Kellan (27 page)

“Are you one of those people, Iris?”
he asked me. “Someone who could care about me—maybe love me—despite all I’ve
done?”

My pulse pounded in my ears. After
everything Slade had done, I should have said no. I should have been cruel. I
should have told him that there was no way in hell someone like him would ever
earn the forgiveness of someone like me. I’d never open up to him the way I had
before, not now, not ever.

But that was a lie. The truth was
that I’d always believed in this part of him. I’d always imagined that Slade
was so much more than the devil-may-care façade he wanted us all to see. And
now, there was proof that
that
Slade existed—that he’d just been buried
under heaps of misery and shame.

Slade needed to be welcomed with open
arms. He needed to be accepted. He needed to be loved. That was something we
both needed.

We needed to heal.

I leaned into my stepbrother’s touch.
His palm against my cheek felt so warm, so right. “I could be,” I whispered to
him, “if you’ll let me.”

Slade didn’t answer with words.
Instead, he slipped his hand around to the back of my head, grasping my hair
tight. I gasped, my head tilting back so that I was staring straight up into
his eyes. He searched my gaze for a moment, his breath sweet and heady in my
nose, like incense or the bouquet of a fine wine. I closed my eyes and breathed
him in. Slade was intoxicating.

Almost violently, he crushed my lips
with his, pulling me into a hot, heavy kiss. I sank my teeth into his lower
lip, surrendering to his lust, his power, while returning his passion with my
own. The force of Slade’s need nearly swept me off my feet and I clung to his
strong arms, digging my nails into his flesh as he moaned and pressed against
me for more. God, he was hard—harder than he’d ever been for me before. I could
feel him pulsing against my thigh as he shoved me back toward my bedroom, his
hand still tangled in my hair while the other groped at my ass.

As I stumbled, Slade snarled and
lifted me against his body, suffocating me with his embrace. I wrapped my legs
around him and let him carry me to the bed, raking my nails through his hair to
the symphony of his groans.

When Slade kissed me now, it was
deeper. When he pushed and pulled my body, it wasn’t just for his pleasure, or
some conquest. When he threw me onto my back so hard it stole my breath and
climbed on top of me, knees sinking deep into my mattress, the predatory stare
he gave me was different, somehow—like for the first time, Slade wasn’t worried
about getting too close. All he wanted was to be inside me, as deep as he could
possibly be. I knew, just by looking into his eyes, that he wanted no barriers
between us.

I needed that just as much as he did.
I needed to be naked and vulnerable in his arms. And he needed to be naked and
vulnerable in mine.

I don’t remember Slade pulling off my
clothes, nor do I remember tearing off his. That part was a blur of mouths and
limbs, grasping hands, fingers sinking deep into each others’ skin. I just know
that when I raised my hips up, his cock was there, hard and swollen and begging
to be touched. I could have enveloped him in my mouth then, could have sucked
until my cheeks hollowed just the way he’d taught me to so many years ago, but
I knew that wasn’t what he wanted. Slade wanted to mount me like an animal. He
wanted my pussy like a drowning man yearns for air and land. And I was only too
eager to give it to him.

I spread my legs wide, accepting
Slade’s hips between my thighs, the shadows in my bedroom making his Adonis
lines seem even deeper like they’d been chiseled out of the finest, smoothest
marble in all the world—maybe even the universe. He held himself over me,
looking down into my face, one hand on my jaw and his thumb on my lips, letting
me nip at it, suck on it, drive his dick to even greater heights of hardness.

“Tell me you want me,” he said. The
pleading in his eyes let me know it was more than just his ego that needed to
hear those words—it was his heart, too. “Tell me you want me here, with you,
Iris.”

“I want you, Slade,” I whispered,
biting down on his thumb as he set his flared tip against my entrance. “I want
you here, with me. I want you inside me. And I never want you to leave again.”

With a low moan, Slade pushed his
dick inside me in one, smooth thrust right up to the hilt. I gasped as he
filled me so completely. Even though we’d fucked not so long ago, I still
wasn’t used to the unbelievable fullness of his cock.

Slade held still a moment, just
looking down at me, his shaft twitching against my heated core. I whimpered
softly, squirming my hips against his own, desperate for him to make love to
me. When he drew back and filled me up again, my breasts bounced with the force
and my eyes rolled back into my head. Two thrusts, and I was already in heaven.
Slade really did know how to work me.

He grabbed my leg and turned me,
forcing me onto my stomach with his dick still inside, and I yelped and bit the
pillow as he began to fuck me full-force. There was desperation in every
plunge, and the way he bottomed out inside me made my thighs shake. I struggled
onto my knees but Slade pushed me back onto my belly, lying on top of me, his
hands over mine, pinning me to the bed. His breath against my ear was
sweltering, and when he bit my neck, pleasure flooded through me.

“Fuck, Slade!” I moaned, arching my
back so that my ass pressed up against his pistoning hips. “Oh, you get in so
deep…!”

Slade replied by bucking into me
harder, faster, stretching my channel to its limits as he showered my shoulders
in kisses and nips. My nipples brushed against my soft sheets, sending jolts of
ecstasy straight into my clit. I spread my legs wider for him, pressing my
pussy into the mattress so that every time he pumped into me, my clit benefited
from the friction. Slade was gripping my hands so tight both our palms were
sweaty and my knuckles ached, but every arc of pain was sweet as it rolled
through me. It only made me want him harder. Faster. Deeper than ever before.

A very familiar tension was building
between my hips, stretching across like a rubber band pulled too hard. I would
snap any second; I was sure of it. I wriggled against Slade, increasing the
pace, and was rewarded with a growl against my nape, one that sent shivers up
and down my spine.

“I’m gonna cum,” I told him, my voice
a high, needful whine. My toes curled as Slade shoved into me as hard as he
could, the sound of our flesh meeting echoing through my bedroom. “Oh, fuck,
Slade. Cum with me. Please. I want to feel you…”

Slade drew up onto his knees, yanking
my hips up with him, and slammed his dick into my cunt in a frantic rhythm, his
fingers holding so tightly to my ass that I knew he would leave bruises. I
didn’t care. As far as I was concerned, those would be black and blue
forget-me-nots, a reminder of the bliss and solace we’d found in one another’s
arms.

Stars burst in front of my eyes as I
finally let go around my stepbrother’s cock, my walls pulsing, milking him for
all he was worth. Slade grunted as I flailed, holding me still as he rammed
into me even faster, his thighs tensing, his breath coming harsh through his
teeth. And then he was filling me too, crying out into the darkness of my room
as his cock spasmed, gushing warmth and satisfaction deep into my womb. I
buried my face in my pillow and moaned, still convulsing with my own rapture as
Slade claimed me, made me his.

“I’m sorry,” he said against my back,
pulling my hair away to kiss along my neck, my shoulders, my face. “Can you
forgive me?”

I nodded to him, nuzzling him as the
last of his lust trickled out of me and over my inner thighs. “I forgive you,
Slade,” I whispered, and kissed his mouth.

Finally, all that pain, all that
anger, all that despair was finally over, and in its wake came an afterglow so
sweet, so tender, and so comfortable that when we fell asleep in a lazy pile,
neither of us could even remember drifting off. It was like this was exactly
where we were meant to be. For the first time in a long time, I felt at home.

~
TWELVE ~

Slade

I awoke the next
morning with my arms wrapped tight around Iris’ sleeping form, her back pressed
against my chest as the two of us spooned in the lazy, rose gold sun. Her body
felt so warm against mine, like sitting next to a fire without the fear of
being burned. I could feel her heart beating closely with mine as she pressed
back against my chest, making soft sounds as she continued to sleep.

It
was a strange feeling, waking up in the same bed after a night of sex. Usually
I would have left before whatever woman I was with had even woken up, but this
time, with Iris, it was different. I didn’t want to be the guy who constantly
stole out of women’s lives for fear of feeling something other than desire for
their bodies. Not anymore, anyway. Iris deserved better than that, and so did
I.

I
closed my eyes, listening to the sounds of the world outside of the apartment
as I lay there holding my stepsister in my arms. She fit so well against me,
almost a perfect fit as her backside pressed just right against my crotch, my
dick nestled against her firm little ass as I began to harden in my regular
morning fashion.

“Trying
for round two already?” Iris asked in a sleepy, amused voice. She turned her
head to look up at me, a smile on her gorgeous lips. I hadn’t even realized she
was awake for all the time I’d spent looking at her. Everything had seemed so
quiet and still that I almost didn’t want it to end.

“I’m
up for it if you are,” I chuckled, leaning in to gently plant a kiss on her, my
hand caressing the line of her jaw. “Though I might do better with a shower
first.”

Iris
gave me another smile and nodded, running her hand through my hair as the two
of us lounged in her bed together. Her pretty eyes stared up into mine, two
gorgeous jewels glimmering in the morning sunlight. I couldn’t recall ever
seeing a sight more beautiful in my entire life than Iris’s body lying across
her crumpled sheets.

“How’d
you sleep?” she asked as she traced her fingers along the swell of my bicep.
“Good, I hope.”

“Best
I’ve had in a long time,” I said. I toyed with a few strands of her hair,
wondering how after all this time I’d never actually stopped to enjoy the
feeling of waking up to a lover in my arms.

Something
inside of me felt strange—different than anything I’d felt in the last decade.
In fact, the feeling was so foreign to me that at first I almost didn’t
recognize what it was. My chest felt lighter, and I couldn’t for the life of me
wipe this ridiculous smile off my face. Every second felt new and
fresh—exciting, even. It only hit me after a few moments that that must be what
it’s like to finally be happy. It only made sense; Iris had been the missing
piece of the puzzle of my life, and now that she was back in the picture,
everything else was finally falling into place.

For
the first time, I began to consider my future and the things that life might
actually hold for me beyond my next sexual conquest. I felt as though a door
had been opened up right in front of me, leading me out into a wider world of
possibility, and it was all because of Iris.

“I
wanted to thank you,” she whispered, running the tips of her fingers over my
pecs. “No one’s taken care of me the way you did last night. I felt close to you
for the first time in a long time.”

“I
felt the same way,” I said as I gently pressed my lips to hers. “I don’t think
I’ve felt this close to anyone… not in the last seven years.”

“I
guess you should have stuck around, then,” she giggled, returning my kisses
tenderly, drawing closer to my warm, muscular body.

She’s
right,
I thought, pulling her nearer and
stroking the silken locks of her hair.
If I’d just stayed and taken care of
my problems like a man, I could have saved myself all of this trouble.

I
sighed, resting my forehead against hers as she snuggled in, seeking my warmth.
There was so much I had to make up for, so many sins against the people I loved
that needed to be mitigated. I knew, deep down, that the road to forgiveness
would be a long one, but I also knew that the first step had been making things
right by Iris, which meant telling her a secret I’d been keeping since before
I’d left home.

“Iris,”
I whispered to her as she rested her head on my chest, “can I tell you
something?”

My
heart was racing, nervously thudding in my chest as I stood on the precipice of
revealing the one thing I had tried never to admit, to never fall for.

“Of
course, Slade,” she whispered softly, caressing my stubbled cheek. “You can
tell me anything.”

I
felt a warmth blossoming in my chest, something I’d not felt since my mother
died. I’d almost forgotten that kind of hazy warmth even existed, that deep
sense of caring and contentment—the feeling of
truly
being loved.

“I
love you, Iris,” I whispered to her, the words just barely audible as I
breathed them out into the quiet of the morning. “I’ve loved you for so long,
but I was so angry with my dad that I used that love as something to hurt him
with. I should never have done that to you. I love you so much.”

At
first, Iris was silent. She just looked into my eyes, her expression frozen in
place in what I assumed was shock. The songs of birds and dull roar of cars
from the road the only sounds that filtered through the window of her
apartment, filling the gap that I had left by my confession. My chest tightened
as the lull wore on, as I began to fear that she didn’t feel the same way. It
seemed like an eternity, waiting for her to respond.

Without
warning, Iris’ lips crashed into mine, and she rolled me over onto my back as
she straddled my waist. Soft, gentle sounds escaped her as she laid kiss after
kiss on me. I kissed her back eagerly, wrapping my fingers up in her hair and
pulling her in closer.

“I
love you too, Slade,” she whispered back finally, looking deep into my eyes
before slowly and deliberately kissing me one last time. “I always have.”

Finally,
there it was—the fulfillment I’d been looking for, the way to fill the void in
my heart I’d carried with me for damn near my whole life. I wanted to make love
to Iris again, to show her exactly how much I cared. Besides, there was
something I hadn’t done for her yet—something I’d been aching to do ever since
she’d shown up at my hospital back in the city.

“I
think this is cause for celebration,” I said, rolling Iris off me and onto her
back on the bed.

She
giggled, but that sound soon dropped to a low, breathy moan as I linked her
knees over my back. I smirked, opening her thighs so I could delve into her
folds, spreading them with my fingers, my wrist on her mound.

“Slade,”
she said, biting her lip, “you don’t have to…”

“I
know,” I said, studying the perfect, pink interior of her slit. “I don’t
have
to do anything, Iris. Not for anyone or anything. I’m doing this because I
want
to.”

Iris
gasped as I gently lifted the hood away from her clit, exposing that shiny
pearl to the tip of my tongue. I reached out to flick it, sampling a taste of
my stepsister’s pussy. It was even sweeter than I remembered it, like honey and
strawberries, but with a kick that reminded me of some kind of spice—saffron or
cinnamon, maybe. Something that made my tongue tingle as I pressed it to her
again.

“Fuck,
Slade,” she moaned, her hips gradually relaxing as I started to lick her in
earnest. “Nobody’s done this for me since…”

My
cock hardened against the sheets as I recalled the circumstances surrounding
the last time I’d done this to her. Her eyes had been all wide and shocked when
I’d suggested she should let me bestow upon her the greatest pleasure known to
womankind. I think she thought I was exaggerating, right up until she let me
under her skirt.

Iris
wasn’t clothed now. She was naked, exposed, like a platter of the finest
delicacies laid out for my tasting. I loved the way she was spread, so
shameless and inviting. I buried my tongue in between her folds, flicking
rapidly, driving her toward those cliffs of blissful madness just because I
could.

It
gave me a rush, making her squirm and writhe. And when she came on my face—when
her juices flowed over my lips and tongue like the sweetest nectar—my dick
spasmed in eager reply.

“Fuck
me, Slade,” Iris begged, biting her lip with her bangs dangling in front of her
eyes. “Again. I want you to fuck me again.”

And
who was I to deny such a desperate command?

I
climbed up my stepsister’s body, kissing my way over her taut tummy, her full
breasts, and taking one of her puffy, pink nipples into my mouth. I swirled my
tongue around that very sensitive tip, making her buck and cry out for the
satisfaction of my cock inside her. I hadn’t been bareback with anyone since
her, and God, it had been so exhilarating to slide into her without a barrier
between us—to give myself to someone that way. It didn’t hurt that I got to cum
in her pussy, either. There was something so satisfying about that on a primal
level. I didn’t want it to stop.

I
took each of her legs in one hand and bent them back until her knees touched
her shoulders. Iris looked up at me, a little grin on her face, as I slid my
shaft up and down her wet slit. “Planning on going deep?” she purred at me.

I
smirked, slapping my tip against her entrance. “Only because I know that’s how
you like it, sis.”

Iris
arched off the bed as I plunged into her, giving her no quarter as I bottomed
out. She shrieked as I hit her cervix, raking her nails down my arms the way
she had in the pool house seven years ago. I groaned as her pussy clenched,
milking at my rod. Going this deep with no condom, and with her so wet and
wanting—I knew I wasn’t going to last long.

And
when she started playing with her tits, all bets were off.

I
growled and dug my fingers into her calves, sawing my cock in and out of her
pussy to the cadence of her delighted squeals. I loved that I could look down
and see my cock pistoning in and out of her, could see her pussy swallow me
whole with each stroke. Iris was the only one who could take me like this, who
could accept all of me not only without complaint, but while begging for more.
No other woman had been able to handle my giant cock, but with Iris, it was
second nature.

“Shit.
You got me ready to cum,” I told her in a low, guttural groan. It was true—my
balls were already tightening, getting heavier and heavier as I stroked in and
out of her tight cunt. “Oh, God, Iris, I’m gonna fill you up…”

“Yeah,”
she grunted, licking her lips as she, too, watched the steady rhythm of my dick
fucking her. When I pulsed in warning, a shudder ran through her perfect body,
beckoning me deeper, harder, faster. “Do it, Slade. Cum inside me. Make me
yours. I know you want to…”

I
snarled and bucked in and out of her, making Iris scream until the volume of my
voice almost matched hers. With a strangled cry, I pulled back so only my tip
was inside her and stroked my remaining length, a hot, sizzling pleasure
running through me as I dumped yet another thick load into Iris’ pussy.

Only
this time, I hadn’t been all the way in, and most of it came dripping back out.
I moaned, watching my cream pie seep out onto the sheets, the sight of all that
jizz trickling down her thighs serving to heighten my pleasure. I shot a few
more ropes into her, then leaned back, kissing her feet.

“I’m
going to step into the shower,” I said, laughing as she stretched out beneath
me, a pout on her face. The way her breasts hung so perfectly made them
impossible not to squeeze. She grinned and I buried my face in her cleavage for
a moment, inhaling her scent—she was sweet, like honey and lavender. “I’ll be
right back. I promise.”

“You’d
better be,” she teased, begrudgingly allowing me to slip out of her so I could
pad naked and barefoot into her bathroom. I turned on the shower as Iris
sprawled across her bed like a lazy cat, knowing that no matter how steamy the
water was, it wouldn’t compare to the heat I felt all over every time I looked
at her.

When
I was with Iris, I felt invincible. Like nothing could ever go wrong.

Looking
back on it, that kind of idiotic thinking was probably what jinxed us.