Stepbrother Inked(34)

It was like being cut off from the very air I needed to breathe.

I sighed as he tossed the fabric away, the champagne bottle still  clutched in the fingers of my right hand. We looked at each other again,  staring at one another, examining faces we'd already memorized a  million times over. I wondered what this was like for Flor, to look into  the face of a girl who wasn't a stranger and then kiss her. His most  serious relationships hadn't lasted a fraction of the time that we'd  known each other.

I said nothing and he did the same. I think we both knew that if we  talked too much, one or the other of us would ruin this. At this point, I  didn't know or care if this was just a taste of him, if he planned to  teach me a lesson by having sex with me and tossing me aside. I needed  to know, needed to feel him inside of me, feel his bare body against  mine. This was the way it needed to be.

Flor leaned back and removed his own shirt, revealing the beautiful  planes of his muscles and a body that I had admired from afar for too  long. In the back of my mind, I knew I was being a hypocritical bitch,  that I was betraying too many people with one single breath and a  handful of kisses that burned brighter than the sun. My dad, Flor's mom,  Max, Rhonda, even Addi. But I couldn't stop. If I really closed my eyes  and thought hard, this meant more to me than any of that.

Flor moved his mouth down, across the hollow of my throat and then along  the line of my bra, teasing the purple lace with his tongue. His right  hand stayed wrapped around my waist while his left lifted my wrist and  with it, the bottle of champagne. He took a drink with it still clutched  in my fingers and then pressed his mouth to mine. The bubbles shifted  between us as he kissed me, and I swallowed a mouthful of champagne,  letting Flor pull me tighter against him. Our bare bodies met and when I  looked down, I could see my tattoo gleaming in the last rays of  sunlight. He'd said the stag represented the transgressing of the taboo.  Was that what we were doing? Was his touch on my skin wrong? I didn't  even know the answer to that.

Flor's hand slid up and deftly unhooked the clasp of my bra, the lace  falling forward suddenly. I had a moment of sheer panic, dropping the  bottle as I struggled to clasp the fabric to my chest. Flor's going to  see my bare chest! It was almost surreal. I stared into Florian's face,  mesmerized by his half-hooded eyes and hungry expression, as the  champagne hit the roof and splashed all over our pants before rolling  down the shingles, drenching my discarded shirt as it went. It plummeted  into the backyard and crashed into my father's perfectly kempt lawn.  Flor and I ignored it while he worked to unhook my arms from around my  chest, reveal the fullness of my breasts to him. I'd seen him nude  dozens of times, but to my knowledge, he'd never once seen me.

I flushed from head to toe as he examined me with those bright green  eyes of his and then leaned forward, putting his mouth around my nipple.  My fingers grappled with his dark hair, twisting it around and pulling  it, tugging on those silky strands that I'd wanted to get my hands on  for so long. I crushed his face to my chest as he increased the pressure  of his mouth, sucking and biting and moving his way from one side to  the other. One thing could be said for all of Flor's years of practice:  he was good. Better than Max even, and I knew he was no amateur either.

I sighed, my breath carried away on the breeze as the evening grew  colder but I only grew hotter. Sweat beaded on my lower back and chest  as Flor continued to kiss his way across my skin, moving back towards my  neck, my jawline, my lips. We kissed again and the fervor between us  seemed to amplify, a low growl escaping his throat as a moan escaped  mine. I played with his lip rings, tasting the metal, tugging on them  with my teeth, just as I'd always wanted to. It was strange, surreal  even, to have a dream I'd wanted so hard for so long come true, but I  didn't have the capacity to examine it in that moment.

If this didn't last, I needed this memory fresh and clear and perfect.

"Flor," I whispered as he leaned back and ran his hand along the  waistband of my leggings, touching my skin, examining my tattoo. He  curled his fingers under the fabric and tugged it down, lower than he  needed to to see the entire piece. I felt my heart skip a beat, my  breath come ragged and broken. I closed my eyes and remembered the  sensation of his needle piercing my skin, his eyes on my body, his  fingers brushing my flesh. And then the memories became real and I  opened my eyes, finding Flor's gaze locked on mine again.                       
       
           



       

He reached up a gentle hand and brushed some of my hair back.

"Abigail." That was it, all he said, just a word. I leaned into him and  we kissed again, heat suffusing my chest, the ache between my legs  growing to an impossible crescendo. Before I even knew what was  happening, Flor was flipping us over, pushing me into the shingles of  the roof. My head was pillowed on the rumpled fabric of his shirt as he  looked down at me and then grabbed the waistband of my leggings once  again. Only this time, he wasn't just looking at his artwork on my skin.  This time, he was pulling the fabric over my hips, down my thighs, my  knees, and finally sliding it over my bare feet. The only thing left  between my complete nakedness and him was a pair of purple panties. He  stared at them for a moment, his jaw working like he was angry about  something and then he just shook his head.

I watched the muscle in his jaw work as he forced himself to relax.

Flor's mouth found mine again and then trailed down my belly, to the  pink and purple jewel pierced through my flesh, and he tugged on it with  his teeth, lighting up yet another erogenous zone I hadn't even known  I'd had. My belly, my hips, my thighs. Flor worked his magic up and down  my body, avoiding the one area I so desperately wanted him to touch.

When I finally sat up on my elbows and reached out to unbutton his  jeans, he took both my hands in his and looked me straight in the face.  It was that look that made me realize that no matter what had happened  before or what might happen after, that he loved me, just as much if not  more than I loved him. I thought of his paintings suddenly, of his  tattoos, of how familiar those girls looked, and I came to the  realization that what I'd seen in all of their faces, in their poses and  smiles, each of them had just a little bit of me. Flor had been  painting me, whether he meant to or not.

He released me, sliding his fingers up my arms, and sat back, letting me  unbutton his jeans and push them down his hips. Oh my God, Florian  Harper Riley. When did this happen? I opened my mouth to say something,  to tell him how shocked I was or ask if it would hurt, when he leaned  over and breathed warm breath across my cheek.

"You always wondered," he told me with that arrogant smirk growing on his face. "And now you know."

"I knew you didn't wear underwear," I told him, referencing a specific  incident when I'd walked in on him in the bathroom and found him pushing  his pants down his hips. I'd only gotten a shot of bare ass, but that'd  been enough to make me squirm for weeks. "But I  …  "

"Had no idea exactly what my complete catalogue of body art contained?" I  flushed and nodded, too embarrassed to say anything else. Yes, witty  exchanges were our thing, bickering was our thing, but this was a whole  new animal for me.

Flor had pierced junk.

Holy crap.

I took a deep breath and tried to still my hammering heart. Flor didn't  just have one ring, but a few. I didn't know what to call any of them,  but there they were, metal gleaming on the tip of his cock and even on  his balls. I swallowed hard, my gaze drawn to the long length of him,  the gentle curve of his dick. I wasn't an expert on length or anything,  but I knew he was bigger than Max. Seven inches maybe?

I glanced away again and Flor leaned forward, kissing the side of my  neck, brushing my hair back from my face. One arm circled around me and  pulled me down to the roof while he settled himself on top of me. His  fingers found my panties and stroked along the fabric, forcing me to  bite my lip to keep from crying out. My clit was hard beneath his  fingers and I knew I was already wet, completely soaked through. Just  looking at him was usually enough to get me there.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight and reveled in the feel of him pulling the  fabric down, revealing my entire body to him in one smooth motion. He  continued downward, letting my body weight rest on the roof as he moved  back and tossed the panties aside. I opened my eyes suddenly and found  them tumbling over the edge to the yard, just like the champagne bottle.

I didn't have a chance to protest because Flor was back, pressing the  heat of his body against mine. I could feel him hard and ready at my  opening, as desperate for me as I was for him. I bit my lip so hard it  bled, looked up into his face and rested my palms on his cheeks.