by Nikki Wild
“Take me, Lex,” I murmured. “Take me now.”
That’s all the guidance he needed.
I felt his cock thrust deep into my soaked, ready pussy, and I bit down to keep from howling with pleasure. He was like someone possessed – powerfully dominating my hips, one hand clasped around my waist, the fingers biting into the skin as the other clasped down onto my shoulder the same way.
With every intention to meet the force of his need, I tried to rock my hips against his. Honestly, though… he was so incredibly fierce, controlling such a fast tempo, that I could barely keep up.
Instead, I allowed him to dominate me, continuously crashing against my hips with jaw-dropping intensity.
“Goddammit, Lex, that’s so…”
“Am I hurting you?” He asked, pausing in mid-stroke. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
The tenderness made my heart sing just a little, but I instead flashed him another sexy little look. “No, not at all… it feels so good, beneath your touch…”
“Good,” he murmured hungrily, his eyes closing as he leaned his face back again. He gave me another powerful thrust, then continued: “That’s what I like to hear.”
He slipped back into powerfully fucking me, and I groaned with unending fulfillment.
“Oh Lex, you’re so hot when you fuck me like that… I love feeling your hot, throbbing cock inside my wet pussy…”
He growled with contentment, picking up the speed just a touch. Obviously, he really did like what he was hearing…
“Please come for me, Lex. Come inside me. You know how badly I want it…”
His rippling arms tightened, and his fingers pressed ever harder into my skin. I almost yelped with pain, but soothed it to an excited, passionate squeal. The last thing I wanted to do was make him stop, and knowing how carefully he monitored my pleasure, willing to stop fucking me on a dime…
“Please give it all to me, Lex… every last drop inside you. I need it… I crave it…”
That seemed to do the trick.
His movements grew erratic, uncontrollable. Lex lost his grip on himself, rocking his hips against mine over and over, his heavy balls slapping against my skin as he visibly prepared for his own, stunning climax…
But his cock was pressing against my center so perfectly, and I loved being fucked in this position…
It was inevitable that I was about to come, myself. I steeled myself, shifting my weight against the headboard as I clenched up. Finally, the building tension shoved me off the precipice, leaving my gasping body moaning with complete orgasmic pleasure as I came hard against his hips, over and over.
As I burst through the multiple climaxes, Lex finally seized up, his limbs locking as he buried his rock-hard erection as hard into my slickened chasm as it would go. He let loose a roar, and I felt rope after rope of his thick, hot seed spurt into my body, surging deep inside.
After we came together, we collapsed down to the bedding and sheets, fulfilled and brought to the brink of satisfaction.
I nestled up against him as he rolled onto his back, completely spent from the consummation of our love. I felt his heart beating powerfully beneath his ribcage as my head slipped into place, and his arm wrapped around me.
“You mean the world to me,” I heard him whisper as the throes of sleep came for me. All I could do was nod, quietly murmuring my agreement.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you too, Riley.”
I felt safe.
I felt secure.
And I felt like the world was truly ours.
Epilogue
Riley
Six Months Later
As far as proposals go, dragging Gloria Van Lark into court was a pretty damned good way to get me to agree.
She had been true to her word, going to extreme lengths to sabotage my career. Gallery after gallery pulled my work. Lex kept me levelheaded through all of this. We were just gathering the evidence we needed.
The case was still tied up in court, but the world-renowned curator had lost a tremendous amount of influence in the art community, and her reputation was irreversibly tarnished as the truth of her escapades came out. Even if her lawyers were able to wheedle her out of any of the charges against her, despite her admissions, Gloria Van Lark would never enjoy even half the power she’d previously wielded.
And things were turning around quickly for my work… As it just so turned out… the Spinnoc museum was owned by an art collective known as the Reinholdt Group. The founder, Charles Reinholdt, had dedicated his life and his great fortune to preserving priceless art across the world for many decades. With Gloria out of the way, the Reinholdt Group reached out to me directly.
My work made it to the Spinnoc after all…
Lex helped pull a few strings and landed me a functional visa so we’d have time to set up a proper wedding. It beat getting hitched in Vegas…
My friends had taken my move overseas better than I could have expected… Connor and Reiko started dating not long after I left, and the two of them still come visit every once in a while.
They make a cute couple. Independent, working hard on their businesses together…
Connor even has a second location in the works.
On the day that Gloria Van Lark was marched into court, Lex proposed to me in front of the courthouse with one of the most beautiful rings I had ever seen. I couldn’t possibly say no to such a stunning declaration, and I agreed on the spot – under the condition that we take the engagement slow, and truly come to learn each other.
He didn’t see a problem with that… But he seemed to want to do most of his learning in the bedroom.
I didn’t see a problem with that either…
And Lex?
Lex Lambert is still the same smug, confident, world-class football player that he was before. He still leads the English National team, although the team manager saw to it that a certain backstabbing rival was dishonorably removed from the team.
Maybe his face wasn’t on a cereal box, but even that was only a matter of time. The sponsorship would be coming up again soon, and this time, Lex was the odds-on favorite.
Not that he cares. There are two things Lex is 100% invested in, me, and football. Well, I should say us, because after we talked it over… he decided to reverse the vasectomy.
We’re going to try for a baby.
I’m out of my mind happy, and Lex is completely confident that this is going to be the year that England finally earns back its glory and retakes the World Cup…
And when he does…
I’ll be in the stands, cheering him on, with my brand-new wedding ring glistening in the sun. I might even have our beautiful baby in my womb, ready to meet the world. I’ll watch him lead his team towards victory as a beloved national icon and the most capable, loving man I’ve ever met.
I like the sound of that.
Maybe I’ll paint that, too.
The End, but I’m STILL not done with you yet! Turn the page for another bonus novel, Stepbrother Fixation!
-Nikki Wild xoxoxo
My entire catalog is FREE TO READ for anyone with a Kindle Unlimited subscription! You can check out all of my sexy bad boy novels by clicking RIGHT HERE!
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Novels by Nikki Wild
Bad Boy Fighters:
KNOCKOUT (A Bad Boy MMA Romance)
* * *
Bad Boy Bikers:
ROUGHNECK (A Dark Biker Romance)
Sa
ving Landon (A Bad Boy Biker Romance)
Saved by the Bad Boy (A Devil’s Dragons Biker Romance)
Pride and Pregnancy (A Devil’s Dragons Motorcycle Club Romance)
Rough Rider (Outlaw Kings Motorcycle Club)
* * *
British Bad Boys:
Royal Prick (A Bad Boy British Romance)
Arrogant Brit (A Bad Boy British Sports Romance)
Rock Hard (A Bad Boy British Rockstar Romance)
Played (A Bad Boy British Romance)
* * *
Bad Boy Rockstars:
Illicit Behavior (A Bad Boy Rockstar Romance)
Rock Hard (A Bad Boy British Rockstar Romance)
* * *
Bad Boy Stepbrothers:
Lust (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)
Richard (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance)
* * *
Bad Boy Billionaires:
Pretend Married (A Billionaire Romance with a Twist)
Protect And Serve (A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance)
Stepbrother Fixation
Fixation
STEPBROTHER FIXATION
A BAD BOY STEPBROTHER ROMANCE
* * *
By Nikki Wild and Kat Jackson
Copyright 2016
All Rights Reserved
My entire catalog is FREE TO READ for anyone with a Kindle Unlimited subscription! You can check out all of my sexy bad boy novels by clicking RIGHT HERE!
* * *
Do you want new release notification, a chance to be an ARC reader, special limited time discounts, and FREE EXCLUSIVE Nikki Wild content? Click here to sign up for my WILD mailing list today! Signup is easy and I will NEVER send you spam or share your e-mail address with anyone.
1
* * *
“I can’t do this,” I told her. “I can’t pretend like last night never happened. I need you, Madison, and not in the way that a brother needs his stepsister.”
I began lifting up the hem, revealing the creamy white tops of her thighs inch by inch until finally, I caught a glimpse of her underwear. I pulled my cock out and nestled it against her crotch. I felt my balls seize and I snarled in her ear. “I could blow my load right here, Maddy. I could soak these panties before dinner, and your mother and my father wouldn’t know a thing. You’d spend the whole night with my cum staining your panties... That’s what you do to me. You make me want to do the nastiest fucking things to you.”
Maddy shivered and looked up at me with hooded eyes. “Preston… Jesus, we can’t. What we did last night was wrong. I wanted it… We wanted it… But you know it can’t happen again.”
I pulled her panties open, letting the tip of my dick violate the space between them and her sweet, soaking wet lips. I thrust, overwhelmed by the sensation of being so near to her, of feeling my bulging head slip around in her honeyed nectar. “It has to,” I whispered. “Every time I look at you, all I want to do is get inside you again.”
I was so close. But Madison gently, yet firmly took me by the wrist. I could see lust in her eyes, but there was something else too. Maybe it was self-restraint…
“We can’t,” she repeated, and this time there was no “maybe” in her tone. I withdrew and she let her fingers brush mine. “I’m sorry, Preston, but think of what could happen if we got caught…”
I nodded. As frustrated as I was, she made sense. But dammit, I didn’t want her to make sense! All I wanted was to throw caution to the wind and bury myself in my darling little stepsister.
She fixed her skirt and helped tuck my cock back inside my pants, her hand lingering on its straining girth longer than she needed to.
“Let’s hope there’s wine tonight,” I said as her fingertips left me, her graceful body moving around the car and sliding into the passenger seat.
“I think I’m going to need it,” Maddy replied, trying to avoid my gaze as I sat down beside her. We didn’t say another word as her hand found its way to my thigh, giving me a reassuring squeeze.
A drink was definitely going to be required. Maybe a little buzz would help me forget, but as we drove, all I could do was try to ignore the heat radiating from her fingertips. My mind drifted, traveling back to the day she ran into me on the street with those big beautiful tears in her eyes… So perfect… So broken…
2
* * *
One month earlier…
“Madison, lunch was over two minutes ago.”
I looked up from microwavable meal. It was a small plastic bowl of steamed rice and veggies, but the shitty microwave in the break room had only heated things up on one side, leaving me with broccoli stalks with freezer burn still clinging to them.
My gaze fixed on Miguel Herrera, the general manager of the small rental company I worked for. He reminded me of a man who had once done greater things, but had since been exiled to the dredges of monotony that corporate life entailed. Maybe he’d been military, or maybe he’d once been a little higher up the food chain where commands weren’t questioned and his iron fist ruled all. Either way, it was painfully clear that a man like Miguel was never meant for a company like ExecuSpace.
ExecuSpace itself was an interesting animal. Instead of renting tangible things like cars, homes, or office buildings, they rented out virtual office space. I sat behind a desk answering a multi-line phone system where each line represented a different suite supposedly housed in the six-story building I worked in. A prompt would pop up on my computer with each call, reminding me to answer for “Lindsey’s Lawn Service” or “Jack Vogler, Esquire.” Then I’d place the caller on hold and transfer them to the client’s voice mailbox, their cell phone, or even their home phone where they really worked.
Basically, ExecuSpace rented nothing at all—nothing but the illusion that their clients were more important than they really were. It was brilliantly deceptive, and it worked like a charm.
That meant the phones were busy. That meant that sometimes I didn’t get to take a lunch break, and when I did, running sixty seconds past the mark would earn me a visit from Miguel’s dark, scowling face.
“You left your desk at half past noon, didn’t you?” he asked, raising one of his charcoal eyebrows. I shuffled the food in her bowl and nodded, taking another bite.
“I did, but I got stopped in the hall by Mr. Franklin, who wanted me to run back to my desk and put a parcel into the outgoing mail. Then when I got back there, Lacy got a phone call from her ex and ran outside to take it, so I had to wait for her to get back before I could leave again. After that, Ms. Harris asked for a physical list of the calls she’d received today, even though they’re all logged on her voicemail, and ten minutes later I finally got to heat up my lunch and sit down here.
“So,” I continued, glancing up at the clock over my shoulder, “I’m not two minutes late. I’m actually just sitting down to eat, so I’ve got about twenty-five minutes left.”
Normally I wouldn’t have spoken to Miguel—or anyone at ExecuSpace—that way. That was because I desperately needed this job, or I’d be completely screwed in the way of keeping a roof over my head. That meant putting up with grueling twelve- to fourteen-hour shifts, even if I had to clock out at five p.m. like everybody else, enduring the abuse of my colleagues and the incompetence of my supposed assistant, and above all else, not stepping away from my desk unless I needed to use the restroom or had some other emergency.
But today was different. Today, after four long, arduous years without so much as a pay bump or a pat on the back, I was not in the mood.
I had bills to pay, and they were mounting quickly. I’d been hired in at a measly ten dollars an hour and that hadn’t changed, even though my responsibilities had. I was no longer the receptionist answering the phones, opening mail, and sending off a few e-mails every day—not that my job had ever only entailed that, despite what they’d told me during my interview. I was the personal assistant to pretty much everyone on the floor, as well as the office manager for when nobody else wanted to deal wit
h the bullshit that sauntered up to the front desk every day. I could—and had—run the entire operation by myself on many occasions. So why was I still being treated and paid like Lacy, the girl with no education, no computer skills, no ambition, and no desire to be here?
Lacy also happened to be my “assistant,” but she was an awful lot like my burden. She rarely lifted a finger to answer a call before I got to it and yet she still had her job and half the office tripping over themselves to take care of things for her. That usually involved passing her work off to me while she skipped out on some obscure “errand” or spent an hour in Miguel’s office with the door shut. She was young and pretty and she knew it, and I supposed that was what got a woman ahead in this place more than anything else.
Miguel appraised me, putting his hands on his waist in a way that spread apart his blazer to reveal his paunchy belly. I made sure to tightly cinch my legs together under the table, though the violet pencil skirt I was wearing hugged my thighs enough that I was sure he could use his imagination as to what was between them. I didn’t want him to do that, of course, but there was no stopping Miguel Herrera when he decided he wanted something.
When his gaze finally dragged back up to meet mine, I realized what he wanted was for me to toss away my lunch and go back to my desk. I held his stare, trying not to let my mouth twitch or my knee shake, trying not even to blink. I didn’t want to make any move that might be perceived as a sign of weakness, because today, after a shitty annual review and yet another thirteen-hour shift the day before, I was taking my goddamn lunch break.