Raging Hard: A Stepbrother SEAL Romance (With bonus novel Based!)

by Hamel, B. B.

  “Fuck, I need you,” I said, sitting up. “Get up here.”

  He grinned and slid out of me. I moved back, making room as he climbed onto the table, lying out.

  He looked incredible. His naked body, covered in tattoos, was cut and ripped, perfectly toned and hard. His big cock stood rock hard straight in the air. I got onto my knees and straddled him.

  And hit my head on the low-hanging light.

  “Shit,” I said.

  He laughed. “Serves you right for being greedy.”

  I smacked his chest. “Shut up.”

  He grabbed my ass and suddenly pressed himself inside me. I stooped low, keeping under the light, as he began to slide in and out of me again.

  “Shit, I could do this all day every day,” he grunted.

  “I want that,” I said.

  I began to work my hips, riding him in tune to his thrusts. We rocked together, his strong hands squeezing my tits and roaming along my hips, his big hard cock deep inside me.

  Our lips pushed together, tongues working each other, as he continued to fuck me like that. I could feel it then, building inside my clit again, radiating out through my body. The orgasm began to build and roll, and I went with it. I went with the flow of him, riding him to our own beat.

  “You’re going to come for me again, aren’t you?” he grunted.

  “Oh shit. I am. I’m so close.”

  “Come on my fat dick, Brie. Come for me.”

  I buried my face in his neck and grabbed onto his hair again. “Lincoln,” I gasped.

  And I came. It rolled through me, more powerful than the first time, as he continued to work my body. He thrust hard and fast, working me deep, and I moaned low and loud. It was an animal thing, the desperate and powerful orgasm that overtook my body, causing me to shake. I almost wanted to climb off him, the pleasure nearly overwhelming, but his strong hands held me in place as he kept fucking me, and it overloaded me with pleasure.

  “Shit, that fucking face you make,” he grunted. “I’m so close.”

  I came to, back to myself, and began to work my hips.

  “Come in me, Lincoln. Come in my little pussy,” I moaned in his ear.

  “Fuck, I want to fill you,” he groaned. I felt his hands grasp my hips hard as he kept thrusting, his whole body stiff.

  I knew he was coming, knew his cock was shooting deep into me, stopped by the condom. I rode him, wanting every drop.

  “Fuck, Brie,” he said again as his orgasm passed.

  His thrusts slowed and then stopped, and I couldn’t help but giggle. I lay on top of him, our sweating body pressed against each other, catching my breath.

  “That was—” I said.

  “Amazing,” he finished.

  “Yeah.” I kissed his neck and breathed his smell.

  His hands moved to my ass and he held me there.

  “That’s what I want,” I said.

  “I want it too. I want it every single day for as long as I can fuck.”

  I laughed. “What about after?”

  “There won’t be an after. I’ll always be able to fuck.”

  He grinned at me and I kissed his lips.

  “No more pretending,” I said.

  “I want this.”

  “I want this too.”

  He looked at me for a second and then pulled my face back against his and kissed me deep.

  I knew it was there. What I felt for him had always been there, hidden away, deep in every inch of me. At first, it was too much, too blinding.

  But I wasn’t denying it anymore. I wasn’t hiding it. I was his and I couldn’t help it. Nothing we said or did would change that fact.

  I was embracing it. I was relaxing and going with the flow.

  It was love. That’s what he called it.

  I either went with it or I drowned.

  I’d always go with Lincoln.

  Chapter Twenty-One: Lincoln

  When I told Jess that I wasn’t feeling well and was going to skip afternoon PT, she didn’t complain. Nobody seemed to mind. Tracey laughed and said not to make it a habit.

  Brie and I didn’t get out of bed once after that. We alternated between watching Netflix and talking and intense, sweaty sex.

  And I could have stayed in that bed for years. I could have lay there next to her and done nothing but eat and fuck and watch TV because she made me feel more together than I had ever felt before.

  Even falling from a building, the cool air whipping through my hair, didn’t stand up to how I felt around Brie. It was like something had broken in me years earlier, and that something was suddenly put back together. I was my best version around her.

  I felt whole. No more pretending. I didn’t need to say it out loud, not yet at least. She knew that I was deeply fucking in love with her.

  But then the sun began to rise and we hadn’t slept a wink. I didn’t want to risk falling asleep, not when we had so recently decided we weren’t stopping ourselves anymore.

  I sighed and stretched as the next episode of Friends

  began to play automatically.

  I hated Friends

  . But she seemed to like it, and that was good enough for me.

  “I need to get up,” I grumbled.

  She looked at me with those beautiful, wide eyes. “Why?”

  “I have something to do.”

  “Skip it. Forget about PT. You can go tomorrow.”

  I laughed. “I respect your dedication.”

  She snuggled against me and kissed my bare chest. “My dedication to your dick.”

  I grinned. “That’s what I like to hear.”

  “I know.” She bit my nipple.

  I laughed. “Easy there.”

  She smiled up at me. “Sure you have to go?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll be fast, though.”

  She pouted. “Fine.”

  I kissed her quick and then slipped out of bed before I had the chance to change my mind. I went into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and came back to get dressed.

  “Clean?” she asked me.

  “Clean enough.”

  “Where are you going?”

  I paused. No more secrets,

  I thought.

  “I’m going to talk to your dad.”

  She looked at me for a second. “Oh.”

  “I’ll be back soon. Promise. And I’ll skip one more day of PT.”

  “Okay. Be careful.”

  “Yeah.” I grabbed my laptop and the thumb drive and walked out into the hall.

  As I walked toward the room Cliff spent his mornings in, I couldn’t help but reflect on how much had changed. Almost no time at all had passed, and yet everything was different.

  The last time we spoke, I had nothing. He had all the cards and there was nothing that I could do.

  I smiled to myself as I pushed the door open and looked in at his piece-of-shit smug face reading the newspaper.

  “Morning, Lincoln,” he said, not bothering to look up.

  “We need to talk,” I said.

  He sighed. “Not this morning. I have a long day ahead of me.”

  I walked in and set my laptop down on the table, flipping the lid open. He watched as I put the password in.

  “I said, I’m not in the mood, Lincoln,” he said more forcefully.

  I smiled at him. “Shut up, Cliff. I have something you need to see.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t talk to me that way.”

  I plugged in the thumb drive, ignoring him, and pulled up the video file. I double clicked and it began to play.

  He looked at it. “I’m not interested in your little bullshit movies.”

  “You’re going to be interested in this one.”

  I tilted the screen toward him and stood back, arms crossed, to enjoy the show. I watched his face, puzzled at first, slowly slip into recognition.

  “What the fuck is this?” he asked.

  “Keep watching.”

  I could hardly conta
in the joy that tore through me as the color slowly drained from his face. I couldn’t see the screen, but I knew exactly what he was seeing.

  “Recognize that?” I asked.

  “Where did you get this?” he asked quietly.

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “That isn’t what you think it is.”

  “Actually, it’s exactly what I think it is.”

  He looked up at me. I shut the laptop lid and smiled at him.

  “Have you showed your mother yet?”

  “No, not yet.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “So, what is this? Blackmail?”

  “Something like that.”

  “What the fuck do you want, Lincoln?”

  “I want a few things. First, divorce my mom.”

  He said nothing, just shook his head.

  “Second, back off this documentary thing. You can finish filming it, but no more fucking with me.”

  He was silent for a second. “And?”

  “This last one isn’t exactly a demand. I’m just letting you know up front: I’m in love with your daughter.”

  He was silent for a second, and then he slowly stood up. I gripped my cane tightly and held it up.

  “Don’t give me an excuse, Cliff. I’d love to break your fucking knees.”

  He practically growled. I could see the rage running through him. I wanted him to attack me, wanted it so fucking badly. I didn’t care that he was about my size; I’d break him in two. And I’d have fun doing it. I couldn’t imagine anything better in the world than smashing my cane down on Cliff’s face.

  Instead, slowly, he sat back down. He looked deflated, and for a second I was disappointed.

  “What makes you think I’m going to do any of that?” he asked me.

  “You know why.”

  “Why don’t I send you back to jail, instead? That would keep you away from Aubrie.”

  “Because if you do that, my mom gets this video. And when she divorces your ass, she’ll take everything you fucking have, and then some.” I paused. “Not to mention the press. I’m sure they’d be interested in this.”

  That last part was a total bluff, but I figured his ego was large enough to believe he was worth something to the tabloids.

  “Why haven’t you given it to her yet?”

  “Because I’m not stupid. I’d rather make a bargain with you. Divorce her and at least keep half your assets. Otherwise, she gets this, and you get fucked.”

  He was silent, stewing in his rage, and I watched him. It was such an incredibly perfect moment. For too long he’d had the upper hand in our relationship, always one half step ahead of me. Finally having something to hang over him felt pretty fucking good.

  “Aubrie could never love someone like you,” he said softly.

  “You dumb asshole. You don’t know me and you sure as hell don’t know your daughter.”

  He met my gaze. “I divorce your mom and back off the documentary, and you destroy the video?”

  “That’s the deal.”

  “Fine.”

  “Oh, also, go back to L.A. tonight. Mom likes this house and isn’t going to want you skulking around.”

  “I’ll leave. But you shouldn’t press your luck, Lincoln.”

  I smiled. “No hard feelings, Cliff. It’s just business.”

  “You dumb asshole. Maybe you got away with this one, but I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Sure you are. You’re going back to L.A. to be with whatever B-list slut you’re currently fucking behind my mom’s back.”

  He made a face. “Fuck off now. I’m busy.”

  I stood there a second longer, basking in my victory, and then I gathered my stuff and left.

  I practically ran upstairs. I threw open the door, startling Brie, and crossed the room, dropping the laptop on the ground.

  I gathered her up in my arms and hugged her tight.

  She laughed. “What happened?”

  “You and me? We’re not going to be stepsiblings for too much longer.”

  There was a pause. “For real?”

  “For real. It’s done.”

  “Holy shit!” She kissed me hard.

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” I said once she pulled away.

  She moved out of my arms and lay back on the bed. “Poor Jules though.”

  “Despite her idiot, supermodel exterior, she’s pretty tough. She’ll be fine.”

  “Still. She doesn’t know yet, does she?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet. Cliff will handle that, I’m sure.”

  “I still can’t believe him.”

  “I know. But it’s over now.”

  “What about your parole?”

  “I’ll finish it out here. I don’t have too much longer.”

  “How long?”

  “Four months, give or take.”

  She blinked. “School starts back up in a few weeks.”

  “I know.”

  “I can’t stay. I have to go back,” she said softly.

  “I wouldn’t let you stay.”

  “But, what about—”

  I pressed myself up against her, cutting her off. “It’s just one semester. We can do one semester apart.”

  “We’ve had years apart already,” she said.

  “Exactly. We have a lot of practice.”

  She laughed and I kissed her softly, biting her lower lip gently.

  “Fine. One semester.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll send you dick pics every day. I wouldn’t want you to forget about it.”

  She giggled. “I don’t think I could forget about it if I tried.”

  “Good. And we’ll set you up with a nice video camera.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yep. We’ll Skype every day.”

  “No way I’m getting naked over the Internet, Lincoln.”

  I laughed. “We’ll see about that.”

  “Seriously. No way.”

  “Give it two weeks without this dick and you’ll be begging to strip down for me.”

  She gasped as I kissed her neck. “You asshole.”

  “What can I say? I’m very persuasive.”

  She looked me in the eye. “It’s really over? We don’t have to worry about my dad sending you to jail?”

  “It’s really over. You’re mine now.”

  She nodded and then kissed me.

  I kissed her back, full and deep.

  She had to leave soon. Only a few weeks to explore every inch of her body, taste every part of her skin. I wasn’t going to waste any time. I’d been away from her for far too long.

  As I lifted her shirt off, I knew that was it.

  I didn’t need anything else, ever again.

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Aubrie

  Charity Event #3

  Months later

  To: aubrie.evans@nd.edu

  From: lincoln@basedcarter.com

  Date: 12/15/2015

  Subject: long distance fuckin

  Brie baby,

  How you doin’? You know I hate that show, but I still have that stupid line stuck in my head. I mean, seriously, it’s like the basis for a failed spinoff and we’re supposed to still think it’s funny? But I guess it is if we’re talking about it.

  I don’t need to say this, but I’ll get it out up front: I miss your sweet ass. Yeah, I know, we Skype and text and talk on the phone all the time, so these emails are pretty pointless, but I like it anyway. Feels old school. Like I’m a soldier writing home from the front. My sore as hell legs sure make it feel like I’m in some shitty war.

  I do have some news that I haven’t gotten to share yet, even though you just texted me. Bacon and eggs for breakfast? Good job.

  The divorce is final. Jules and Cliff are officially splits. That was pretty fast, apparently. Cliff didn’t fight it. Jules wanted it over with. I feel bad about how all that went down, but Mom officially owns the Colorado house and I’m officially under her guardianship until my parole ends.


  Which, as you know, is next fucking week.

  So our parents are done. You know what that means, right?

  We’re no longer stepsiblings.

  We no longer have an illicit relationship.

  Is that fucking weird? Do you still want to fuck me? I have to be honest; most of the appeal was the taboo part. It was wrong, you know? Really fucking dirty. I loved going down on my stepsister right under her dad’s nose. Now that you’re just another girl, I don’t know. Seems like it lost its appeal.

  Just kidding.

  I love going down on you. And the stepsibling thing was more annoying than sexy. Okay, maybe at first it was pretty sexy, but I’m done with that.

  Another text? I didn’t even answer the first one. I had cereal for breakfast.

  I had another dream about you last night. I guess it came from our Skype convo. Your hair was really long, and we were both laying in the backyard here, completely naked. We wrapped ourselves in your hair, it was like Rapunzel length or some shit, and you started going down on me. I kept saying, “The hair will move the hair will move,” but you didn’t care. I stopped caring too as soon as you slipped your wet little pussy down on my cock. We fucked like that in the meadow, surrounded by your hair, like we were in some weird cocoon.

  I woke up with the biggest fucking morning wood ever. But you already know that, considering I sent you like ten pics of it.

  Is that getting to be a little much? Too bad. You need to keep my cock in mind at all times.

  Anyway, can you imagine what a hair cocoon would be like? Probably smell fucking bad. Really terrible. I mean, of course your hair smells amazing.

  But the point is, I can’t wait to see you again. I can’t wait to wrap my arms around you, taste your lips, grab that perfect ass and tits and ravage you. I want to fuck you so rough you can’t walk for a week. I want to tongue your wet little tight pussy for hours, make you ride my face like a slut, make you moan and come. I want to treat your body like my own personal fuck toy. I want to make you come so hard you forget your own fucking name.

  I can’t help myself. These emails always turn dirty. You’re just lodged so far in my skull, and I’m always so god damn hard for you.

  Okay, anyway, I have a surprise for you. I’m not saying what it is, but I promise it’s good. I think you’ll like it at least. And don’t call me after reading this and try guessing for, like, an hour. I’m not going to tell you. But be excited.