by Alexis Angel
"He didn't want you to come talk to me?" I ask, taking comfort in the small victory that she's defying him.
She shakes her head. "But I had to see you," she says softly looking down. I stay silent as her eyes come up to meet mine. "I had to find out why you stormed into Drake's office. Is it about my company?"
I wanna fucking laugh. Natalie's line of sex toys are revolutionary, but I'm not going to go tangle with Drake Carlton over an investment decision.
But I will fucking get in his face about something more important. About Natalie.
"Sloane," Natalie says to me one more time. "Why did you go get in an argument with Drake this morning?"
I look up at her.
How am I supposed to tell this woman that the only reason I went down to Drake's office on Wall Street was because I fucking hated the fact that she was fucking that man. That every fiber of my body wants her in my arms.
"Because you shouldn't be with Drake Carlton," I say to her instead. She draws in a sharp breath but I quickly add. "You should be with me."
Boom.
Now there's silence. She has nothing to say and I can tell by her eyes that she's not surprised.
She knew from the moment she met me that there was something between the two of us. When Linda and her joined our family, I knew the way we talked to each other, and the way we looked at one another, that we were hungering for each other's bodies.
"Sloane..." Natalie says, a bit unbalanced. You can tell she wasn't expecting me to come out and say anything like this. "We've known each other for so long."
"We have," I agree with her, taking a sip of my scotch and pushing my plate aside.
The time for eating steak is over.
I might be eating something else instead tonight. We'll see. The ball's in her court now. And you can tell just by sitting here that she's struggling with this concept.
Sure, she might've looked at me with lust and desire at the Yale Club when I crashed into her date. But looking and fantasizing are totally different from actually having.
And now she has the opportunity to actually have it. It's a bit disconcerting.
"All these years, Sloane," she tells me. "All these years and now you're finally telling me this. Is this because of me and Drake?"
Fuck that asshole cocksucker. This is about me and her. No one else.
"This is about you, babe," I tell her and reach over to take her hand. It's like an electric shock goes through her body when I make contact. She doesn't pull away, but she looks at me with wide fucking eyes. "You just being open to Drake made it all clear to me."
"Made what clear?" she asks.
"That I fucking want you, Natalie," I tell her, directly, straight up. "And I think you want me too. I think we both know that you're dying to have me just as much as I'm fucking dying to bang you."
"So romantic, Jesus," Natalie says, rolling her eyes and I smile. She's joking. Which is a good sign. "How do I know this isn't some alpha male bullshit just wanting what Drake has had?" she asks me.
"Oh it's totally wanting what Drake has had, don't doubt that for a second," I tell Natalie and her eyes go big and my admission. "Only, I've fucking wanted you since the first day I saw you and Linda and Drake introduced you. Every day since then I've wanted to rip those clothes off and devour you. Fucking make you cum and make you scream. With pleasure. That I know I can bring."
Natalie takes a deep breath. Her cheeks are flushed.
"But you were my stepsister," I say to her. "So I didn't do shit. I let it all go. And I imagined it instead when I was alone."
"You fantasized about me?" she asks, her eyes twinkling. "About having sex with me?"
I nod.
The time for hiding the truth is over. It's time to put it on the table.
Natalie finally pulls her hand away and leans back on the chair across from me. There's a long pause.
Finally, she looks at me.
"How far away is your apartment from here?" she asks me.
I smile.
"One57 is two blocks from here," I tell Natalie as I take a sip of my scotch. "Would you like to come over?"
I stand up and extend my arm to her.
She stands up and takes it.
"Yes, please," she tells me and smiles sweetly. "We have some lost time to make up for."
Natalie
I thought that my Fifth Avenue apartment was impressive, but it’s a dump compared to Sloane’s apartment. But what did I expect? He freaking lives at One57, the billionaire building. You simply can’t compete with that.
I mean, just look at the fancy decor. Minimalist and expensive, a black and white combination of good taste. Jesus, just hiring the decorator must've cost a fortune; although, no, Sloane probably hand picked every single piece of furniture and art inside of his apartment. Although he’d say he doesn’t give a fuck about decoration, he’s the kind of guy who loves to exert control—even if that means picking the rugs for his multimillion dollar apartment.
“You have nice taste,” I tell him, genuinely complimenting him. Of course, just like in court, everything I say can be used against me when I’m dealing with a man like him.
“Of course I have good taste,” he replies, closing the door to his apartment and closing the distance between us. He takes one hand to my hair and, tangling his fingers there, he yanks on it and forces me to throw my head back. I look into his eyes, surprised, but he just grins. “That’s why you’re here.”
I don’t even know what to say, but I guess it doesn’t even matter. We’ve said everything that needed to be said; the time for words is over. And I realize that when he takes his free hand and places it on my knee, sliding it under the hemline of my dress and flattening it against my thong.
I was already wet before he touched my pussy, but now I’m a complete mess.
“You have no idea how much I fucking want you,” he continues, pressing his hand harder against my pussy. I bite on my lower lip, holding my breath as my heart starts drumming a song of lust and anticipation. “I’ve been dreaming of this for far too long…”
“I bet you have…” I whisper back at him. “How many times have you jerked off thinking of me?” I tease him. Now, any other man would just grow embarrassed, and perhaps spit out some feeble excuse. But not Sloane.
“Too many to fucking count,” he replies in a heartbeat, his words loaded with so much desire that the air around us seems heavier now. “You know what I thought when I saw you for the first time?” he asks me, but I know he’s going to answer his own question. “Her pussy must be delicious.”
“It is delicious,” I respond, my skin prickling as the pressure of his fingers intensifies. I’m growing wetter by the second, and if I keep going like this I’m going to dehydrate. “But now you don’t need to think of that any longer… You can go right ahead and taste it.”
“You read my fucking mind, ‘sis,” he says, flicking my wrist to the side and running one fingertip up and down the length of my pussy lips. I gasp again, feeling the coiled tension in his touch. Just like a wild beast, Sloane’s ready for the kill.
Hooking his thumbs on my thong, he traces his contour, almost as if he’s ready to pull it down my legs but never actually doing it. He leans in, instead, and brushes his lips against mine.
“Our first kiss,” he whispers, his hands now on my thighs. “But I want my mouth somewhere else right now,” he adds, slowly going down to his knees.
I bite down on my lower lip as I look at the expression on his face, one of pure unbridled lust. Looking away from me, he grabs my dress and pushes it up, holding it around my waist. His eyes seem to grow wider as he looks at my drenched pussy, and I know that, inside his head, he’s playing out everything that’s going to happen. He waited for this for too long, and now he’s going to take his time.
With one hand holding my dress, he places the other one on my inner thigh, and then starts caressing my groin with one soft fingertip. He traces the contour of my thong patiently, g
oing from my left groin to my outer thigh, and then down to my ass. He does the same thing on my right groin, and a shiver goes up my spine as I realize that he’s going to tease me until I can no longer take it. The thing is, I don’t know if I can take any kind of teasing right now. I want it now.
I grab his hair and, moving fast, trying to pull him into me. He doesn’t budge of course, and just looks up at me with an amused expression on his face. “Seems like you’ve been waiting for this for a while too,” he says, and the tone of his voice tells me he’s enjoying every second of this.
“Maybe,” I shoot right back, fully knowing that I can’t hide my desire from him. Yeah, it’s true, I’ve lusted after him since the first time I saw him. There’s no point in hiding that anymore, is there? Sure, at the time I tried to reign in all of these thoughts, knowing that he was my stepbrother. But now… Well, now I just don’t care. Now it’s all out in the open, and it’s too late for me to go back.
“Maybe, uh?” he repeats, narrowing his eyes into slits. Then, looking straight at my pussy, he just dives into me. He opens his mouth wide and, before I can prepare myself for it, his lips are sucking on my pussy over the soaked fabric of my thong.
“Oh, God, that feels good,” I moan, closing my eyes as he sucks harder, his free hand now on my ass, squeezing my flesh eagerly.
“I know,” he tells me, pulling back and looking at me with a kind of lustful craziness dancing in his eyes. He pushes me on my hips and I stumble backwards, feeling my ass pressed against the back of his couch; following after me, he runs one hand up from the back of my knee into my ass, forcing me to lift my leg up. Knowing exactly what he wants me to do, I rest my leg over his shoulder, and then his mouth is on me again.
He sucks on me over my thong, but he does it so eagerly that I can’t help but pull at his hair and moan, my nerve endings ordering my brain to empty a barrage of endorphins into my bloodstream. I move my hips slightly, rubbing my wetness against his face, and that’s when he finally decides to grab my thong and pull it down my legs.
I gasp as I feel the fabric kissing my legs on its way down, but my gasp quickly turns into a quivering moan as Sloane leans into me. I hold my breath, readying myself to feel his lips on my pussy, but he stops right before he touches me; he just hovers over my pussy, and then parts his lips and reaches for me with the tip of his tongue.
I close my eyes at the same time his tongue touches me, allowing a pleasant warmness to crawl under my skin and nestle in my bones. Slowly moving his tongue up and down my pussy, he starts building up a rhythm, my moans becoming louder with each passing second.
Then, with no warning whatsoever, he dives into me again. Instinct kicks in and, grabbing his head, I thrust while he presses his mouth against my pussy. A sudden tower of fire rises from my pussy and goes straight into my brain, turning all my thoughts into ash. Now that he’s sucking on my pussy lips, lapping at them with his tongue, I couldn’t care less about the fact that he’s my stepbrother. Hell, he could be Santa Claus for all I care. All I know is that Sloane knows how to use his tongue, and that’s more than enough to win a woman over.
“That’s… so… good…” I manage to say between breaths, my body temperature rising as I keep on swaying my hips, rubbing my fluids over his mouth. He uses his tongue to jab at my insides, tilting his head sideways as he devours my pussy lips, and I lose all track of time.
Perhaps noticing that I’m about to lose all control, he decides to kick it up a notch; he places one arm over the leg I have on his shoulder, and then presses his thumb right above my clit. This time I don’t moan—oh, no, this time I scream.
“Fuck,” I hiss, gritting my teeth as my muscles start to tense up, pleasure pooling inside every fiber of my body. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” I plead, locking his head in place while I keep my pussy tightly pressed against his face. Even if he wanted to stop, I don’t think I’d let him do it.
Running his tongue up and down, in and out, he drives me to the edge of pleasure and I have no other option but to fall down and dive head first into an ocean of ecstasy. The orgasm hits me in a fraction of a second, exploding inside my body like a grenade, spitting its fragments of pure delight everywhere. There’s fire and ice in my mind, an apocalyptic storm raging inside every single one of my brain cells.
“Where did you learn that?” I ask him the moment I’m capable of speech once more, my lungs working desperately to get the air in.
“I was born this way,” he says, pulling back from me. I grin as I see my fluids dripping down his chin, and I realize that I still want more of this. Taking my leg out from his shoulder, I plant the sole of my feet against his chest and then push him down. He falls back on his ass, and then I force him to lie down on the floor. He does it willingly, looking up at me with a feverish expression on his face.
“You’re fucking wicked,” he tells me as I place my feet on the side of his head and lift up my dress, giving him a good view of my pussy.
“That’s my middle name, brother,” I reply, the word ‘brother’ tumbling out of my lips like a drug. I lower my body, placing my knees on the side of his head, and then let my pussy fall on his open mouth. Sitting on his face, I lean forward and place both my hands on the floor for support. “Oh, God,” I breathe out, his lips and tongue working my pussy with feverish movements.
Swaying my hips back and forth, I rub my pussy against his mouth. This time I’m the one taking control of my clit; using only two fingers, I place them on top of that sensitive spot and start stroking it softly, the movement of my fingers matching the rhythm of his tongue.
I close my eyes as I ride his face, surrendering to the feeling of pure bliss that drifts through my veins. My God, I didn’t know that I could have such pleasure just from being eaten out.
“I think my pussy is in love with your mouth,” I say out loud, not knowing if he can hear me, being that my thighs are pressing against his ears. Still, judging by the renewed effort with which he licks me, I’d say he heard me loud and clear.
I grit my teeth so hard that I might shatter them, the hot coals of pleasure burning up inside me once more. Flames of delight grow tall inside my loins and then spread outward, consuming everything on their path and forcing me to scream so loud that I’m guessing every tenant in One57 has heard me. Well, screw it; let them hear it.
I hold my position until the final waves of pleasure wash over me, every single muscle in my body trembling as if I’m running a fever. Only then do I roll to the side, sprawling all my limbs as exhaustion takes over. I feel as tired as if I’ve just finished running a marathon. And, still, that insidious voice of lust inside me keeps on whispering: more, more, more. It seems like I won’t be getting any rest any time soon.
Taking a deep breath, I go up to my feet, one hand on the couch for support. Sloane stands up as well, my fluids glistening on his mouth and chin, and he looks like a hungry wolf ready to devour his prey.
“Are you just going to stare or are you going to fuck me?” I throw my words at him, knowing that I’m poking that hungry wolf, making it angry and wild. And that’s exactly how I want it.
Without a single word, he grabs both my wrists and closes the distance between us. His eyes seem like they’re made of ice and fire at the same time, and I realize that’s what made me lust after him in the first place: his eyes. Sure, he’s taller and more handsome than any man should be allowed to be. But his eyes, Jesus, they seem like two precious stones, shining smartly and lulling everyone they fall upon into a trance.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll feel like a virgin again,” he whispers, his voice leaving no room for doubt: he intends to keep his promise.
“I think Drake already beat you there,” I poke the wolf once more, and his eyes shine so fiercely that I think I must’ve gone too far this time. The wolf in him is snarling, and it’s going to eat me whole.
“We’ll see ‘bout that,” he whispers, letting go of my wrists and placing both his hands on my ch
est, grabbing at the fabric of my dress. He tugs on it so violently that I almost fall against him, a ripping sound clawing at my eardrums as he turns my dress into tatters. He rips it off of my body in a hurry, a lustful intent infusing every movement of his.
Finally throwing my dress to the side, he takes one step back and grins, looking at me smartly. His eyes meet my bra and then he goes for it, his hands looking for the clasp between my shoulder blades. He unhooks it and pulls the bra off me in a hurry, the fury in his movements making me so wet that my juices are dripping down my legs.
“Much better,” he says, looking at me like I’m a piece of meat.
“I want you to use me,” I tell him, already knowing that it’s what he’s going to do. “I want you to do whatever you want to me,” I continue, not even knowing why I’m saying these things. Some deep and hidden side of me yearns for that - submission.
“On your knees,” he growls, his voice telling me that he’s fighting for control inside his own mind and body. On the one hand, he wants to simply go wild and jump on me; on the other, he wants to remain in control of everything that he does. He’s walking a thin line, like the sharp edge of a knife, and the tension between us is so thick you could cut through it with a wire.
Obeying him, I go down to my knees right in front of him. There’s a hard edge to his eyes as he starts unbuckling his belt; he pulls it out from its loop and then lets it slip from his fingers. I only realize that I’m holding my breath when he pulls his zipper down, the contour of his cock delineated under his black boxer briefs. Oh, God, he’s as big as Drake—with a cock like this, it’s hard to believe he’s not related to our stepdad.
Looking onto my eyes, he then takes his hands to the collar of his shirt and undoes the top button. He keeps on working his way down his shirt, popping button after button with restrained patience, and then he lets fall down his arms. Ropes of muscle move under his skin, his eight pack summoning all of my attention.
How can a man be so perfect? Cover models, move aside; Sloane beats all of you. Every single inch of him oozes sex, and I’m talking the dirty and animalistic kind of sex. His body wasn’t made for lovemaking; it was made for fucking.