Protect & Serve(75)

Her face flushed with color, turning it away to hide what I knew was a smile from me. Though as I pressed my body against hers, it was a gasp that escaped her lips, short and high-pitched like a mouse. I adored that gasp more than she could understand. It brought back all the memories I had of my playful, lusty games that all led up to that night.

“That offer’s still open,” I whispered into her ear. “The one I made to you all those years ago. All you have to do is take it.”

“We can’t,” she whimpered. God, we really were replaying that night, weren’t we?

Only this time, I wasn’t going to make the same mistake. I wasn’t going to let her use our reputations as an excuse. I wasn’t going to take “we can’t” for an answer—not when everything she did, from the way she looked at me to the way her body sang in my arms, told me she wanted to. That we could.

Hell, that we ought to.

“Come on, Gwennie. We’re alone. No one’s going to see. Your mum isn’t going to walk in at any moment and ruin the fun, and she never has to know. Nor does my father. We’re not teenagers anymore.”

“I thought you said we were adults back then, Tristan,” Gwendolyn murmured, squirming as I slid my prick up against her, forcing her to understand the weight of what she did to me. Her body grinding against it, however involuntarily, wrested a low groan from my throat.

“We were. Just inexperienced ones. Even me.” I chuckled, thinking of how I’d been convinced I was some kind of Don Juan who knew everything there was to know about sex and women. Growing up a bit had taught me I was wrong, that I had so much to learn. And I’d been a good student. Now it was time for me to ace the ultimate test: bedding my stepsister once and for all.

“Are you still a virgin?” I asked her.

Gwendolyn flushed so red I was sure she’d say yes. But she surprised me. “N-not exactly…”

I grinned. “No need to be embarrassed, love. That just means I don’t have to take it slow.”

I reached over, giving her plenty of time to stop me. But she didn’t, and so I pulled away the neckline of her robe, exposing the tops of her incredible tits.

She sucked in a breath, making them jump. “Tristan… what are you doing?”

I pushed the fabric down over her shoulders. Still, she didn’t stop me. Her breasts shuddered. Her flesh pricked with goosebumps. “Tristan, I… We’ve been over this before… What if someone hears? Or sees?”

It was an excuse. A stupid, flimsy excuse. She didn’t mean it. I could tell.

I undid the belt on her robe. Then I pushed it away, down onto the floor. Gwendolyn was naked in front of me except for that silly towel turban in her hair, and I yanked it away, letting her red locks spill over her neck and shoulders.

Before she could say my name again I kissed her, covering her mouth with mine, engulfing it, consuming it. I drew her against me, against the hardness straining against my slacks. When she moaned, I knew what I had to do.

I had to take her.

With one sweep of my arm, I cleared one end of her kitchen island, letting the plates she’d let gather there crash to the floor. Fuck it, I didn’t care if I destroyed her entire flat. I wanted Gwendolyn. I needed her. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I would’ve destroyed the entire city if it meant I’d get to finally have her.

I grabbed her tiny waist and plopped her down on the edge of the island, sinking my teeth into her lip until she gasped. I needed to hear her moan again. I needed to hear those breath-stealing sounds she made, the ones that urged my cock into a frenzy. I needed to feel her shudder.

“I’m hungry,” I said, shoving her down on her back so I could spread her legs wide for me. She blushed and put her hand on mine as if to stop me, but one sharp look made her bite her lip and settle back, her entire body quaking.

“Don’t be shy,” I told her, pushing her thighs apart. “Not with me, Gwennie. You don’t ever have to hide from me.” Then I bent my head and puffed a hot breath over her labia, making her squeal. Now that was a sound I just had to hear again. I opened the lips of her pussy and dove in with my tongue.

“Fuck!” Gwendolyn breathed, as if this entire time she’d thought I’d pull away, like maybe this moment wouldn’t happen, after all. She dug her manicured nails into my hair. “Tristan!”

Oh, God, Gwendolyn’s pussy was incredible. It was pure ambrosia, even sweeter than I had imagined it being. I lapped up her lust and musk, thrashing my tongue against her nub, making her beg and cry and arch up off the kitchen island while I thrust my fingers inside of her.