Slade: A Stepbrother Romance (7 page)

If I was being honest with myself,
that was what made Slade so hot—that cockiness. It was what made him
successful. And I tolerated it because I knew it was just the tip of the
iceberg. It made my panties wet, but what had always kept me coming back to his
bed was everything else I knew about him.

I’d seen straight through his
shit-eating grin and Devil-may-care attitude when I was eighteen. Seven years
later, I could see through it again. Because when push came to shove—when there
was something really, actually important on the line—Slade dropped the act.
Just like a few minutes ago, when he’d looked into my eyes with all that worry,
all that concern, and told me he didn’t mean to hurt me, that he was sorry,
that he would have stopped if I’d asked him to. That was the real Slade Jarvis.
That was the guy I’d fallen in love with.

Could I do that again?

“Don’t,” I breathed, the conflict in
my mind raging on beneath a veil of desire. I shook my head at Slade. “We
can’t…”

“We can,” he answered, the words
thick like sweet molasses in his mouth. “We’ve done it before.”

My eyelashes fluttered without my
consent. “And look where that got us.”

Slade pressed into me, his erection
strong against my taut lower tummy, and I gasped. I had never quite gotten over
his cock—its fullness, its length, the heavy scent of it. Suddenly I was
thinking about the way I’d wake him up with secret blow jobs or how he’d drive
it into me when it rained, my screams rivaling the claps of thunder outside our
home. He drove me to madness with that cock once, and he could do it again. I
was sure of it.

My breasts hitched beneath my robe
and Slade pulled it away, revealing my pebbled nipples peeking through the thin
fabric of my cami. He said, “You always left my bed satisfied, Iris. And the
couch. And the table. And anywhere else I fucked that sweet pussy.” With a
barely-there touch, he dropped his hand to the silk belt shielding my lower
body from his view and tugged. I should have stopped him. I should have
wrenched away and fled to my room. But the truth was that I was aching to know
how his fingers would feel between my legs, how the sweep of his thumb on my
pussy lips would give me goosebumps.

I was aching to give myself to Slade,
the man who satisfied me in a way only he could. The man who knew the deepest,
most sinful parts of me. The man who’d spoiled me with his divine cock.

My robe fell open and Slade’s lustful
gaze dipped to the creamy tops of my thighs, then higher up to my lacy boy
shorts. He smirked and touched a single finger to my pussy through the fabric
and came away wet.

“This for me?” he asked.

I nodded wordlessly. My skin was on
fire, begging for his touch. Another heavy throb resounded through my body as
Slade touched me there again, teasing along the patterns woven into my panties.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say who
you’re so wet for.”

“Slade,” I gasped as a last-ditch
rebuke, but just a little more pressure from his finger and he’d found my clit.
I arched so hard my head hit the wall and Slade chuckled, tapping slowly,
rhythmically, driving me to a whimper.

“Say it.”

I knew what it would mean. I knew
that giving in like this would be an invitation, but I no longer cared. I
wanted Slade inside me. I wanted to be that stupid teenage girl again. I wanted
to suck and fuck my stepbrother like the slut he’d trained me to be, the one no
other man could handle or tame. I wanted to forget I was nice, responsible Iris
Walker and give in to the desire I’d harbored for years.

“You,” I moaned, looking into his
eyes as I writhed against his hard, hot body. “I’m wet for you.”

Slade grinned from ear to ear. In the
dim light, he looked absolutely wolfish, and I knew I’d made a deal with the
Devil.

The second he thrust his hand into my
panties, and then his fingers inside me, I knew I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

~
EIGHT ~

Slade

It
all felt like a dream.

There
had been nights where I’d pictured this happening in my head, Iris and I
entwined in one another like we’d been seven years ago. It was what I had ached
for ever since I’d left, a burning desire inside of me that I tried so hard to
sate, sacrificing countless women on the altar of my own needs. As I held her
body tightly against my own, I wondered if I hadn’t nodded off back home and
slipped into one of those old fantasies.

“Slade,”
Iris whimpered as I swept my hands over her body. I pulled at what scant few
clothes still remained on her, keeping me from what I’d craved for almost a
decade. I was already mostly naked, my cock rigid and alert, its thick,
pulsating tip yearning to fill the warm wetness of my stepsister’s womanhood.

“We—”
Iris let out a gasp, cutting herself off as I pulled at her cami. My deft
fingers had her undone in a matter of seconds. She grabbed at her flesh, shyly
holding her hands over her soft, perky breasts in an attempt at modesty.

I
smirked, knowing that once I got her going, that modesty would go right out the
window. My cock throbbed as I remembered how much of a sex kitten she’d been
for me, pushing me down on the spare bed in the pool house, crawling onto me
like a hungry cat before she sat her warm, wet snatch onto my throbbing member.

She
looked down at my rigid shaft, biting nervously on her bottom lip. I knew that
she was remembering the exact same things that I was, especially the days where
we’d done it right under our parents’ noses. I watched her squirm, her thighs parting,
revealing a dark patch of moisture soaking through her panties. Just the sight
of it was enough to make me moan.

I
slid my fingers underneath the band of her lacy little panties, pulling them
down over the mound of her perfectly sculpted ass and along the smooth line of
her thighs. She was neatly trimmed just above that wanting little pussy, her
lips wet with a glossy sheen of lust. I’d almost forgotten just how pretty her
cunt was, how good it always looked right before I’d sank my rod deep inside of
her. I remembered the way she’d moan, a smile spreading across her lips as my
enormous girth filled her to the brim.

“Slade,”
Iris whined again, spreading her thighs wider as she looked up into my eyes.
“God, I forgot how big you were!”

“Is
that what you want?” I asked, my grin spreading wider as I pulled her to me by
her hips, making her yelp as I slid my tip right against her opening through my
boxer briefs. She moaned, chewing on her lip and she stared again into my eyes,
nodding emphatically.

“Please!”
she cried, breathless. Those words had been whispered and moaned to me before,
and as I stared down at her, I saw the same lustful hunger that I’d always made
burn inside of her. “I’ve missed it so much…”

I
worked my boxer briefs off and pressed my throbbing head against her tight
little opening, lifting her by her ass so that I could penetrate her, working
it deeper, taking it nice and slow. I closed my eyes, allowing those hazy
memories to flow over me as my stepsister began to arch and moan. Iris squirmed
as I slowly thrust my hard cock deeper and deeper, her hips bucking softly.

She
let out a soft, satisfied squeal as I finally slid all the way up to my thick
base, letting myself enjoy the feeling of her tight pussy pulsing around my
shaft. Sure, there had been women almost as tight as Iris, but none of them
were nearly as satisfying. There was something about
her
that made
everything feel more intense, made me feel more
alive
.

“That
feels so good,” she cooed, catching my gaze as she slid her middle and
forefinger into her mouth, wetting them before she slid her hand down between
her thighs. I watched as she started to tease on her clit just above my shaft,
her hips still squirming around it, grinding slowly on my base. “Fuck, it’s so
big!”

I
let out a moan, closing my eyes as I started to work myself in and out of her
warmth, my hands gripping tight onto her hips. With each thrust I pulled her
against me, plunging nice and deep into the soaking wet depths of her sex. She
let out a cry of pleasure with each thrust, her eyes closed as she worked her
aching clit.

I
loved the way she moved as I fucked her, her arm up above her head as her body
stretched and writhed in ecstasy. Her back arched as her fingers continued to
play between her legs, and she moaned with every hard thrust I made inside of
her, filling her hot snatch over and over as our hips ground against one
another’s.

“Fuck!”
she cried, grabbing at her soft, bouncing breasts with her free hand, her thumb
worrying her pretty little pink nipples. Her cheeks began to flush with color,
and soon I knew she’d be screaming my name. “Holy shit, Slade!”

“That’s
it, Iris,” I said, encouraging her as I continued to pound my thick cock nice
and deep inside of her. “That’s the way you like it, isn’t it?”

“Yes,”
she whispered, her eyes shut tight as a pulse of pleasure coursed through her
body, making her convulse. “Nobody’s ever measured up, Slade. Nobody’s ever
made me feel the way you do.”

I
groaned, my balls beginning to tighten as my base pulsed. I knew it wouldn’t be
long until I came, especially if she kept talking like
that
. I
remembered the first time I’d came inside of her sweet little cunt all those
years ago, how nervous the idea had made her. But before long, I had her
begging for it, aching to feel it dripping out of her after I’d pulled out.

“Oh,
fuck!” Iris cried out again, arching her back again as I drove myself even
harder inside of her. “Don’t stop!”

I
closed my eyes, snarling as I felt a sense of satisfaction washing over me.
After all those years of regretfully dreaming of this exact moment, of having
myself buried deep inside of my stepsister, it was finally here. I finally had
Iris again, all to myself, just the way I’d secretly yearned for, but never
thought I’d have. Her pussy felt so good around me, the way her wet lips slid
so perfectly around my cock made it so much harder to hold back the tide of cum
that had been building up since I’d first laid eyes on her after seven long
years.

“Iris,”
I grunted, my voice husky with lust, “I’m so fucking close.”

She
let out a moan, still eagerly flicking and rubbing her clit. Her mouth silently
begged “please” over and over, her eyes wild with desire as her breasts heaved
with every labored breath. It was more than I could take. There was no holding
back.

“Fuck!”
I hissed, closing my eyes as I drove myself hard and deep inside of her, a
sudden pulse radiating through me as my thick, hot load gushed deep inside of
her. I never expected it to feel as good as it did, as though nothing compared
to the pure ecstasy of my stepsister’s velvety folds wrapped around my thrumming
shaft. I felt a sense of pure oblivion washing over me, radiating out from my
crotch and all the way out to my fingers and toes.

“God!
Yes!” Iris moaned as I continued my rough thrusts deep inside of her. I could
tell that she was about to climax right on my still-gushing cock. Just the
thought of it seemed to heighten my own orgasm, and I watched as she held her
breath, her entire body tightening at once before exploding in a keening wail.
“Fuck!”

Iris
writhed, her limbs flailing beyond her control. Her abs flexed and tightened as
she sat almost bolt upright, reaching out with her free hand to pull me into a
passionate, steamy kiss.

I
closed my eyes, moaning against her mouth as the two of us rode out our orgasms
together, our hips still grinding and bucking until we both settled against the
wall, our eyes locked as we fought to catch our breath.

After
the rush had worn away, all that was left was silence.

Iris
and I sat beside one another in bed, she with the covers drawn up over her
chest and held tight there, protecting her nakedness from my eyes. I could have
stood if she’d yelled at me or if she’d even just told me to leave, but the
silence between us was probably worse than anything she could have said.

I
did it again
, I thought.
I’m letting her get
too close
.

I
knew what would happen if I let this continue, knew where it would turn. In the
end, after everything was said and done, there was really no future for Iris
and me—only the long, torturous struggle of being one another’s biggest regret.
I couldn’t let that happen again, not after all this time. I knew that if I
stayed, if I tried to make her care for me again, it would only end in irrevocable
disaster.

“I
should go,” I said, my voice soft as I glanced toward her to see her face
turned away from me. Shame radiated off of her, regret plain in her shining,
watery eyes. This wasn’t what she had really wanted, not how she’d envisioned
it. Deep down, I knew exactly what she thought—that this had all been one, big
mistake.

Again.
We made this mistake again. And it’s all my fucking fault.

“What?”
Iris turned to look at me, swallowing thickly. “Slade, I thought—”

“It
was fun, Iris,” I said, trying my best to sound as aloof as possible. I knew
how to break a woman’s heart, even better than I had seven years ago. If I
didn’t do it now, then there’d only be more heartache later. “But I think it’s
time I left.”

“You
can’t just leave!” she said, confusion clouding her cerulean eyes. “I don’t
understand. We just—”

“We
fucked, Iris,” I said, giving a practiced chuckle. “There’s nothing really to
talk about. We had a good time, and now it’s time to part ways. I can get
myself a room somewhere.”

I
saw the hurt on her face wash over her like an ocean wave. Her eyes filled with
tears and her bottom lip began to tremble. I knew that it had to happen, to
save her from what I’d do to her if this kept up. I needed to protect her—from
me
.

“This
isn’t fair,” she protested as I stood up and started to make for the living
room to collect my clothes. Of course it wasn’t fair, but I had to put her at a
distance if I ever wanted to be able to live with myself again. If she got
attached to me one more time, I didn’t think either of us could take it. “How
are you just going to do this to me and then leave?”

“I’ve
done it before,” I reminded her with a cold shrug as I picked up my pants.
“What made you think that this was anything more than an excuse to get laid,
Iris? I mean, did you really expect this to
become
something?”

I
turned around, intent on driving the argument home with another cutting remark,
but instead I felt the hard sting of Iris’s hand on my cheek. I was stunned,
not just from the force of her blow, but from the utter shock that she would
actually hit me—not that I didn’t deserve it.

“You’re
never going to change, are you?” she asked, though I knew better than to answer.
She was shaking, staring at me with such betrayal and hate—the kind I hadn’t
seen since that day at the pool house. I hated to see her like this, hated what
I’d done to her with only a day’s worth of time. I felt like a monster, some
horrible animal who only had the ability to wreck everything around it.