Stepbrother, Mine #2 (7 page)

She grinned. “Erection?”

“No, that wasn’t it. I think maybe the word you used was cock.”

She shook her head. “Oh, no. I don’t think I’d use that word.” Then she grinned impishly as she turned in his arms, her body resting across his chest. “There is one word I know I would call it, though.”

“And what would that be?” he asked.

She leaned in and brushed her lips against his neck, sending ripples of awareness through him, right to his growing cock. Then he felt her warm, soft fingers wrap around him, and his breath caught.

“Magnificent,” she answered.

She stroked him, stoking his need. He wrapped his arms around her and stood up, lifting her to her feet. His mouth found hers and her tongue glided into his mouth, her hand still wrapped around him. He twitched within her grip. His hand slid to her ass and he pulled her in tight, rocking his pelvis toward her.

Her hand slipped from him as she eased back a little and opened the sheet. It dropped to the floor and she pressed her naked body close to his again. The heaven of feeling her soft, round breasts cushioned against him set his heart beating faster.

He wanted her again. Desperately.

But the blood on the discarded white sheet lying on the tiled floor reminded him of her state.

“The shower,” he murmured against her ear, then turned her and guided her to the glass door.

He drew her into the big, tiled shower with him and pressed her to the wall, kissing her as he turned on the water. Once it was the right temperature, he guided her under the flow. She kissed him, her hands stroking downward until she found his erection again, but he gripped her shoulders and turned her away from him to face the spray of water. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close.

*   *   *

Dana rested back against Mason, loving the size and strength of his big body behind her. So comforting. He grabbed a bar of soap from the holder in the wall and glided it over her stomach. Round and round. Then he took the bar in his hands and soaped them up, discarded it, and glided his hands over her breasts. The feel of his slick, sudsy hands gliding over them again and again filled her with heated need.

Then his soapy hands glided down her stomach, then lower. They slid between her legs and stroked over her intimate folds. But not the light touch of a lover during foreplay. Instead, his hands glided over her in steady, sure strokes, massaging her flesh over and over again. His confident strokes almost seemed disinterested, except that she could feel his hard, swollen cock pressed against her back.

“Oh, Mason, I want you inside me.”

He nuzzled her ear, then murmured, “You want what inside you?”

She giggled. “I want your cock inside me.”

One of his hands slid away from her, then she felt him grip his cock and the hot, hard flesh press against her. The large, bulbous head pushed against her yielding softness, then eased inside. She was sore from the previous night, but the small amount of pain was not enough to deter her growing hunger for him.

His big head stretched her wide. Pushing deeper. Until that thickest part of him was all the way inside her.

He continued pushing into her slowly. Oh, so slowly she thought she’d die of need.

“Mason,” she murmured, overwhelmed by the intensity of joining with him.

His lips brushed her neck in light kisses as his cock pushed deeper still. The thickness of him stretching her. Filling her further than she thought possible.

His arm came around her body again, his hand flattening on her stomach. His other hand still rested on the front of her mound.

She drew in some air, resting her head back against his solid chest.

“You feel so good inside me.”

He kissed her ear, then rocked his pelvis back, dragging his cockhead along her inner passage, then forward, pushing deep again.

“Oh, yes,” she murmured on a sigh.

“And you feel so good around me.” He rocked again, and she squeezed him inside. His groan stoked the fire inside her.

He continued to rock his pelvis, gliding within her. Sending electricity crackling through her.

He started pumping deeper, his body rocking against her, his big cock caressing her deeply. She began to tremble as her body blazed with desire and need. Pleasure rising inside her.

He thrust deeply into her now, his hands holding her tight to his body. His fingers found her clit and his first incendiary touch sparked joy within her. When his fingers glided over the bundle of nerves, her eyes widened at the intensity, then she moaned softly. The feel of the shower raining on her skin and his fingers coaxing her pleasure higher was simply exquisite.

She cried out as joy burst through her, carrying her higher and higher until all conscious thought fled. Ecstasy filled her as she moaned long and loud, the sound echoing around them in the tiled space.

He continued gliding into her as she rode the wave of pleasure, then he slowed, holding her tightly against him. His lips played along her neck as they stood, enmeshed together, his big cock still hard and twitching inside her.

Finally, he drew back, slipping himself from her body, and turned her.

“Mason, but you haven’t—”

He smiled down at her. “We’re not finished yet.”

He pressed her back against the tile wall and she felt his big cock slide into her again, entering her easily this time. His pelvis ground against her as his cock filled her completely.

The heat in his eyes as he gazed at her was intense. She could almost believe …

She reached up and stroked his cheek, their gazes locked.

“Mason, I—”

But he started to move, his cock stroking her inner passage as he drew back. Then he slowly glided forward again. His hot, hard flesh caressed her with each stroke. Slow and smooth. Pleasure fluttered through her like hot silk on a summer breeze. Calm and pleasant.

His sure strokes made her melt. The glow of her recent orgasm blazed brighter and she could feel the heat building once again.

She drew in a breath as she realized that … oh, God, it could be this easy. Pleasure effortlessly building. Filling her with each smooth, steady stroke of his cock. Until the heat washed over her and …

She clung to his shoulders. “Oh, Mason, I’m…” She moaned.

“Yes, sweetheart.” He gazed at her, his eyes glowing with incandescent heat. “Come for me.”

His words were too much. She gasped, then moaned as ecstasy swelled through again her in steady, cresting waves of sheer joy.

His thrusts sped up, his smooth strokes carrying her higher and higher. Her body shook within his arms as he drove into her faster and faster.

“Oh, God, Dana.” He surged deep, pressing her tight to the shower wall, then flooded her insides with liquid heat.

He groaned at his release and she squeezed him inside her. Then he slumped forward.

She wrapped her arms around him, loving his warm body so close to hers.

He drew back, smiling down at her.

“Oh, Mason…” Feelings welled up inside her and she couldn’t stop herself from uttering the words that fluttered in her heart. “I love you.”

*   *   *

Mason’s heart nearly stopped at her words, and her eyes widened as soon as she realized what she’d just said.

He tried to hide the maelstrom of emotions her words elicited, but his clenched jaw and stony expression gave him away. Watching her cringe, pain flashing through her eyes, made his gut clench.

“Mason, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

He took her mouth fiercely, stopping her words. Pulling her tight to him. Not wanting her to hurt, but knowing he could not reciprocate her words.

It could
never
work between them.

No matter how much he wanted it to.

When he pulled his mouth away, his expression still filled with anguish, he turned off the shower, then took her arm and guided her to the glass door. Before they stepped out, though, his gaze caught on a dot of deep red marring the pristine white tile floor of the shower. Then another.

He stepped back and his gaze glided up Dana’s legs. Another drop fell. Then he noticed a couple of red droplets on her inner thigh.

Blood.

“Dana, what the hell?”

She glanced downward. “Oh, they said this might happen.”

“Who is they?” he demanded.

Her gaze lifted to his. “I … uh … did some research about losing my virginity and some of the articles said that there might be blood for a few hours afterward.” She bit her lip. “Just a little.”

He just stared at the crimson droplets, swirling with the water. Spreading.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

Her teeth worked at her lower lip. “No.” But as he continued to pin her with an unflinching stare, she sighed. “A little. But it’s no big deal.”

“What did these articles say about that?”

“Just that it’s different for everyone, but some women do feel pain for a while after. They suggested taking over-the-counter pain killers, but I don’t usually bother—”

He took her hand, pushed open the shower door, and led her to the medicine cabinet, then grabbed a bottle of pain killer. He spilled out two caplets and handed them to her, then filled a paper cup from the dispenser with water.

“Take them.”

She gazed up at him and hesitated, then popped the pills in her mouth and swallowed some water.

“What else can I do for you?” he asked.

“I need a feminine napkin. There’s some in my purse.”

He nodded. “Stay here.”

He quickly dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist, then strode out of the bathroom and across the suite to where her pink sequined evening bag was lying on the floor by the couch. He picked it up, then glanced around for her underwear. The scrap of pink lace was lying on the floor by the bed. She probably needed something more substantial than that. He went to Dana’s room, punched in the combination, and opened the door.

When he stepped inside, he felt surrounded by her. There were traces of her everywhere. Her sweetness and her femininity were evident in the frilly cushions, the brush and mirror set on her dresser, the delicate figurines of fairies and angels on the bookshelf. Those ornaments she had left behind when his father and her mother had divorced, as if she’d wanted to leave behind all the memories of being here. But she’d taken her books. He remembered the wide range she used to have on these shelves. An eclectic selection of novels, biographies, history texts, and several other disciplines, had clearly shown her intellectual acumen, even at only eighteen.

He walked to the dresser and pulled open drawers until he found one full of underwear. It was a colorful, lacy jumble. He picked up a pair of fuchsia panties, then purple, but both were skimpy and … sexy. He swept through the mass of lace and satin until he spied a white pair. He snatched it up. Simple. Cotton. Substantial looking.

He wrapped his hand around them and returned to the bathroom in his suite. He knocked.

“Come in,” Dana called.

He stepped inside to find her sitting on the small bench, a big, white towel wrapped around her. He handed her the panties and her purse. She looked at the white garment, then frowned.

“Really? Granny panties?”

“I thought they’d work better … you know. With the thing.”

She laughed. “Men. You get so squeamish around feminine products.” She unzipped her purse and fumbled inside, then pulled out a small, pink package.

“I’ll be in the bedroom,” he said.

“Okay.”

He grabbed the soiled bedsheet and left the room, closing the door behind him. He retrieved some fresh sheets from the linen closet, and was just finishing making the bed when Dana came out of the bathroom. He tossed the heap of old sheets in the corner and turned toward her.

Her arms were crossed over her breasts, and all she wore were the panties he’d brought her. The sight of her in those plain white panties, hugging her hips and rising to an inch below her navel, was oddly sexy. So innocent. So … virginal.

A spike thrust through his heart.

What kind of idiot had he been to take her virginity? He’d hurt her … caused her to bleed. And, fuck, knowing how she felt about him, it was inevitable that she would believe it could lead to more. The emotional pain would be far more scarring than the physical.

“Let’s get some sleep, baby.”

He took her elbow and drew her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around him as he held her close, loving the feel of her soft, naked breasts cushioned against him.

He nuzzled her ear, then guided her to the bed. She climbed under the covers as he turned out the light, then he slid in beside her. She snuggled back against him and he wrapped his arms around her, then cupped one round breast in his hand.

“Goodnight,” he murmured.

*   *   *

Mason could feel Sylvie next to him in the darkness. Warm and soft against him.

But Sylvie knew better than to climb into his bed without permission. She slept on the couch in his room, waiting to serve at his pleasure. If she’d come into his bed, it was to entice him to punish her.

“Roll over,” he demanded.

The shadowy shape beside him rolled over. He slid his arm under her stomach and lifted her lower torso, then slid a pillow under her, raising her ass. He raised his hand and slapped her ass. She cried out. He slapped again.

“You aren’t allowed in my bed unless I invite you.”

“But—”

He smacked again, the cracking sound ringing through the room.

“I’m going to punish you and you will stay silent.”

He grabbed her long, dark hair and coiled it around his hand, then pulled it tight, drawing her head back from the pillow.

He leaned close to her ear. “Understand?”

She nodded.

“Good.”

He smacked her bottom again. Then again.

Sylvie liked to be slapped.

He stroked his hand over her round ass, then tugged her head up again and nibbled her earlobe.

“Do you want me to spank you harder?” He only asked to build her excitement. Sylvie always wanted him to spank her harder.

“No.”

Her plaintive tone caught him off guard.