Stepbrother Unsealed(41)

I know I'm losing my mind when I want to feel his come inside me.

Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me? Maybe I really did lose my mind yesterday, and sex is my way of dealing with the terror.

I have to listen to reason. We can keep having fun, but we can't go too far...right? And if we do, I might not be able to stop wanting him.

Later, when we towel ourselves off and throw on our robes, heading out on the awesome balcony for our morning coffee, I realize I'm already in too deep.

He had me from the very first kiss. Mine is just a highlight, an afterthought, a reminder that there's no earthly way we'll ever share the same room with a quiet heart and dry panties.

I'm scared. I don't know how I'll ever find my way back to normal.





VIII: Under the Skin (Chris)


By day five, I don't know what the fuck's happening to me.

I'm spending every waking minute deep inside Delia. My dick's been everywhere by now, but it still feels like we've barely begun to explore. I've been in her hot little lips, wedged between her tits, shoved balls deep in her slick, perfect cunt, fucking her every way I know how, plus some ways I invent.

It's ludicrous.

I've never fucked the same woman for a full week straight in my entire life. Chris Cleveland doesn't do that shit. I get my dick wet, makes my girls happy, and then forget, disappearing every time duty calls.

Except this time it's not so simple. It's like she's crawled inside my skull and hot-wired my brain. I've fucked her a couple dozen times, and I still want more. I can't get enough.

She can barely get me to leave the hotel to take her out on the town. It's not just because my dick never wants to rest. When we're out, my hands are always on her, holding her on my lap by the waist, or guiding her through the casinos and down the strip with my hand wrapped tight around hers.

She's never getting out of my sight in this city again. We have our fun, sure.

But having her like this only makes me rage even more about the men who almost took her away from me, pulled her into the darkness forever. I want to head back to that abandoned theater, douse their rotten bodies in gasoline, and torch them 'til they're ashes.

Of course, I'm not an idiot, and I won't attract attention to myself. I keep scanning the local news, but nobody's found their carcasses yet. Or if they did, it was such a non-incident there'll be nothing more than a footnote about two unidentified bodies in the Vegas police blotter.

Our last full evening out, I take her to this fancy French place. Aside from the hotel, I use all my own money. I won't take shit from her father, no matter how nice he is.

I'll never be blue blooded rich, and I'll never be able to comprehend her fancy world. But when I'm dressed up in a nice vest and she's in her hot red dress, staring up at me over the spotless table over wine, I don't fucking care.

My body reacts to hers at some caveman level I can't wrap my head around. Fuck it, I don't need to. All I know is I want her coiled around my dick twenty-four seven, legs spread, digging her nails deep into my flesh 'til I pump every drop of come I've got into her womb.

I want to lose the rubber and sew her deep. I want to fuck her 'til she comes on command, sucking at my mouth like it's precious oxygen after she's been underwater. I want to feel her pussy clenching on my cock all fucking night, digging my fingers into her ass as she rides me, growling 'til my thunder matches her pulse, bending her to me forever.

“It's been quite a week, hasn't it?” she asks shyly, twirling the burgundy in her glass.#p#分页标题#e#

“Yeah, and we're damned lucky we got it too. The commander called me up last night, told me needs me back at base the day after we land. Duty calls, babe.”

“You really take it seriously, don't you? I didn't realize until I had a chance to see your tattoos. I mean, really look at them.”

Her eyes dance mischievously for me. Last night, I finally gave myself a breather after we exploded at least three times. She laid on my chest, running her fingers over each and every patch of ink on my skin.

I told her about the trident on my flesh, and even the three black triangles on my left bicep. They're the newest on my skin, one for each man on our team who died in Kirkuk. I wouldn't say how or where, but I cracked and told her it was for them, something I never thought I'd tell anybody who's not a SEAL.

Certainly not my hot, sweet, and infuriating stepsister. Yeah, the same one I need to stop fucking in about twenty-four hours, when we leave the paradise we've created here for the bland hell back in California.

“You know what I said – my ink, my life. I don't hide behind walls, Delia. You know exactly who I am.”

“Do I?” She quirks an eyebrow and shakes her head. “I saw what it means to be a SEAL the first night we were here. But there's a lot I don't know, Chris.”