still hear music playing from somewhere close. I kept the lights off on the warm, cozy little terrace as I gazed out at the city. Reaching back, I pulled the elastic out of my hair, letting my blonde tangles cascade around my face and fall down my back, as I breathed in deeply.

  I could definitely get used to this.

  I stretched, letting the tension of the day leave my muscles as I exhaled, free of responsibility for the evening, and ready for some me-time. I turned towards the chaise lounge sitting off to one side of the small terrace, illuminated only by the moonlight, and wrinkled my brow. There was a small bottle and a note on the low table by the lounger.

  “Ms. Wilder— in appreciation for the excellent work so far and for being a tremendous help, a token of my thanks. The children are asleep, please drink and enjoy, you’ve earned it.”

  I grinned and looked down at the very old bottle of Burgundy on the table. It looked...expensive.

  I'd obviously known I could legally drink in Europe without the fake ID I had back home, but I’d pretty much accepted that I certainly wouldn’t while on this trip, seeing as I was caring for two small children. I grinned. Just the same though, I was off duty now, and boss’s orders were boss’s orders!

  Kicking my shoes off, I sat on the chaise lounge with a sigh. Colin had left an opener for me as well, which I used to slowly pull the ancient-looking cork out of the bottle, pouring a small amount into the glass.

  I groaned as I let myself lean back in the chair, stretching fully as I raised my glass in toast to the Paris moon, to my new adventure, and — with a giggle to myself — to Colin, for providing me with wine. I took a deep sip and sighed contentedly as the smile stretched wide across my face.

  As I relaxed, I could feel the wine mixing with jet-lag, the intoxicating feeling going right to my head. It felt wonderful after a long flight and a long day. Sighing, I sipped again, and moved my eyes across the skyline, taking in the Paris night as I moved my eyes across the city rooftops until I got to the building across from ours, and halted suddenly with a gasp.

  There, illuminated by the moon on a balcony mirroring my own, was the unmistakable movement of two people fucking.

  They were mostly clothed — it was, after all, winter — but nothing they wore was doing much of a job at covering them. The man had her bent over at the waist, her skirt around her hips and her hands on the balcony railing as he rapidly pumped in and out of her. From the look on her face, it was safe to say he was hitting the right spots. Her coat was open, and her shirt was pulled up, one of his hands squeezing one of her exposed breasts as she moaned.

  I blushed furiously, and my first thought was to turn back inside. The uptight American in me was suddenly embarrassed and ashamed to be voyeuristically intruding on their lovemaking. But then, something stopped me, and I paused.

  Call it curiosity. Or maybe it was the wine, but I remained seated and utterly mesmerized by their gyrating movements. My eyes were glued the woman as she bucked against her man while he fucked her from behind. Eyes wide, feeling bold and playfully naughty, I sipped my wine, feeling the warmth of the drink and the heat of the summer night lingering on my skin, making me flushed and giddy.

  I couldn’t believe they were outside, even as mild as it was out. And for a second, the wicked thought teased into my head that the only thing that could make this more exciting would be hearing them.

  I paused, the dirty thought flitting into my had as I eyed the small little sliding window to the side of the terrace.

  Yes.

  I moved slowly in the shadows of my own dark watching spot, moving to the small window and cracking it open. I shivered slightly at the gust of chilly wind that teased inside, but I quickly forgot about that as the sounds of their lovemaking drifted into the room.

  And God was it hot. I sat back in my chair again and watched as he pulled her up against him, turning her head to hungrily attack her mouth with his own. I could hear her moaning, muttering something I couldn’t quite catch in French as he murmured into her mouth, and she moaned again as he renewed his thrusts.

  I groaned a little to myself as I tightened my thighs together beneath my skirt, flexing my legs and feeling the heady, risqué waves of heat radiating from between them. My breasts rose and fell quickly as I breathed, reveling in the wicked and lewd thoughts dancing through my mind as I watched the couple across the way.

  They moved back to a metal deck chair. The woman stood astride her lover now, and bent slowly at the knees to bring her pussy down to his cock, moaning and crying out as she slid down the length of him. Heat bloomed beneath my panties, and I moved my thighs together more obviously now, feeling the moisture drip from my pussy as I rocked my legs together.

  Breathing heavier now, I let one hand trail down my stomach to the edge of my skirt, teasing my thigh as I moaned quietly at the squeezing of my core.

  The woman was sliding quickly up and down over her lover’s lap now, her breasts swaying gently as she fucked herself with his cock. Their cries entwined into a softly erotic chorus drifting across the open air between our buildings. Biting at my lower lip, I let my hand wander up my thigh until my fingertips grazed across the edge of my panties at the top of my thigh. As the woman across the way sank once more onto the thick cock beneath her, I felt my pulse race, and I moved my hand across the thin material covering my slit. Groaning, I timidly traced a finger over the cleft in the fabric, pushing it deeper between my lips as my breath caught in my mouth.

  I felt so dirty, so naughty, as I watched the rhythmic lovemaking of the couple. My finger stroked up and down the soaked fabric of my panties, my pussy dripping my desire as I let the sounds of their pleasure drift over me.

  A mischievous thought entered my mind, and I quickly looked carefully around, biting my lip and blushing at even the thought of it. Feeling unbelievably naughty, I reached under my skirt and slowly peeled my panties down my legs, kicking them off with a wicked grin.

  It felt so free and so damn sexy to feel the soft warm air of the glassed-in atrium tickle its way under my skirt and up my legs to tease my now-exposed and aroused pussy. Languidly, I stroked my fingertip back over my bare lips, sighing in satisfaction as I dragged my fingers up and around the hard little nub of my clit. Feeling my own hot and sticky arousal, a gentle moan escaped my lips.

  Reaching over, I picked up my glass and took a sip, reveling in how damn good it was and how insanely expensive it was, which only added to the head-swimming experience. Drinking wine on a winter night under the moon on a Paris rooftop, teasing my pussy while I watched a couple make love. I tilted my head back and sighed heavily; oh, I could certainly get used to this.

  And suddenly, there was a noise.

  Holy shit, had I just heard a knock? I leaned over in the chaise towards the French doors to my room.

  Oh fuck, there it was again. Definitely a knock on my door.

  Scrambling, my heart racing, I jumped out of the chair, leaving the wine on the table and danced towards the door. It had to be one of the kids, awake suddenly and looking for me. Flustered, mind whirling at the sudden shift in mindset, I smoothed my skirt down, took a deep breath, and flung the door open.

  Only to come face-to-face with Colin.

  12

  Isabella

  “I hope I didn’t disturb?” He raised an eyebrow to my flushed face, tousled hair, and — I was sure — bright-red wine lips. I frowned in embarrassment and looked at the ground.

  “I— No, sorry,” I stammered. “Sir,” I added. “Sorry, I
thought the children were asleep.”

  “Oh, they are, not to worry Ms. Wilder,” he cut me off with a small smile, and I looked up at him, sheepishly.

  He was dressed much more informally than I’d seen him before, which was really just to say he’d lost his jacket and tie, coming to my door in immaculately pressed slacks and a crisp white dress shirt, open at the neck.

  “I merely came to see how you were doing, and to see if you’d found my gift.” His eyes glinted at me.

  “I did, sir, thank you.” I smiled at him, trying to think of everything and anything but the fact that I wasn't wearing any underwear. Briefly, I wondered if he could smell my arousal, and I blushed furiously at the thought as I swallowed thickly.

  “Bella, we just flew six-thousand miles together in a small plane with two children on sugar highs. I think we can drop to first names when you aren’t on duty, what do you think?”

  I had to grin.

  “I think that’ll work just fine, Colin.” Again, I felt so secretly naughty saying his name out loud. “Oh, and thank you for the wine,” I said, smiling shyly at him, “It’s— I mean, I’m no expert, but it’s amazing.”

  He smiled warmly at me, his eyes drawing me in as we stood in the dim light of the doorway. Without even thinking, I blurted it out: “Would you like to come in and have some?”

  Colin's eyes flashed to mine, holding my gaze in a steely, dark look. I felt a stirring in my core, my blood pumping a little faster in my ears.

  “Yes,” he said, his voice like rich chocolate “I believe I would.”

  Grinning like a dope, I stepped into the room to let him in.

  “Wine sounds perfect right now actually. I couldn’t fall asleep in my room. The view of Paris was... distracting.”

  I grinned and bit my lip as I turned towards the patio door, thinking about what he’d interrupted.

  Oh, sir, if only you’d had a view out THIS window.

  I turned to look at him as I stood by the French door, his face illuminated in the dark of the room by moonlight streaming in. His eyes were ablaze as he looked at me, unblinking, and I felt the shiver at my spine again.

  “Wine’s outside, come on out, Colin.” I smiled at him and stepped outside.

  Oh, shit.

  Two things that hadn't occurred to me very suddenly did as I stepped outside. For one, my black thong panties were still lying very obviously on the ground by the chaise lounge looking explicitly pornographic, and two, the couple across the street was still going at it, loudly, through the cracked side window.

  My brain spun. Panties on ground, open wine, voyeuristic show across the street? It certainly wasn't going to take a detective to figure out what had been going on out here. Thinking quickly, my pulse racing, I dashed to the chaise and kicked my panties underneath it, hoping at least that he wouldn’t see them. I heard him step out onto the atrium, and winced to myself as I heard him stop suddenly at the unavoidable scene across the way.

  “Ah, I see your room has the same view as mine,” he said, and I could hear him grinning.

  I flushed and played with my fingers, blushing too furiously to turn towards him.

  “Yeah, they’re…certainly enjoying themselves.”

  Colin chuckled and I heard him move.

  “May I?”

  I turned to see Colin holding my glass of wine up to his lips. My breath came heavy as I stammered. “Please, yes of course.”

  Smiling slightly, he took a sip, his eyes moving from me to the balcony across from us, where the girl had her head thrown back in ecstasy as she lay on her back now, sinuously arching her torso as her lover plowed into her with his cock.

  “Vocal thing, isn’t she?” His eyes smirked, seeing my embarrassment. I smiled awkwardly and looked at my feet.

  “I don’t mean to embarrass you, Bella.”

  I looked up, flushed, to see him regarding me coolly, his eyes lingering on my own.

  I swallowed and straightened up. Why should I be embarrassed? It wasn’t me having wild and wanton sex on my balcony, and he hadn’t caught me doing anything. Deciding I was going to be grown up about this, I let my shoulders relax as I smiled at him; the picture of ease and casualness.

  “Not at all, Colin. They’ve, uh, upped the volume a little.”

  He winked at me, seeing that he was free to discuss it.

  “And quite acrobatic, I must say,” he added with a nod of his head towards them. I turned and gasped. The girl was back on top now, facing away from her partner as she gripped his thighs and bounced her tight body up and down on his cock.

  “A bit chilly outside for my liking, but, God bless heated atriums,” he finished with a raise of his glass.

  I felt mesmerized as I unabashedly stared at them, a wave of my earlier naughtiness draping over me in a warm haze. I felt my pulse racing again as I let my body respond to the scene playing out in front of me with the deliciously dirty knowledge that Colin was standing right behind me, watching me watch. A wickedly naughty tingle ran up my thigh, the warm air from the heating vents by the floor fluttering at the hem of my skirt, tingling over the bare and exposed skin underneath.

  Across the street, the man was now powerfully gripping at the hips of his partner as he plowed up against her. His head was thrown back in a moan as he fucked her, and both of their cries mixed to drift tantalizingly across the abyss to my little balcony.

  I honestly couldn't look away, despite the company. I was transfixed by it. Eyes wide and breath heavy, I rested my elbows on the railing of the atrium, staring at them in their love-making. I heard Colin murmur something behind me, but I stood motionless, almost trance-like, my eyes taking in the scene of lust in front of me as I felt the warm tingle and wetness seeping from my needy pussy.

  I gasped as I suddenly felt him behind me, his body hard and flush against the suppleness of my own, and I shivered at the surprise contact.

  “Colin?” I breathed out, heady with the smell of his aftershave and the sudden and noticeable feel of the bulge in his pants as it pressed insistently against the thin fabric of my skirt.

  One of his hands gripped my arm, as the other dropped to rest on my hip. I froze, my breath hitched in the gasp caught in my throat.

  “Ms. Wilder,” his voice, raspy and honeyed, whispered right against my ear, making my whole core melt, and I felt the heat blooming out from between my legs.

  “You’ve been…” He trailed off, letting the breath of his whispered words tease the edges of my ear and neck. I closed my eyes, involuntarily leaning back into him; wanting him, and feeling so deliciously naughty for even thinking the thought.

  “Yes?” I barely whispered out.

  “…Bad,” he punctuated the word harshly into my ear as he tightened his hold on my body, pulling me gently back into him as I felt myself melt.

  I shuddered at his words, reeling in the thrill of his intentions and the heat of his touch.

  “I’m...I’m not sure what you mean, Col—”

  “Sir, Ms. Wilder.” His lips brushed my ear as he growled out the words, and I shuddered against him.

  “You may call me Sir.”

  I swallowed hard, my head reeling.

  “Yes, sir,” I choked out, my words hitching in my throat with lust and desire.

  “And I believe you know exactly what I mean,” he whispered darkly into my ear.

  “You’ve been a bad, naughty little girl.”

  My breath caught as my heart pounded in my chest, my mind scattering.

  “Good girls...” he said, and I groaned inside at his use of the word, feeling so, so naughty. His hand on my hip slowly moved around to my front, tracing its way across my pelvis, and I felt my thighs quiver as my pussy tingled.

  “Good girls should always be wearing panties,” he hissed the last word in my ear as the hand on my arm dropped, going to his pocket, and then suddenly, in a rushing thrill of shame and utter embarrassment, he was holding my panties up in front of us.

  Oh fuck.


  He let them dangle, accusatorially, from his finger before dropping them at my feet.

  “Such a naughty girl, Ms. Wilder,” he growled, making my knees weak. Behind me I felt him grind his bulge against me, and my head spun at the rush of pleasure coursing through me.

  “And naughty girls get punished.” His voice was commanding and in one deft motion, he slid his hand down the front of my skirt to the hem. I gasped loudly as he slipped it under the garment and firmly cupped my bare pussy with his large hand.

  I melted against him as he growled his satisfaction in my ear, the bulge in his trousers threatening to burst as he slowly ground it against my ass. I tensed and moaned softly at the touch of his hand on the hot, slick lips of my pussy.

  “Exactly what I suspected. Wearing this slutty little skirt with no panties to cover this hot little pussy.”

  I closed my eyes and bit my lip, moaning deeply as his finger traced over the lips of my pussy.

  “Do you know what happens to naughty little sluts who don’t wear panties?”

  I moaned at his touch, quivering at his words.

  “I asked you a question, Ms. Wilder,” he growled into my ear, bringing a moan to my lips.

  “N-n-no sir,” I mumbled weakly, as his fingers continued to slide up and down over my slit.

  His mouth was right at my ear as he pushed me hard against the railing of the atrium. With no warning, he took the lobe of my ear between his lips and nipped it gently with his teeth. I cried out softly.

  “They get punished, Ms. Wilder.”

  My body shuddered at his words, my eyes squeezed shut, and my juices dripping down the lips of my pussy as his fingers deftly slid between them, finding my heat and my dewy wetness within. I moaned out loud and rolled my hips, feeling his prying fingers against my front and his hardness pressing from behind.

  Colin's other hand slid up my front and gripped tightly at the front of my blouse. With a growl, he ripped, the buttons of my shirt scattering as he pulled the garment from my chest. I gasped in shock, my body lusting for him all the more.