Infatuation: A Rebel Stepbrother Romance (7 page)

Six fucking years to get back inside Ella. I’m not fucking around when I explain she’s not leaving me again. I’ll make her understand, even if I have to keep her tied to my bed for another six years.

Her pussy responds beautifully to me, squeezing the fuck out of the one finger I slide in. Wet sounds surrounds us when I work in another finger. “So tight, Ella. How am I ever going to fit my cock in there?” I tease her.

She laughs and reaches down to squeeze my dick. With my free hand, I remove hers. “Not yet.”

Slowly, I remove my fingers, gliding up to circle her clit again. Gentle swipes, each time moving a little closer to her sensitive nub. I can be a sadistic bastard when I want to be. I won’t give her what she wants until she begs for it, and even then I plan to take my time.

If someone interrupts us tonight, I swear to fuck, they’re getting tossed out the window.

I give her a little more until she whimpers, then I withdraw, making her want it, then denying her. Only when she screams for mercy or admits she’s mine, will I allow her release. Not before.

Her explosion will be that much sweeter.

Holding myself back isn’t an option. I lean in and take a taste, scraping my teeth over her nipples—first one, then the other, sucking them into my mouth and teasing with my tongue. Her hands plow into my hair, grabbing and holding. My little Ella’s strong, but the tugging sensation only gets me harder.

Easily, I capture her by the wrists and pin her to the mattress. She squirms under me.

“Please.”

There it is.

She moans in frustration when I let go of her breast.

“Please, what?”

“I, uh, uh.” Her eyes close, and her head rolls to the side.

“Say it. Tell me what you need, Ella.”

“Please,” she cries out in frustration.

“Say it,” I growl against her throat.

She whimpers. “I’m so close.”

“Close to what?”

“Coming. Please make me come.”

Perfect. Fucking beautiful. Exactly what I needed to hear.

“This is what happens next, Ella. You’ll come on my hand.” I pump my fingers in her a little harder to emphasize my point. “Hear how wet you are?”

She scrunches her nose, as if the details of what we’re in the middle of embarrass her. Too fucking bad.

“Tell me.”

“Yes.”

“After that, I’m kissing my way down your body, then shoving my face against that perfect cunt of yours.”

She moans, either at the filthy words or the way I’m steadily working in and out of her with my fingers—doesn’t really matter which.

“I’m going to lick you until you come on my tongue. Do you remember the first time I did that for you?”

“God, yes.”

“Then I’m going to finally slide inside you and when I say so, you’re going to come on my dick.”

“I can’t.”

“Oh, yes you can. Are we clear?”

She babbles out a lot of high-pitched, nonsensical words. Close enough to
yes
for me.

I loosen my hold on her wrists and grip her face, turning her so she meets my eyes. “Come,” I order.

She tries to maintain eye contact for as long as possible. But in the end, at that moment where my thumb slides over her clit one last time, her eyes roll back in her head, her mouth opens, and her back arches. A strangled, broken cry escapes her lips.

It’s perfect. Just like her.

Chapter Nine

“Oh my God, Flynn. I can’t. No more.” My pleas fall on deaf ears as he kisses and sucks a trail down my body.

His head tips up. “Look at me. What did I say?”

“I know, but—”

“No buts. Fingers. Tongue. Cock. One down, two to go, sweet stuff.”

Shit. I don’t remember him being so bossy. If he spoke to me this way anywhere else, I’d probably smack him. For a second, my temper flares green and hot. Who’s he been practicing with these last six years?

Even as fumbling teenagers, he’d been good. But this, who he is today . . . what he’s doing to me right now? A whole new level.

Carefully, he hooks his fingers in the elastic of my sensible undies and drags them down my legs. That simple act unleashes a rush of arousal.

My mind blanks as his hands grip my thighs, shoving them wide. At first I struggle. It’s embarrassing to have him staring at me like this.

“No, Ella. Mine. Every beautiful inch of you is mine. No hiding.”

His head dips, and I shriek at the first lick, still sensitive from the sweet torture of his fingers. His tongue sweeps over me again, lighter this time.

Slowly, he works me back up until I have no choice but to come again.

“That’s two,” he says with a glistening smirk.

“I can’t take any more.”

“Too bad.”

He kisses his way up my body until he’s looming over me.

“Flynn, I can’t even. You’re so . . . beautiful.”

The stupid compliment seems to please him. “Not as beautiful as you.”

His lips find mine as he lowers himself over my body. “Taste yourself on me,” he whispers, and I nod.

Somewhere down there, he lost his boxer briefs, so the hard, hot length of him presses against my thighs. My legs part, and he settles between them. His mouth goes to my throat, softly kissing and sucking. He grinds against me, teasing me with only a bit of friction from his bare cock.

“Flynn? Condom?”

“Yes, Ella.” He reaches out to the night stand and tugs the drawer open. After a brief search, he pulls out his prize and rips it open.

“Did you? Were you planning—”

“Planning to fuck you this weekend? It crossed my mind,” he says without a hint of shame as he slips the latex over his impressive size.

The ache between my legs grows to an unbearable pressure. I need him to relocate about an inch lower and bury himself inside me.

I had a few relationships in college. A few awkward, fumbling hook-ups. No one who lasted more than a couple months. They couldn’t, because I’d given my heart, soul and virginity to my stepbrother at sixteen, and no one else would ever measure up.

He brushes the head of his cock between my lips, watching for my reaction. My breath stutters. The teasing has gone on too long. The fierce, possessive fire in his eyes intensifies my need while also terrifying me. He knows exactly what I want, but he’s still determined to make me beg for it.

“What do you want, Ella?” he rasps out, his hot breath racing over my cheek.

“You.”

“What do you want me to do?” he asks as he presses the head of his cock to my wet opening. My eyes close, but he grips my face until I meet his gaze. The intensity of his stare demands an answer.

But dragging this out also excites me, because I know when I finally get what we both want, it will be explosive.

He slides another inch in, and I inhale a sharp breath.

“Tell me, Ella,” he orders. His mouth grazes mine. “Tell me, or I’ll go finish myself off in the bathroom. Alone.”

“You wouldn’t,” I gasp.

“Try me.” He groans as he presses back inside, only far enough to make me crazy.

“You. Your cock. In me. Fuck me until I come.”

“Aw, Christ,” he groans as he thrusts hard, filling me to the hilt. “Fuck, Ella.”

My hands grasp at his shoulders, holding on as he withdraws and slams back into me hard enough to shove me up the bed. Next, a long, slow withdrawal and a torturous slide in. Long, lazy fucks that make me sob with relief.

Every thrust, every touch proves how right he is. I’m his. There’s no one else who owned my soul the way he did. My legs wrap around his powerful body, feet resting on his ass. He increases his pace, and the slick sounds of our bodies moving together no longer embarrasses me.

I’ve never been able to come this way. And after the two orgasms he’s already given me, I’m not expecting a third. But the heat slowly builds as he maintains his steady rhythm.

“Oh, Flynn. I’m so close,” I whisper, surprising myself.

He covers my mouth, kissing me deep and rough. My core pulses around him and my body tenses. I shake loose from our kiss to beg him. “Don’t stop.”

So close
. He braces his hands on either side of my head and goes at me full force. Quick, fast, forceful strokes. He’s determined to see me fall apart, and a few seconds later, I do. Pleasure rips through me and he continues to fuck me through my orgasm. His muscular hips keep pumping into me, and his face locks up as he groans through his own release. When our eyes meet again, his are no less wild than before. He takes my mouth in a long kiss as his hips slow their movements. He falls down over me, gathering me in his arms.

Our ragged breaths mingle and we stay tangled together for a few long minutes.

The electricity that still sizzles between us means something. He’s right—there’s no going back from here, but I don’t know how we can possibly move forward either.

Now that Ella understands her place in my life, I sleep like a rock. In the morning, I plan to fuck her all over again, but I find her side of the bed empty and cold.

“Hell, fucking no,” I mutter as I snap the blankets back and slide out of bed.

My chest is tight with the thought that she got spooked and ran.

But no, I find her in the bathroom. She squeals when I walk in without knocking. “Get out of here,” she yelps.

My laughter makes her fling a wet washcloth at me and I duck out the door, laughing harder at the dull thump against the other side of the door.

A few seconds later, she flings the door open. “I see you still haven’t learned any manners,” she huffs as she slides past me.

When I return to the bedroom, she’s dressed. Not what I was hoping for at all.

“Um?” I gesture to her outfit and she raises an eyebrow.

“Brunch? With the bride and groom? We need to be downstairs in ten minutes.”

“Fuck me.” I’d completely forgotten.

Her lips curve into a sly smile. “Already did.”

Playful Ella—love it. I dive at her, tackling her so we both land on the bed. She squirms away, giggling the entire time. “Ugh. Do you remember how you used to hold me down and tickle the crap out of me? I used to hate you.”

Here feels like a good time for a confession. “I did that because I wanted to fuck you, I just didn’t understand it at the time.”

Her jaw drops and she stares at me for a second. “Now that you mention it, my panties were always soaked and I never knew why.”

The soft expression on her face and her honesty makes me lean in and take a kiss. When I pull back, she runs her hand over my cheek. “This is weird, isn’t it? Having these shared memories of growing up together? It’s what makes this wrong.”

I think she’s asking rather than telling me. “I don’t know. We weren’t raised together. I mean, we met at thirteen when we—”

“Were raging with hormones, so we imprinted on each other?” she offers.

Harsh laughter comes from the back of my throat. “I guess. That was infatuation. I thought you were the most perfect girl in the world.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” I pick up a section of her long, blonde hair and run it over my hand. “I think this got my attention first, but who you are
kept
my attention.”

“Who am I? A college grad who can’t find a job? A part-time makeup artist.”

“You’re the girl who stole my heart at thirteen and never gave it back.”

“Flynn—”

“I’m serious.” My knuckles run over her cheek. “I’m proud as hell of you, Ella.”

She seems to mull that over.

And of course, someone knocks on our door.

“This is getting fucking ridiculous,” I grumble as I get up and answer it. “Stu, what a surprise.”

My buddy grins, ignoring my sarcasm, and steps inside without being invited. “You guys coming to brunch?”

“Yeah, we’ll be down in a few.”

Ella’s settles her hand on my arm. “Actually, I’m going to head down now.” She turns to Stu. “Is Summer down there or in her room?”

“Room.”

“See you guys down there.” It sucks watching her leave.

“Why’re you here?” I ask Stu.

He shrugs. “Just checking in on two of my favorite people.” He eyes my semi-undressed state. “Get dressed. I’m starving. Summer put me through my paces last night.”