His hands were strong on my hips. He slapped my ass, hard, definitely leaving a handprint. I groaned as he fucked me deep and rough, grunting his own pleasure. The savage fucking kept up as he grabbed my hair, grunting in my ear, his cock working deep and hard, our skin covered in sweat.
I knew he was close. I moaned for him, practically begging for his cum. His thrusts were deep and rough, filling me up.
Then I felt him stiffen behind me, grunting. "Fuck, Claire, your fucking pussy," he groaned as he came deep inside me.
"Come for me, Nate. Fill me up," I moaned in response, pleasure rolling through me.
His thrusts grew slower but still firm as he fired off every ounce of cum he had left.
Spent, we collapsed together onto the bed. I felt an incredible ache between my legs. I wanted to always feel that, the ache of Nate's big dick, the great ache of a job well done.
"Shit, girl," he said. "You really know how to take a dick."
I felt embarrassed, though I shouldn't have. "Thanks, I guess."
He laughed as he pulled off the condom. He wrapped it in tissues and tossed it into the trashcan. I watched him as he stretched, grinning at me. His tattoos dotted his body, and his muscles were incredible.
"Like the view?"
"It's okay."
He laughed and got back into bed, wrapping his arms around me. I felt tiny in his embrace.
"Don't pretend like you're not panting for it every time I'm around."
"How can you be so crude even after . . . that?"
"That? You mean even after fucking your inexperienced little pussy like a madman?"
"Yes," I said, blushing.
"That shit just makes me even more hungry for you."
I nuzzled myself against him and we fell silent, breathing deeply together and enjoying the post-orgasm buzz. Absently, I began to trace a little image that had been stuck in my mind for the last two days, though I wasn't sure why. The only thing I was really thinking about was how badly I wanted my stepbrother, and how fucked up that was.
After a minute of making the same image over and over, he grabbed my hand.
"What are you doing?" he asked suddenly.
I looked at him, surprised. "Uh, nothing. Sorry. I can stop if you don't like that."
His face softened. "No, that's not it. What are you drawing?"
I shrugged. "Just some image. A tattoo I saw on one of the guys Dad invited out on his boat."
He stared at me for a second, something confusing rolling across his face.
"What?" I asked.
"Hold on."
He climbed out of bed, still completely naked. It was like watching a panther climb down from a tree. He left the room as silent as a shadow, and I felt his absence palpably in the bed. But he was back moments later, holding a piece of paper.
"Was this it?" he asked, showing it to me.
Drawn on the paper was the exact tattoo I had seen on Joshua's arm, the same tattoo I had been tracing on Nate's skin.
"Yes, that's it."
I looked at him, totally confused.
His expression turned dark. "Do you remember their names?"
I nodded. "The one was Joshua, the one I was talking to. The other one was just called Al."
"Joshua," he grunted, looking away.
I sat up, slipping my shirt back on. "What's going on, Nate?"
He was dressing, too, and a second later his perfect body was covered up by his jeans and his T-shirt.
"Sorry, babe. I got to go."
"Where are you going? What does that tattoo mean?"
He looked at me with a frown. "Shit, I can't leave you here alone."
"Nate," I said forcefully. "What's going on?"
He stared at me again for another minute. That was his way; he seemed to always think about something before he said it. Sometimes that meant he was slow to respond, but he seemed to always say exactly what he wanted and what he meant. I envied that quality.
I didn't think he was going to speak again, and then finally he opened his mouth.
"That tattoo is the symbol of the Broken Hearts, the gang that's been targeting you."
I stared at him. "How do you know?"
"Pirates both had it. Guys that attacked earlier probably had it, too, but I didn't check. The other night I asked some locals about it, and one of them told me about the gang."
"But Joshua was so nice to me." I frowned. "I think he was even flirting."
Nate sat down on the bed and sighed. "He probably was. Frankly, they probably only agreed to go on the trip to get close to you. I'd be willing to bet that he or the other guy took pictures of you so that the other men could easily find you."
"That's crazy. What do they want with me?"
"I'm not sure yet. I'll talk to your father about it in the morning."
"He's not here, remember? He's in the city."
"Then I'll call him."
"I just don't understand. Why come after me?"
"Leverage."
"They think my dad will give them what they want if they have me."
Fear jolted through me as I realized that I was just a pawn to these people. They didn't care about me and would probably do anything just to get what they wanted.
"Exactly. And frankly, I'm sure that he would. He seems to really care about you."
I nodded, thinking it over.
"So now we know who they are," I said slowly. "What happens next?"
"First, I need to talk to your dad." He paused, and suddenly an intensity I'd never seen before took over his expression. It surprised me and almost made me physically recoil. "Then, I'm going to hunt the fuckers down and murder them one by one."
I gaped at him. "Nathan . . ."
He shook his head. "No more neutral observer bullshit, Claire. I'm deep in this thing now. And the best way to finish it is to take the fight right to them."
"What if I left? Ran away?"
"No. You're safest here with me."
I nodded, looking at him for a long time. "Let's get some rest," I said softly. "We can't get in touch with my dad until the morning, anyway."
He sighed and nodded. "I hate fucking waiting around, but you're right."
I slowly helped him undress again, noting the tension in his body. He was clearly angry, but he was doing his best to suppress his anger. It surprised me how much he seemed to care, and the lengths he was wiling to go to just to keep me safe.
Finally, we lay back down in the sheets, out bodies tangled together, my heart beating fast. I knew sleep was going to be hard to come by, but I also knew I was safe. I was safe with Nate, even if he was a dangerous killer. And my stepbrother.
And the man I wanted to fuck more than anything in the world.
16
NATHAN
It took all of my self-control not to get up out of that bed as soon as Claire fell asleep, get in my car, and hunt down that bastard Joshua. I only had a first name and my memory of his face, but that would have to be enough.
I knew the smarter play was to wait. So long as Claire was with me, she was safe. They clearly wanted her above all other things, and frankly I didn't give a shit about her dad's business one way or the other.
And so I slept, maybe just a few hours, but I did sleep. I woke up with the sunrise, got out of bed, and got dressed.
"Where are you going?" Claire asked, groggy.
"I'm going for a run."
"Okay. Have fun." She rolled back over.
"Claire, don't leave the house until I get back. Understand?"
She grunted at me, clearly annoyed that I was still talking to her. I smiled to myself and then turned and left. I knew the other guys her dad had hired to watch over him and Lucille would keep the house safe at least.
I hit the sand, running hard, my mind a mess of conflicting emotions. The night before had been intense, a wild and passionate fuck fest rivaling anything I'd ever experienced, but made even better by the fact of it being with Claire. On top of that, now I had a name, an adversary. I knew what my mission was and who my target was going to be. It was only a matter of time before her father got in touch with us and I got enough information to hunt the bastard down.
The real problem was what exactly I wanted from Claire. She was my stepsister, and she was a virgin, but she was fucking incredible in bed, and her body got me hard even while I was exercising. She'd somehow lodged herself into my brain, and I was beginning to realize that there was no turning back.
Still, there was the matter of her being my stepsister that we had to deal with. Personally, I couldn't have cared less about all that shit. What mistakes our parents made shouldn't have anything to do with us, and if they wanted to make each other miserable, then fine by me. But I wasn't going to live my life based on what stupid shit my pill-popping, drunk mother did.
As I began to head back toward the house, I realized that I needed to deal with one issue at a time. The most pressing thing was the danger from the Broken Hearts. My never-ending need to fuck my stepsister until she could barely walk would just have to wait.
As I walked into the house, sweating and slightly out of breath, I saw Jonathan sitting at the kitchen counter drinking a cup of coffee.