by Alexis Angel
She’s a great actor, and I’m actually impressed. Though she might truly be apologetic and if so, she shouldn’t be. She has nothing to feel bad about—she should be proud.
“Don’t be. Don’t apologize for having fun.”
I wink at her while eyeing her up and down.
She might be humiliated or nervous as fuck, but she still looks fucking amazing.
“Do you even know each other?” Carl says, moving away from Carol and closer to me.
“We just met actually. Impressive, right?”
I can see her out of the corner my eye squeeze herself more, and she moves away from me.
“This isn’t something I do often. Or ever, actually. I got caught up in the moment,” she admits to each of them.
What does that mean?
According to my calculations, her and that mouth are very experienced. She’s a fucking expert, and that tongue of hers proves it. And I know it was more than a moment that brought her to her knees.
“It’s disgusting,” Carol spits out at her, and I almost go to her, like Carl did to Carol, feeling oddly protective.
“What we did was anything but disgusting, Carol. You should try it sometime. Carl might give you another diamond for it.” I wink at her and smile at Carl. “You’re welcome in advance.”
“Don’t talk to my wife like that, Owen. Watch yourself.”
He goes over to Carol and holds her again. It’s almost pathetic how much he babies her. She’s a grown ass woman; she’ll be fine.
“Mira, do you know who he is?” Carol asks again, this time more pointed and stern.
“No, Mom. I just met him, like he said.”
There’s the spitfire woman I saw earlier, the one who quips back and talks dirty. The one—unlike Carol—who doesn’t cower when something doesn’t go her way.
Wait. What the fuck did she just call her?
It doesn’t hit me at first because I’m distracted by that fiery mouth…but did she fucking say mom?
Carol is her mom?
What the fuck?
Carl looks at me with his eyebrows raised and with a ‘you’re fucked’ expression.
“He’s your uncle now,” Carol says, and she points to me.
Time slows down, and I feel like everything is going in slow motion.
I watch as Mira—who I guess is my fucking niece now—becomes visibly ill. She looks like she’s been slapped across the face and kicked in the gut.
I think she might vomit.
And I think I might, too. My previously slow pace is now at light-speed, and the world spirals around me. I feel sick to my stomach.
I knew what I was doing wasn’t right per se and that I’m fucked up…but I didn’t know it was this fucked up.
Fucking hell.
The woman whose mouth was around my dick, expertly milking me, and who makes me hard as fuck whenever I see her, is my niece.
Chapter 6
Mira
“He’s your uncle now,” Mom says.
The room starts spinning like I’ve downed a dozen shots. Unfortunately, I’m stone-cold sober. I turn away from Mom, Carl, and Owen, facing the wall while I regain my bearings.
He’s your uncle.
Uncle?
I can still taste him in my mouth as my mom’s words swirl in my head.
I look over at Owen. He might technically be my uncle now, but for fuck’s sake—I still want him. He opened something inside me…and all I want to do is explore it more.
If my mom and Carl would get the hell out of their suite already, I’d show Owen exactly how much I don’t care about some arbitrary connection we share just because she and Carl repeated a few words in front of a justice of the peace.
“Out of all the rooms you could have picked, you chose our wedding suite.” Carl is practically screaming at Owen. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. That’s the typical dick move for you, Owen.”
“And it’s typically self-centered of you to think it has anything to do with you,” Owen fires back. “I didn’t purposely pick your room. I just grabbed the first one I saw.”
I look over to see Owen buttoning up his shirt, and it takes all my willpower to not run the six feet over to him and rip that bespoke shirt off his muscular chest.
My cunt is wet at just the thought of it. I might have hit the snooze button a few too many times on my love life, but now that Owen woke me up, I’m determined to make up for lost time.
What I’m saying is: I want his dick in my mouth, in my cunt, and, well, anywhere he wants to put it. I’m game.
Why should I suffer because my gold-digging mom married the brother of the guy whose dick I just sucked?
Besides, the brothers don’t even seem to like each other very much. In fact, the way they’re hurling insults at each other, I’d guess they hate each other. As the newly crowned step-daughter of one of them, I could use this opportunity to forge a peace deal between the siblings.
I could. But I think I’ll use this animosity for my own nefarious purposes. If I play my cards right, I could be riding Owen’s twelve-inch monster of a dick before the stroke of midnight.
“Here’s a thought, dear brother,” Owen sneers. “Maybe if you and Carol never had this ‘whirlwind romance’ that’s merely five weeks old, some of your extended, estranged family members would have had a chance to meet her and her adult offspring.”
Owen made a point to emphasize a few keywords, and I’m not crazy, right? Owen just made it pretty fucking clear that he’s more than fine with picking up where Carl and Carol so rudely interrupted.
“You’re a pig,” Carl says. “Everyone under this roof knows the lurid acts you’ve been indulging in since you arrived.”
“‘Lurid acts’?” Owen snorts. “You sound like a repressed Methodist preacher. And we both know you do not live in a glass house.”
“You just fucked your niece!” Carl yells back. “You can hardly claim the moral high ground.”
“Okay, first, we didn’t fuck,” Owen says. “All she did was suck my dick. Expertly, I might add.”
“If this is you helping,” I say as my face turns bright red. “Please stop.”
Carl turns to my mom and says, “Is this the result of your stellar parenting? A slut of a daughter who blows a guy she just met?”
Before I can regain the wind knocked out of me from Carl’s hurtful words, Owen crosses the room in an instant, landing a punch across Carl’s chin.
By the way, Stepdad Dearest crumples from the hit, it’s clear he wasn’t expecting it. I don’t think any of us were. Not even Owen, by the stunned way he’s looking at me.
“You can jump in here anytime, Mom.”
“Honestly, Mira, how can I defend what you did?”
“You’re right,” I say, more resigned than anything. “After all these years, I should know to come to my own defense. We both know you’re never going to do it. You’re hardly the maternal type.”
Carl has grabbed a towel from the bathroom and is holding it on his chin.
There’s an evil part of me that’s hoping the happy couple hasn’t taken their official photos yet. Having his swollen, bruised chin captured forever in their wedding pictures would make this shitty situation a little bit better.
Having Owen pull me out of here, so he can fuck me all night long would make it a lot better.
“Is it not maternal to do everything she can to save your business?” Carl asks.
“My business doesn’t need saving,” I correct the wimp of a man. “Far from it. It’s in expansion mode.”
“Ah, yes, that’s why you need money from me,” Carl sneers.
“As I recall, I presented you with an opportunity to invest in my business, and you agreed that it was a smart business decision.”
“That was before I saw this particularly seedy side of you, Mira,” Carl says, still holding the towel to his chin. “Now I’m thinking that investing my money in your little lingerie project wouldn’t look good. I’d hate to be associated with this
relationship.”
Carl punctuates the last part by dismissively waving his hands between me and Owen.
Carl starts pacing back and forth, literally puffing out his chest as he starts to realize the power he’s wielding.
Power over me, unfortunately.
“I could be persuaded to keep my promise and become your angel investor on one condition,” Carl says.
I lean back on the table, almost knocking over the bottle of Dom Perignon chilling in the ice bucket.
I briefly consider popping open the bottle and taking a few big gulps. I could use a stiff drink. I could use a stiff something, at least, and by the looks of Owen standing a few feet from me, even in the midst of all this family drama, it wouldn’t take much to get him stiff.
And as soon as this shit show is over, I intend to find out exactly what it would take. In the meantime, I’m enjoying staring at him lasciviously and watching him check out my body in return.
“What’s the condition?” I ask, paying more attention to how Owen is responding to me perched on the edge of the dresser, seductively rubbing my right leg up and down against my left leg.
“You and Owen are never to see each other again.”
This gets my attention. I slide off the table and face Carl.
“You’d blackmail me to stay away from your brother?”
“Half-brother,” Owen interjects.
I raise an eyebrow at him, filing that bit of good news away for later when I ravage him.
“Half or not,” Mom says. “He’s your family now. That makes him off limits.”
I’ve spent my whole life without a father only to be screwed over by my mom’s husband as an adult.
“If the idea of just doing the right thing isn’t enough to keep your clothes on, maybe the threat of losing your company will keep you in line,” Carl says. “And from what I hear, Owen, your precarious professional reputation can’t handle one more scandal.”
Owen sighs and says, “You win.”
“What?” I practically shriek. “You’re just going to cave like that?”
Owen walks over to me, stopping mere inches from me. Damn if he doesn’t have a gravitational pull—and I’m about to fall into his orbit.
“As obnoxious as he is, he has a point,” Owen says. “I can’t afford another public scandal. Not after last year’s incident in Budapest. And it sounds like you can’t afford to say no to Carl’s money.”
Fuck, he’s right. I have big plans to take my company to the next level.
Plans that need more funds than I currently have. Those plans are exactly why I went against my better judgment and asked Carl to invest.
“Okay. We’ll stay away from each other,” I say.
Both Carl and Mom visibly sigh in relief. Judging by the way both of their bodies relax at my agreement, they believe me. Owen might even believe me. He might even believe himself.
I know the truth, though. I have no intention of staying away from the gorgeous man standing mere inches from me. In just the few hours that I’ve known him, he’s stirred something in me. Something primal and alive.
Something I have every intention of exploring again the first chance I get.
And screw anyone who gets in my way.
Chapter 7
Owen
I briskly walk down the stairs and out of that bastard’s tackily decorated estate to my car parked out front. Away from the alluring woman who so expertly sucked me bone dry. My dick is protesting my decision to put distance between me and her, but I’m listening to my clearer mind while I still can.
Thankfully, my car is parked along the circular driveway, so I don’t have to go hunting for it or wait for the valets to bring it around. I kept it parked there just in case I had to leave in a hurry.
This isn’t the first time my half-brother and I have come to blows, and one of us has stormed out. Okay, it is the first time it was over one of us having a dalliance with a girl.
I slide into the driver’s seat and press the start button when, suddenly, she’s in the seat beside me.
“Were you following me this whole time?” I ask the petite blonde with the magical mouth.
“I thought that was the plan,” she says with this sexy half-smile that has my dick standing at attention.
“Do you not hear well, or are you just a rebel? We promised your parents we’d stay away from each other.”
“Not my parents—my mother and her new husband,” she says. “Big difference.”
A flash of light behind Mira catches my eye.
I look around the front yard and notice there are more than a few cameras, all here to capture the happy couple for the society pages. Only, they’re not capturing images of Carl and Carol, but rather Carol’s daughter and Carl’s half-brother.
Fucking hell. This isn’t good.
It’s also not good that my first instinct is to peel out of here with the one person I’m supposed to stay away from sitting beside me.
“You’re not exactly following your own advice,” Mira laughs, holding on to the passenger door as I quickly gain speed and make a sharp turn out of the driveway.
Even though I’m whipping in and out of Midtown traffic, I can’t help but notice Mira sitting mere inches from me. And she knows it.
She’s putting on a show for me, arching her back and running her hand down her collarbone towards her tits that are straining against her dress.
They’re not the only thing straining as I feel my dick come alive.
“So, what’s the story between you and your brother?” Mira says, clearly loving the way it takes me a moment to snap out of my horny ogling of her tits to register the question she just asked me.
“Half-brother,” I correct.
“Right,” she purrs, stroking her hand up and down my forearm.
“There’s no love lost between us,” I say, clearing my throat. “We might share the Westbrook name, but he’s the one who grew up with all the benefits of it. My mother was pushed to the side. I had to make my own way.”
“It looks like you’ve done well for yourself,” Mira says, switching from my arm to my thigh. It takes every ounce of willpower to not pull over and fuck her right here and now.
“I get by,” I say.
Mira catches my eye and teases me by slowly pulling up her dress, exposing two incredibly toned, tanned thighs and just the hint of lacy lingerie covering her cunt.
I wonder if that’s a piece from her company?
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” I say, even as I can’t help myself but place a hand on her thigh.
She moans in response.
“You have a lot to lose,” I say. “Your company has even more to lose.”
Mira practically melts into the back of the bucket seat as I continue to graze my hand up and down her thigh. Each time I come to the top, I tease her even more by flicking my pinky in the direction of her wet cunt. It’s not enough to satisfy either of us—just enough to make her breathe harder.
“What if I think that I have even more to gain?”
“This isn’t the beginning of some great love affair,” I snicker. “If that’s what you’re thinking…”
“I have no delusions as to what this is.”
“Good,” I say. “To be clear—I want to fuck you until you can’t stand. I want to wear out your cunt and have you beg for even more.”
“Mmmm,” Mira says through hooded eyes, thoroughly enjoying my fingers getting closer to her cunt with each stroke. “That was my plan, too. Except, I thought I’d suck your throbbing dick a few more times. At least.”
With that, she reaches over and cups my dick through my pants.
She shoots me a victorious smile when she confirms that, yes, all twelve of my inches are completely hard at the thought of either her pussy or her mouth wrapped around it.
“Where do you live? I’ll drop you off,” I say, trying to save both of us from our baser impulses, even though indulging in those impulses would prove v
ery satisfying for both of us.
“I’m ready to get off,” Mira whispers in my ear, “but I’m not ready to go home.”
“Such a dirty mouth on such a pretty girl,” I say.
She’s still nuzzling my neck, flicking her tongue along my earlobe, sending shivers up and down my spine all the way to my dick that’s still being massaged.
We stop at a light, and I take the opportunity to grab her head in one hand, crushing my mouth over hers. Only when our kiss is interrupted by the sound of an impatient New York driver honking from behind us do we come up for air.
I hit the gas, continuing on our way.
“You have no idea how dirty I can get,” she says, running her thumb up and down the length of my swollen dick, still encased in these fucking pants that feel more like a straightjacket than the bottom half of a handmade suit from the finest tailor in London.
“I think I have some idea, after your performance in that bedroom,” I remind her, continuing my own teasing.
This time, I dip a finger under her lace panties to feel the edge of her smoothly waxed cunt. She responds by pushing herself closer into my hand.
“Then let’s make it a repeat performance,” she says breathlessly.
As if I wasn’t horny enough for this little slut. Seeing her writhing beside me, yearning for my every touch, is making it difficult to keep a level head about our situation.
My desire takes over, and against every bit of my better judgment—which honestly, I’ve never been considered someone with an abundance of good judgment to begin with—I change lanes, turning left.
“Where are we heading?”
“My place, I guess,” I say, looking into her blue eyes darkened with lust.
“Good,” she purrs as the last of my defenses fall to her siren ways.
I’ve made a lot of bad decisions in my life, but all of them were made because there was some hedonistic benefit to be had. A mayor’s wife here, a councilman’s daughter there.
But this little minx beside me, who’s stroking my dick while I inch closer and closer to capturing her moist cunt in my hand, might just be my downfall.
And if I’m going down, I intend to enjoy every filthy, cum-covered moment.