Stepbrother's Secret

“Yes. Yes!”

“Goddamn. How am I going to keep my cock out of you for five minutes?” I rock into her roughly. Too rough for a virgin, surely, but she’s mewling, moaning, urging me on with lifts of her hips. “It’s so tight. Such a sweet, slutty little girl. All for me. Only for me.”

I’ve never said words, foul words, to anyone in my life.

Cate needs them, though. Wants them.

She claws me hungrily, enticing me to kiss her—and I do, our tongues battling for entry into each other’s mouths. “Call me that again,” she sobs against my lips, eyes dazed, drunk on pleasure. “S-slutty little girl.”

Oh my God. Magnificent creature.

Already she has no boundaries.

Her trust in me is breathtaking, too. She tells me her needs, her wants, with no hesitation, and I want to reward that impulse. Water it and watch it blossom.

She deserves everything and I’m going to provide.

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?” I breathe into her neck. “Spreading your thighs open for your stepbrother. Tempting me out of my mind.” She’s as pure as the driven snow, but it doesn’t matter. Her needs—now our needs—do. I grasp her jaw hard and bite down on the flesh beneath her ear, fucking into her crudely. “Shameful, slutty little girl.”

Her orgasm is an explosion.

A jagged intake of air is my own warning before she bucks beneath me, her cunt bearing down and milking, milking, milking my shaft, forcing a bellow out of my throat. The pressure around my cock is so exquisite, so torturous, I see nothing. Hear nothing but her cries, thrusting blindly at the source of my pleasure. My obsession. Come burns up the stalk of my sex, filling her like a flood and she’s greedy for it, turning her head and sinking her teeth into my forearm, screaming in her throat, her body clenching violently, muscles spasming.

She wrings me out with her tight body, finally going limp, all flushed, dewy skin and dazed eyes. And just like that, she’s back to being the innocent fairy from the glen, peeking up at me to measure my reaction.

“Cate, my Cate,” I pant, teasing her tongue into a kiss. Rolling us slowly so she’s up against my chest, her naked body twined with mine, sweat drying on our skin and the molested sheets around us. “You’re incredible. And you’re mine. Always.” I tip her chin up, getting lost in the blue of her eyes. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” she breathes, resting her cheek on my chest. “Always.”

For the moment, I allow myself to relax.

Because I know I’ll need all of my mental strength for the battle ahead.

Starting tomorrow when everyone else discovers my angel.

When my angel discovers the world beyond…

And all I can ever offer her is secrecy.

Will it be enough?

8

Cate

I’m sitting on the balcony looking up at the stars, thinking about my fireflies, when my phone rings. It startles me, the trilling high notes shooting me to my feet.

When I see the little device dancing around on my coffee table inside, my shoulders relax. I’m never going to get used to having a cell phone. Mama realized pretty quickly that I was too intimidated to answer the thing, so she usually just shows up at the door. Does that mean it’s Tristan? If he’s calling me this late, is something wrong?

Tomorrow night is the big party. My formal introduction into upper crust Connecticut. After a day of dancing instruction, an etiquette lesson and yet another dress fitting, I’ve been instructed to get some beauty sleep. And I think that’s the problem. There’s too much pressure to fall asleep, so here I am. Thinking. Thinking about a lot of things.

Mainly my stepbrother.

What we did in that hotel room yesterday.

My nipples spike inside my tank top, aching so fiercely I have no choice but to reach up and rub them through the white cotton. I can’t seem to go five minutes without a hot flash of yearning tickling me in all the places he touched. I’ve always been curious about the human body and lovemaking, but I never knew it could be so consuming. That it could turn me into a different person. One who bites and scratches and begs. And likes to be called names.

Slutty little girl.

I make a breathless sound and walk back into the apartment, toward the ringing phone. Tristan’s name is right there on the screen, turning my knees to jelly. His voice is right on the other side. Lord, it’s only been a day since I’ve seen him and I miss that voice. Earlier tonight, he was on television, speaking to a man behind a desk. Hundreds of thousands of people were likely watching—but that’s not the same man who sweated atop me, cramming his thickness in to me over and over again. That wasn’t my Daddy.

I’m the only one who knows that man.