Richard

And then Gwennie threw her head back too, clutching my arms with her nails and crying out as she came again, this time around my pulsating cock.

I pressed one hand to her chest, breathing hard, feeling her heart beat tremulously beneath my palm. Her eyes were closed in bliss, her lips parted, and I gently brushed my own against them before I collapsed on top of her, burying my face into her shoulder.

What the hell was wrong with me? I almost felt like I should cry. There was something about being inside Gwendolyn like this that felt more like home than I’d ever experienced, something that made me feel like I belonged. It made me so… happy. So fulfilled.

What on earth had she done to me? Whatever it was, I wanted her to do it again.

I picked Gwendolyn up with her legs around me, clutching her to my chest. Then I kissed her again, holding her up high as if I wanted the world to see.

Maybe I did. But that could wait. First, there was the matter of finding her bedroom…

Chapter 9

I woke up feeling the best I had in ages, rested and relaxed, my troubles so far away that I could barely make them out on the horizon of my mind. At least until I remembered why I felt so good.

Oh, God! What have I done?

Last night had been possibly the best—no, definitely the best—sex I had ever had in my entire life, all of it with the man I’d dreamed of since I was a teenager. I bit my lip, swallowing hard as I felt the warmth of my stepbrother radiating from behind me as I lay on my side. I honestly couldn’t remember how many times we’d gone at one another, our bodies writhing and pulsating in time together. Just the memory of it had me shivering with the desire to have another round.

No! I chastised myself, trying to bring my focus back away to the way his cock felt so divine inside of me, his cool, metal piercing hitting at just the right spot to drive me to levels of pleasure that I had never felt in my entire life. But I knew that even though what I’d felt had been beyond words to describe, I knew that it could never happen again. What if we’d been caught? If some errant member of the paparazzi and just so happened to have been following Tristan’s date the night before with Patricia.

My mind buzzed with all the possible ways that this could blow up into an enormous disaster. I could already hear my mother’s screams of indignation if she were to discover what we’d done. I could only hope that by some miracle no one had seen anything through my windows. It had been late when Tristan had arrived and by that time hopefully any reporters had been satisfied by Patricia being ousted angrily from the limo.

“Good morning,” I heard from behind me and my entire body tensed, cursing the reminder that my indiscretion had indeed taken place I had not simply dreamed the whole thing. I’d been so frightened to turn over, to truly recognize Tristan’s presence that I’d resigned myself to simply avoid even looking at that portion of my bed for the rest of my days. “I trust you slept deeply.”

“Tristan” I began, my voice filled with tension. “Last night was a mistake.”

“A glorious mistake,” he chuckled, and I felt the strength of his arm sliding around my waist and pulling me closer to him. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a night like that in my life.”

“But it can’t happen again,” I said, my heart fluttering as I felt his morning erection pressed against my back. Oh how I longed to feel him inside of me again, but knew more than anything that I ought to simply make him leave. “What we did was wrong. You’re my brother.”

“Stepbrother, Gwennie,” he whispered, and for once I didn’t entirely hate that name. The way he said it made my entire body shudder. “We’re not really related and I know that you don’t really have much of a care.”

“Tristan, I—”

He pressed a finger to my lips gently, halting my thoughts as he turned me over and pressed his lips softly to mine. I felt like I was floating on a cloud, fireworks bursting behind my eyelids as my entire body relaxed.

“We can’t do this,” I repeated, my eyes shut tight against the sensation of his hands sliding across my body.

“I think speaking is the last thing either of us need to do right now,” he whispered softly as I gave a surprised gasp, his rough hands cupping my breast, his thumb brushing across my pert little nipples.

My entire body shuddered, feeling my hips squirm back against his body of their own accord. I loved the way he touched me, how alive it made me feel. Every caress was like a drug in my veins, spreading its effects from fingertip to the ends of my toes. It was so hard to resist those exploring hands as they made their way between my thighs.

After last night and the dreams that promptly followed, my pussy was soaked and more than ready for a second round with my stepbrother. Just the thought of that piercing sliding inside of me made me squirm, recalling the way that it so perfectly rammed against my spot. I’d almost came from that feeling alone, my body writhing as I recalled the way my climax had overwhelmed me.

“I think it’s time we had another go,” Tristan whispered into my ear before slipping those soft lips against my own in a slow, steady kiss. I was in absolutely no place to argue whatsoever, and my body made it clear whose side it was on as I involuntarily moaned in pleasure.

Still, I had to make an effort. “You know we can’t. We’ve already crossed a line. If we go there again, things will get… complicated. I love what you do to me, Tristan, but we can’t continue on like this. Not if we want to make it out unscathed. Not if you’re going to get…” I swallowed thickly and averted my gaze so he couldn’t see the wet sheen in my eyes. I’d scared him off like that once before, back when I was a stupid girl who believed we could be together in a way that meant more than physical bliss. “…married.”

“Where does that leave us, then?” he asked me, propping himself up on one elbow, his eyes searching my face. “I’ll leave it up to you this time, Gwennie. Do you want to go, or stay? Whatever you choose, I’ll protect your reputation. Keep you safe from any of the fallout, should it ever come to that. But I want you to choose. Go, or stay?”

I wet my lips. They were suddenly dry, cracking. My mouth was parched. I knew Tristan’s kiss would sate it, quench the deep thirst rising up inside of me.

But I didn’t know the answer to his question. Go, or stay?

My stepbrother was trouble. Clearly. Always had been. Maybe always would be. He had a knack for making a mess of things, but that was, in some sick way, part of his charm. He was so careless, yet his touch was so gentle. He was so arrogant, so damn cocky, and yet now here he was humbling himself to me, letting me choose.

Letting him go would rid myself of a complication I didn’t need, one of the biggest ones there was. Letting him go would be playing it safe, would ensure that I didn’t get tangled up in my heartstrings again, that I didn’t fall head over heels for a man I could never, ever have, except in secret.

But staying with him would be paradise. At least, for my body. And maybe I could pretend that there was something more there, that we had a future together, until we didn’t. Until it came time to accept that I was never going to be the woman to tame Tristan Wolfe.

And then what? A mental breakdown? Would I become the wino cat-lady, the newest incarnation of all women spurned by their true loves who had come before me? Weren’t there enough of those in the world already?

Either way, it seemed this couldn’t end well. When taken to their natural conclusions, neither option seemed appealing. But maybe, somehow, despite all evidence to the contrary, there was a third in there somewhere. My heart leapt at the prospect. I wanted there to be. I wanted a version of me and Tristan that worked out okay, a version I could talk about with our grandkids someday.

I wanted it all. Him. Us. A future worth having. But was it in the cards?

Tristan grazed his thumb across my lower lip. “Go, or stay?”

“Tristan,” I whispered, pulling back. He pursued me, moving with me, his body lithe and powerful against mine, so warm beneath these soft sheets.

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“Tell me you want to go, Gwennie,” he murmured, the words oozing from his mouth like hot molasses. “Tell me you want to leave, and I’ll let you.”

I couldn’t. But I moved back again. And again, Tristan moved with me. There was no escape. My pulse was pounding. My sex was burning. My thighs ached to spread.

“Tell me no,” he said as I teetered on the edge of the bed. “Tell me no, Gwennie, and I’ll stop. For good. Once and for all.”

I stared at him helplessly. I couldn’t say no. I didn’t want to.