“Have you been thinking about that, Jewel? What it will feel like to take me inside? All of me?”
She moaned again and shuddered, my finger up inside of her, stroking. “Yes,” she admitted.
“Do you want me to make you come right now, Jewel?” I asked, teasing her, stroking her exactly how she liked it. I could feel the tension building in her, the tremors growing inside, the way she clenched her thighs and ass, the way her need threatened to consume her.
“Please,” she whispered, clutching the counter. “Please,” she begged.
“We might get caught,” I murmured in her ear, repeating her words back. She was past the point of caring and I wanted to make her aware of it, her abandon, how impossible this was to resist. “You’re being so naughty, Jewel. You’re a bad girl, wanting to come so bad.”
She was panting and whining now, bucking into my hand, her juices dripping down around my fingers.
I grabbed her soaking, quivering slit in my hand and pushed two fingers up inside of her. “I can't wait to come in this pussy.”
“Ah… Ah!” she cried out, mewling and so close to coming I could almost taste it.
“No coming yet, Jewel,” I tormented her and she whimpered in protest. “But tonight I can’t wait to feel you come around my cock. I think you're going to come right when I enter you and you feel me stretching your pussy wide. You’re going to take all of me in. Every inch.”
“Uh…I…” I loved it when words got hard for her, the straight-A kid with no vocabulary, reduced to grunts like an animal in heat.
My voice harsh, giving her instructions, I commanded, “I want you to think about that all day, Jewel. Think about my cock sliding in. Will you do that for me?”
“Yes,” she moaned, panting, wanting me to make her promise, wild to do anything I asked.
Abruptly, I pulled back and took my hands off her. With a sudden, firm yank, I ripped her panties right off of her.
“Tuck!” Jewel exclaimed in shock, turning toward me, shivering and now naked under her skirt.
I brought the soaked lace and satin up to my face to smell her sweet musky scent. I’d never get enough. Drawing my tongue right up the middle of her panties where she’d left her juices, I savored her taste. Jewel watched me, transfixed by my lust mixing with hers. Then I balled them up in my fist so I could take them with me and keep them with me all day.
Looking deep in her eyes, I told her, “I’m going to take my time with you tonight. I’m going to take you slow, make your first time right. Then I’m going to fuck you like an animal. I’m going to pump my cock up inside of you all night and you’re going to take me again and again and again.”
I left her there flushed, nipples hard, hands gripping the counter behind her, lips open and panting.
§
That night she went out to the movies, slipped out of the house like a ghost. I found out about it from her mom. I came home from the gym and she mentioned it, light, “Jewel’s at the movies. Your father and I are off to a party.” Of course Jewel had gone out. To a fucking movie, probably with Mike.
Our parents were headed to exactly the kind of party they liked, VIPs, celebrities, they’d milk it for all it was worth. They’d be out all night.
What a fucking joke.
Jax and a couple other guys at the gym liked a bar nearby, a divvy place with none of the glitz and glam of the places I used to frequent. It suited me fine. I was in no mood for small talk anyway. Good thing, these guys didn’t do chit chat. They drank, they played pool, they threw darts and they hit on women. Simple as that.
I did the first thing on the list, and not that much. Former me would have gone for it, soaked myself in the hard stuff, let everything slip away into a warm haze. So what if I didn’t remember the next day? I was Tucker Fucking Leland Helmsworth the third.
Only that wasn’t me anymore. Somewhere along the line I’d gone from trying to change to changing. I was a fighter now, through and through. Committed, dedicated. I wouldn’t do that to my body, wouldn’t fuck up my shot, so close to me now I could feel it coming into my hands.
As for the rest of it, the games and the girls, I wasn’t interested. I never thought I’d say it and mean it, but there was only one woman who held my interest. No one else would do.
“Hey, sexy.” A busty woman with cherry red lipstick came to sit down next to me in our booth. A couple of the other guys answered her though she’d been looking right at me.
“Haven’t seen you here before.” She ran a hand along my bicep, clearly liking what she saw.
“Nope.” I took a sip of my beer.
“You like to play?” She had the small waist and huge tits I liked, the curves that could take a hard fuck all night long. It wasn’t that I didn’t like what I saw, I just didn’t want it. New for me.
“Not tonight,” I growled.
“He’s got a girl,” Jax informed her. “But this guy’s free.” He pointed at one of his buddies, turning her attentions in a more welcome direction.
I had a girl. Ha. Where the fuck was she? Jewel belonged to me. I felt it in my bones. This thing between us might have started as a game, messing with the repressed virgin I’d been stuck with as a stepsister. The fact that she was smoking hot had just been icing on the cake.
But somewhere along the line it had changed, become much more. The sounds she made, the way she smelled, her skin so soft and creamy. On some girls pale looked sickly, like a vampire in L.A., but Jewel looked like her name—a rare beauty. There was something classical in her looks, the red sweep of her hair. The dark pink of her nipples. The perfect sweet lips of her pussy, spread for me, wet and quivering as she bucked into my face needing more.
No one else would do.
I slammed down my beer bottle, not even done with it. But I was done with it. I was headed home. And I was headed for Jewel.
CHAPTER 21
Jewel
Saturday night when I got home he wasn’t there. Flooded with disappointment, I kicked myself for being so stupid. I should be glad he wasn’t there. I should be relieved. I’d gone out to a movie with the express purpose of avoiding him. Our parents would be out practically all night at some huge party. I couldn’t be in the house with just him.
He’d been like an animal all week, stalking me, watching me, torturing me. Making me wet. The heated way he looked at me, touching me with raw power and lust. He frightened me. But even more terrifying was the intensity of my response. He turned me into an animal, driven, reckless, needing one thing and one thing only.
He’d told me what he was going to do to me tonight. It had been all I could think about since. I might have avoided him with my body, but my mind had been locked on him, his words, his promises, his heat. He bewitched me, entangled my mind, melted me to him.
That’s why I’d gone out to the movies. Sitting there with a group of people from my internship, I tried to relax. For two hours I could pretend I was normal, just hanging out with some friends from work. My mind wandered, of course, to where it always did. But for two hours I could sit in the dark and pretend everything was fine. Even though I knew it wasn’t.
Most of the group had headed out to a bar afterwards. I’d declined, coming back home. I was tired, I’d told them.
I was anything but. I got myself a glass of water and wandered through the rooms. There were a whole bunch I’d never even gone into. Who needed a mansion that big? I rattled around, haunting the hallways, finally ending up frustrated and restless in my bedroom.
I knew our parents would be out late. It was only ten thirty. They were probably just getting started. I paced the perimeter of my room. Where had Tuck gone? He was probably with some of those skanks from the MMA club. I was sure they were waiting for him, ready to do anything he wanted. Two at a time. And they wouldn’t play head games with him like me. They’d deliver.
I should feel relieved that he’d finally given up, stopped stalking me like his prey and gone for an easier catch. I shouldn’t
feel so tortured. I shouldn’t secretly wish he’d come home, take me in his arms and haul me up to his room despite my protests, no matter what objections I offered, not stopping until he’d made me his.
Were those his footsteps on the stairs? I paused, my heart fluttering in my chest. Not another sound came from outside the door. False alarm.
We wouldn’t be living like this for much longer. Two weeks from today I’d be flying back to Massachusetts. I knew the smart thing would be to end this now, move out, maybe spend the last two weeks crashing on a couch at Maria or Mike's place. At the very least I should stay up in my bedroom and lock the door, take a sleeping pill if I needed to and knock myself out. I was on a collision course and yet I kept insisting on getting straight out into the middle of the freeway, asking for it.
I left my room and headed downstairs. A book in my hand, I told myself I’d read on the couch. That would be more comfortable than the chair in my room. Yeah, right.
Like a child, I kept on making excuses to duck into the kitchen and look out the window. As if that would draw him home sooner. I wanted to see the headlights of his car, see him returning. To me. Despite all I’d done to fight him off, I wanted him to come for me.
Finally, in the living room, I heard the faint rumble of the garage door rising up. I froze. My heart stopped beating. The moment I’d been waiting for, now I couldn’t decide if I wanted it. I should run. I didn't.
When he walked in, I was in the kitchen pouring myself a glass of water, my shaking hands betraying my nerves.
He walked in, tossed his keys on the table, then devoured me with his gaze.
“You waited up for me,” he said, low and dangerous.
“No,” I protested lamely. “I was just down here reading.”
“Mm-hmm.” The sound rumbled deep in his massive chest. He wore a black t-shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders. I could see the ridges and planes of his muscles, so defined and cut I wanted to sink my teeth into them. He stepped closer.
“You waited up,” he repeated.
I swallowed nervously, my heart beating fast as a hummingbird. I set the water glass down, afraid I might drop it I was trembling so much. “I just…” I stammered, “I was having trouble sleeping.”
“Missing me?” The hunger in his dark eyes was unmistakable, overpowering.
This was a mistake, a huge mistake. “I was just heading back—” I tried, my eyes darting nervously to the doorway.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he continued, drawing nearer.
I exhaled, brought my hands up over my face. This was all too intense. I felt like a madwoman. “I'm so confused, Tuck. I’m so mixed up. I don't know what’s going on here.”
“You need to stop fighting,” he explained, low, controlled and certain. “This is going to happen.”
“I'm scared. I can’t do this.” Tears threatened at my eyes, burning. I’d never felt so torn.
“You can’t fight this. It’s too strong.” He stood only a few feet away now. I could be in his arms in a heartbeat if I moved toward him. But still I pushed him away.
“I don't think—”
“Don't think.” He closed the distance between us, his arms encircling me in his warmth, his hands tracing down my back, circling my waist. It felt so good, my eyes closed and I swayed into him.
"You’re mine," he growled, dipping his mouth down to my throat, licking me there, claiming me.
I put my hands out, up against his chest, one last shred of protest left. “I can't be.”
“All this struggle, all this resisting.” His words wove a spell over me, low and heated and dominant as he licked and sucked and kissed my throat. “Give in, Jewel. Give in to me. You’re mine.”
But I couldn’t do it. My body couldn’t be more desperate for it. But my brain wouldn’t let me. I pulled back, looked down at the floor panting and shook my head.
“Then I'm going to have to show you,” he declared. Before I knew what was happening, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder like I didn’t weigh a thing.
“Tuck, what are you doing?” I cried out, shocked. I smacked his huge back but my fists fell off of him completely unnoticed.
Paying no mind to my protests, he brought me over to the living room couch, sat down and drew me over his lap. My chest down on the couch, he held me there. One hand on my upper back, he used the other to move my hips directly over his groin.
“Right there,” he said, starting to caress my ass cheeks lightly, lovingly, teasingly through the soft, thin fabric of my boxer shorts.
“What are you doing?” I felt trapped, frightened and already so aroused. What was he going to do to me?
In a low, wicked voice as he touched me, he asked, “Have you ever had a spanking before, Jewel?”
“What?” I spat out, twisting under his grip. This couldn’t be happening. Spankings were for toddlers with tantrums. “You can't be serious,” I managed.
In answer to my question, he reached up, grabbed the waistband on my shorts and yanked them down and off my legs entirely, throwing them to the side.
I gasped and struggled. “What are you doing?”
He pinned me, his hand on my upper back firmly mashing my breasts into the couch cushion. He positioned me back exactly where he wanted me. Helpless, across his lap, he started stroking me again, his large, calloused, palm now directly on my naked, quivering ass cheeks. I shook with fear and deep, dark arousal.
In a low, wicked voice he reprimanded me. “You've been naughty, Jewel. You’ve been avoiding me.”
“No!” I tried to twist away from his hand, but I couldn’t. He held me there, so vulnerable, grabbing my ass cheek rough in his palm until I stopped struggling. Then he rewarded my compliance with soft, sweet strokes, the kind that coaxed a sigh from deep within my body even though I didn’t want to let it out.
“See how much you want this, Jewel?” he asked, still in that low, controlled voice. “But you keep fighting.” He caressed the swell of my ass cheek, lightly fingering my crack, so gentle, so sweet, in stark contrast with the low, coiled, possessive tension in his voice.
“I'm going to teach you a lesson tonight, Jewel. One you’ll never forget. You’re mine.” With that he withdrew his hand from my ass. I squirmed, instantly missing the heat of his touch. When his hand came down again, it made a loud, sharp smack against my sensitive flesh.
Shocked, the pain rocketed through me and I screamed. His hand came down again, hard and hot on my soft, vulnerable ass. “What are you doing?” I yelled, my hands fisting into the couch.
“I’m spanking you,” he grunted. Smack, his hand bore down again, forceful on my ass.
“Tuck!” Humiliation poured over me, hot and thick. He’d taken me over his knee and was spanking me? “Ow!” I twisted in pain and embarrassment. His hand was huge and he was spanking me so hard. I wanted it to stop.
“You'll take your punishment and you'll like it.” He denied me escape, holding me there, relentlessly bringing his hand down again and again on my pale, quivering flesh.
Trembling all over, heat spiked through my body, the sharp pain of the spanking, and more. He kept at it, his hand bearing down on me relentless, and I couldn’t think of anything else, couldn’t even squirm or try to get away. I wasn’t conscious of anything other than his heat, his maleness, his scent, the feel of him holding me, keeping me positioned there so exposed, exactly where he wanted me, my ass cheeks up, taking his punishment.
Thwack, his hand landed hard on me again and a cry escaped my lips. Panting like an animal, every nerve ending tingling and alive, my every sense focused entirely on my ass, the shooting pain driven by his hand. This time he left his palm on my skin for a moment afterwards, caressing my sensitive, sore flesh.
“So pink,” he murmured, appreciatively. “So sensitive.” I squirmed against his lap, uncomfortable now for so many reasons. Embarrassment engulfed me as I realized I could feel wetness forming for him deep in my pussy. From his spanking.
What was wrong with me?
Smack, he brought this hand down on me again, disciplining me. A low, heavy moan escaped my lips.
“That’s right,” he coaxed, his palm grazing the hot surface of my ass, petting, praising me. “That’s right. Take your spanking.”
Spank, his hand hit me again and this time it just felt good, so hot and right, the side of his hand hitting lower this time, directly onto my slick, needy pussy.
“Ah!” I cried out, the sensation on my clit shooting through my body.
“Get that ass up for me, baby.” He pushed my ass up higher in the air and I complied, eager, arching my back and giving him more, my thighs slightly parted. “Yes, that’s how I like it.” He trailed fingers along my inner thigh, and I panted for him, waiting, wanting.
Smack, he gave me what I needed, what I was starting to crave, that intense sensation, the heavy erotic pull as he spanked me, this time more directly on my clit.
“Oh, Tuck.” My voice sounded throaty, needy, overcome with lust. I needed him to spank me, smack my pussy. Each time he hit it I nearly buckled into orgasm. I’d been so pent up all week, so taut and tense, almost at a boiling point. Now it was time for it to all come tumbling down, crashing over me.
“Yes,” he murmured, bringing his hand down again. “You like your spanking, don’t you?”
“Ah!” I cried out, embarrassed, undone, desperately loving my spanking.
His large hand came down again, hard and full on my soaking folds. It made a wet, smacking sound. “So wet,” he groaned. I moaned and clawed at the couch. He brought two fingers to my slit, slippery and begging for him. He traced along my opening, light and teasing.
“Please,” I begged him. I needed him inside me. I needed to come.
Smack, he spanked my clit. I bucked against his hand, the tense heat and waves of orgasm threatening to surface and engulf me.
“You want this,” he spoke as he stroked me. “You keep acting like you don’t. But you want this so bad.” He worked my dripping sex, bringing pleasure after the pain, every nerve sensitive and quivering, so much liquid heat there waiting for him. I panted beneath his hand.
Off Limits: A Stepbrother MMA Romance Page 20