“Just wishful thinking.”
He pulled me to the end of the couch, but I stopped him before he spread my legs. I slid to the floor and pushed him to sit instead.
“Oh, fuck, Shay.”
He didn’t have time to protest or ask for anything more. I hadn’t tasted his cock in weeks. There was only so much a girl could take, especially when he teased me with it every damn day.
His cock throbbed in my hand. I curled my fingers over it. They couldn’t touch over his shaft. A thin tease of arousal trickled from the tip. I greedily lapped it up, watching as Zach collapsed against the couch, hands behind his head. His cock twitched.
He tasted so good. Looked so good. Every muscle in his body tensed as my lips lowered over his cock. I drew him in deep, pumping with my hand to watch the quiver of his hardened abs with the teasing tug. He groaned as I swallowed as much of his length as I could, which wasn’t nearly enough. We both knew it. My body superheated at the thought of stuffing every last inch of him within me. He hardened even more.
My lips popped from the head. I lazily licked the underside, feeling the heat rushing through the most beautiful cock I had ever seen. He curled his fingers in my hair and drew me away.
“Got something better for you,” he said.
I believed him. The foil packet ripped open as I settled over his lap. He hadn’t expected me to get on top, but I didn’t trust him not to screw around. I needed him. I needed it. My body trembled with shivers so painful I feared I’d collapse on his chest and weep. He let me take control, repeating his profanity as I lowered myself onto his slick cock.
The head nudged at my entrance. I held my breath and wiggled.
Bigger than I remembered
So much bigger.
But absolutely perfect.
I sunk down and forced my body to take all of him in a single, deliberate, beautiful thrust. My gasp threaded into a shocked mew. Zach’s whisper was the same. His hands clutched at my hips, fingers digging into my skin too roughly. I didn’t care.
Nothing else mattered except the absolute filling of his cock. How I stretched. How I made room for the only man who ever stirred me to such a quick passion.
My hips bounced. Zach groaned.
I was lost.
His hard, pulsing thickness overwhelmed me. I rose up only to sink back down as quickly and deeply as I could. I clutched at his shoulders and collapsed upon the solid definition of his chest. He held me just as tightly. Rocked his hips to meet mine. Moaned the same words. Breathed the same panting relief.
I had denied him for too long, knowing full well exactly how it would end and how wrong it was and how much heartache it could create.
But now? Just for a moment—just for a perfect few minutes of beautiful agony, satisfaction, and comfort—I’d take him.
I forgot that he was my step-brother. I ignored the inheritance and will. I even remembered the day he first approached me. He admitted to realizing who I was only once he buried inside me, but who in their right mind would stop?
No one ever desired me that much. No one ever admitted to such attraction, such passion.
And I never felt the same for anyone else.
All I wanted was a quick romp, another mistake to regret in the morning.
I ground against him. Forced him deeper. Cried out his name. This was more than a mistake. I had no idea if I’d ever regret it.
My motions slowed. Zach refused to stop. He stood without pulling from me, balancing my weight against his waist and easily carrying me, completely impaled on his length. I gripped him tighter. He grinned, moving my hips in a feat of strength that nearly made me explode right then and there.
But he growled. It wasn’t enough for him.
Zach tossed me onto the couch, grabbed my ankles, and spread my legs. I hardly had time to whimper before his thickness sliced inside me once more. He leaned over my body, letting my hand run over the bulging muscles in his arms, chest. He sunk against me, stealing a kiss as he thrusted as deeply as he could stuff his cock.
Again and again he took me, bringing me to a brink of utter intensity. His thrusts slammed through me, and I eagerly arched to offer him more. My breath panted his name.
“Shay…come with me.”
The greatest words anyone ever spoke to me. I didn’t have to nod, think, or act. I was already there, coasting that fine line between pleasure and insanity. I gripped him, held him, welcomed him as he jerked his hips.
One solid pound was all he needed.
All I needed.
We broke together in a blended, perfect ecstasy. His kiss muffled my words, and that was good. I had no idea what I would say if he had let me speak, let me think the words, let me feel not only what stretched and pleasured and filled, but what warmed deeper in me.
I gripped his shoulders and pressed him harder against me. His cock wasn’t enough. His tongue circled mine. I crested with him over me, holding me, inside of me in ways only he could fill. My heart surged. My muscles rent.