Page 50 of Jealous Stepbrother
I hesitate, lips parting, a half-protest caught in my throat.
“Or I can put you there myself,” he adds, tilting his head, smiling slow.
I move, my heart hammering.
He prowls after me in silence, lifts and tosses me on his bed.
The moment I stop bouncing, he’s on me, ripping the flimsy barrier of my nightdress away and flinging it away.
Then he strips out of his sweats, his cock, veined and jutting, thick and aching for me.
Crawling up the bed, he brackets my hips with his knees, hands sliding under my thighs, lifting, spreading.
And then, without preamble or hesitation, he flips us over so I’m straddling him. “Ride me,” he rasps, voice shredded with hunger and command and his hands feral-tight at my waist.
My breath catches. “What?—”
“You heard me.” He strokes himself slow, teasing, eyes locked on mine. “Get on and fuck yourself on me. Unless you’d rather I keep doing all the work… Actually no, I think you’d like that too much.”
I move before I can think better of it, straddling him, the heat of his cock nudging against my entrance. His hands grip my hips, wickedly tight and unapologetically possessive.
“That’s it,” he rasps. “Take me. All of me.”
My throat goes dry and my thighs quake.
And yet, I move.
My nails dig into his shoulders as I lower onto his waiting, engorged cock, as he fills me, slow and deep and oh God, so tight and full and straddling the edge of pain, I can’t think for a second.
He doesn’t break eye contact.
The air between usis charged and filthy and perfect.
When I sink down, I bite back a screech as the first searing stretch steals the breath from my lungs.
His head tips back, a growl breaking free from his chest, but his furious, reverent gaze stays locked on me. “Look at you, riding your big brother’s cock,” he growls. “Took you four years to come back for more, princess. But now you’re addicted, aren’t you? A pretty little cum slut eager to be filled?”
I gasp, trembling and already delirious.
He drives up into me, relentless. “Answer me, Scarlett. Say it.”
“Yes—oh, God, yes?—”
His hand grips the back of my neck, pulling me down until our mouths crash together.
“This isn’t just sex,” he rasps against my lips. “This is me staking every damn claim I’ve ever wanted to make. And I’m never letting it go, you hear me?”
He’s so deep I can’t breathe. Every push of his hips drives heat through my belly and sparks along my spine, until I’m clinging to him just to stay upright.
“Ride me harder, Scarlett,” he orders, voice gone rough. “Not like you’re scared. Like you’ve been dying for this since the second you ran out four years ago.”
I want to deny it. Tell him he’s wrong. But my body betrays me, rolling my hips, chasing every inch of him.
“That’s it,” he groans thickly. “Look at you… your perfect tits bouncing, taking me like you were made for it. Like you know who you belong to.”
“I don’t?—”
His hand snaps to my jaw, holding me still. “You do. You always have. Now I can make you scream it so our parents come see who’s owning this pussy. Do you want that, or do you want to keep riding?”
