PULSE: A Stepbrother Romance (29 page)

“Then what?” she asked me again. She
didn’t move. Not an inch. I could feel blood rush through me, but it wasn’t
going to my head. It was going far, far away from it, to places that would be
bad for the both of us. “Tell me, Preston. What the hell are you going to do if
I don’t stop calling you on your bullshit?”

She was searching me again. I could feel
it. The way her eyes bored into mine prickled my skin. It seared my soul. She
wanted the truth from me, a different kind of truth from the one I was used to
telling. She wanted the kind of truth a man wasn’t likely to give, the kind
that made him have to crack his ribs and bare his own heart for scrutiny. Was
this how it was supposed to feel? Was this how being with a woman was supposed
to be? Was it supposed to hurt like this, in a way that made every ounce of
that pain worth it?

No wonder it had never worked with
anyone else. If this was how it was supposed to be, and it sure as hell felt
like it was, then Madison Hearst was the first woman in my entire life with
whom things felt tragically, undeniably right.

I didn’t have an answer for Maddy. Not
the way she wanted. Not with words and thoughts. Not with anything but a primal
force that took me by surprise as much as it took her.

I grabbed my soon-to-be stepsister, one
hand tangled in the sleek waves of her gorgeous brown hair, and I kissed her.
God help me, I kissed her with passion and fury. And I loved it...

MADISON

Oh,
fuck.

Those were the only words that came to
mind when Preston kissed me, the only words I could possibly form and hold onto
long enough to give them meaning and weight. But what
did
they mean? Was I disgusted with him, my stepbrother for all
intents and purposes, for the sweltering sweetness of his mouth on mine? Was I
angry that he’d dared to touch me like this, or angry that he hadn’t done it
sooner?

I clenched my hands into fists at my
sides. I didn’t know what I wanted them to do. Or at least, I wasn’t sure if I
wanted to admit it.

Preston’s lips were scorching hot on my
own. His breath was like smoke filling my lungs, only it didn’t burn. It warmed
me, but in places far below my chest, places that had begun to ache for more of
Preston’s illicit touch.

I wanted to fight it. I wanted to fight
him and this dark, forbidden desire lurking inside of me, the one that had been
there since that first day I’d run into him on the sidewalk. I wanted to forget
the cerulean flash of his eyes, his lopsided grin, the golden haze of his tawny
hair. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.

Instead, I kissed him back.

I slipped my arms up around his neck,
holding onto him tightly as he lifted me against his broad, brawny frame,
clutching at my back as if he’d always wanted to do this. My ass was in his
hands, and I felt him squeeze and dig in his fingertips all along my thighs,
then back up again, roaming my body with his fierce touch. A soft wind blew in
through the open balcony doors, carrying away the husky moan from my throat as
Preston’s lips crashed against mine again and again, promising retribution for
every hateful word I’d said.

I’d been disappointed in him. I’d
thought he was different from his father, from the money that had corrupted the
rest of our family. Had I been wrong?

I didn’t have time to think about it
now—not when my stepbrother was dropping me onto the bed on my back and
pulling my casual Friday jeans down my legs.

I whimpered, struggling up onto my hands
to watch him as he yanked my ass to the very edge of the bed, then over it.
With my legs suspended on his shoulders, he grasped my panties and pulled,
ripping them off my hips and exposing my sweet, shaven pussy to feast his eyes
on.

“Preston,” I whispered. “This is… wrong.
We’re family. We can’t do this…”

I felt like I’d betrayed everything
inside of me to say those words, and Preston didn’t even hear them. He was
focused. He had seen what he wanted. And now he was going to get it.

He traced his fingers along my nether
lips before spreading them wide and revealing the pink petals between. I could
feel my clit throbbing in its hood, begging for the attention he’d already paid
to my mouth and outer lips. He bent his head forward, delivering one long lick
from my chasm to my crest, and I melted beneath him. Any resolve I’d once had
to at least question the idea of fucking my stepbrother dissolved with one
touch of his tongue, and I moaned for him again as he dove in and began to
flick it against my aching button.

I wailed, burying my fingers in
Preston’s hair, pulling at it as he lapped hungrily at the nectar flooding from
between my thighs. I was feverish, shaking, convulsing, shrieking and rolling
my eyes into my skull as he pleased me. I was sick, and Preston was the only
cure.

He hauled my hips closer to his face,
bringing me tight against his mouth as he sucked gently, his tongue still
undulating hard and fast against my throbbing clit. I felt my nipples stiffen
against the cups of my bra and pulled my blouse up over my head, letting him
see how hard my breasts heaved for him.

“Preston,” I whimpered, “please…”

“That’s right,” he praised me, torturing
my nubbin with his thumb. “I’m the one in control here, Maddy. I’m your boss.
You do what I say, whether you like it or not. Is that clear?”

I squirmed uncontrollably under his
touch. He laved me again, making me arch up off of his bed.

“Is it?” he asked me.

“Yes!” I answered, wriggling once more
into his face. “Oh, fuck, Preston! Please don’t stop!”

“No,” he said. “Not until we’re clear on
where you stand.” Then he turned me over so my ass was in the air, my knees
barely making it onto the bed before he was behind me, panting, ripping his
shirt off to reveal all those delicious muscles I’d secretly been craving for
weeks now.

His belt was next, his hands moving so
fast they seemed like a blur, and as I looked over my shoulder I saw the slick
mast of his manhood jutting out behind me. Its swollen tip was made even
angrier by the crimson sky outside, and the veins throbbing along the shaft
looked almost purple in that hot, violent hue.

I pushed against him, worried that if I
thought about what we were about to do for just a second more, I might lose my
nerve. But Preston was a step ahead of me. He’d already decided for us what
would happen next, and there was no way he was letting me off easy.

He seized my hips in his hands, digging
his fingers in hard enough to leave bruises where he touched, bruises I would
gaze at later and recall every detail of our tryst. They would remind me of my
stepbrother’s power, of his absolute authority in his house, and they would
remind me of my place and what running my mouth would do.

But if this was the punishment, then I
would run my mouth at every opportunity. Preston needed someone to challenge
him, and I needed him to fuck me in all the ways no man ever had.

When I felt his shaft breach me, I was
sure he’d split me in two. He was so thick and hard that I could feel him
stretching me, making way for the heft and might of his massive cock between
the tight walls of my poor, neglected cunt. I scrabbled at the sheets, clawing
at the silk, but couldn’t find purchase. I had nothing to hold onto as Preston
worked his way inside of me, nothing to ground me to reality as he filled me
with his cock.

“Oh, God…!”

Every moment after that was delirium.
Every thrust was sheer ecstasy, the sort no words could possibly describe.
Every touch burned me, scorched me, turned me to ash in his skillful hands, and
yet every other saw me rise from the ashes to be filled once again by his thrumming
cock. Preston was a wildfire raging over me, surging over the acres of my skin,
leaving no inch of me unviolated. I twisted and arched, howled and writhed,
pulled at my hair and shouted his name in ways I never thought I would.

“Fuck me, Preston! Harder!
Harder!
”

He obeyed me until the only sound I
could hear beyond my own blood rushing in my ears was the steady slapping of
his hips against my ass, the symphony of our bodies colliding and parting, only
to collide again with even greater force. I was a slave to the sensations
flowing through me, unable to think or feel anything else other than what
Preston inspired with the roughness of his hands, the guttural tone of his
growl, and the unrelenting force of his cock buried to the hilt inside me.

Preston reached down between my legs,
snaking an arm over my thigh to rub my clit again with his fingers. I could
barely keep up with his frenzied pace. The wave of my orgasm was already so
close to crashing over me, and I feared that it would sweep me away into an
oblivion I couldn’t possibly fathom.

“I’m cumming,” I whined, spreading my
legs even wider for Preston’s girth. “Oh, shit—Preston! I’m cumming!”

He let out a low groan as I exploded. It
was like the universe was coming together, like the two of us alone had created
the sun and the stars. I wailed in rapture, throwing my head back and crying
out Preston’s name again and again. Everything inside of me that said I should
be ashamed was silenced in that moment. There was only me, Preston, and the undeniable
passion we shared.

My walls hitched and squeezed, drawing
tight around Preston’s cock. I felt him shudder behind me. He was close.

He pulled out of me and I turned,
somehow knowing what he wanted from me though he hadn’t spoken it. On my hands
and knees I crawled to him, watching him stroke his glistening shaft from root
to crown, each jerk of his hand more desperate than the last. I pushed his hand
away, engulfing his tip in my mouth, and felt him wind both hands through my
hair to pull it away from my face as I bobbed mercilessly on his shaft, urging
him into the back of my throat.

Preston let out a hiss through his
clenched teeth. It was all he could do not to thrust into me, to make me choke
on the enormity of his dick. I could smell his scent and mine mingling on his
base, could taste my own lust for him as I spun my tongue around his shaft. I’d
never known anything more delectable in my entire life than the way I tasted on
my stepbrother’s cock.

“Fuck,” he gritted, feeling his balls
tighten against my chin. I picked up the pace, rushing my brother toward
ecstasy, pulling him into my mouth again and again as he surged forward
suddenly and the first warm gush of his semen hit the back of my tongue.

I let my eyes flutter closed, slurping
and sucking as Preston drove himself into me, eager to let the rest of his
salty sweet load fountain down my throat. I held myself there as long as I
could, forgoing even my own breath to see my brother twist in pleasure before
me, knowing no other high so intense as seeing the look of bliss on his face.

As he settled I withdrew, the both of us
panting. He fell forward onto his hands, staring into my eyes as I sat up on
his bed, naked save for my bra. He brushed my hair from my face and kissed me,
crawling over top of me, pinning me beneath his weight in a way that made me
feel so safe, so secure, so
wanted
and
loved
.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he
whispered, his breath swirling like a sweet melody in the labyrinth of my ear.
“You have no idea, Maddy… No earthly clue…”

We fucked again, this time face to face,
this time with my breasts crushed in his hands as he looked into my eyes while
he took me. This time, there was no mistaking that I belonged to Preston
Harvey, the man who would become my stepbrother. I wasn’t just his personal
assistant… I was
all
his.

Morning was… different.

Neither of us had expected to pass out.
I could tell that much from the way we were still on top of the covers, the
summer breeze licking our dried sweat. I turned over beside Preston, making
sure that what I’d dreamt of had actually been real. There he was, flesh and
blood and muscle beside me. It was strange, but I didn’t know how to feel.

The passion we’d succumbed to last night
had been… intense. And it wasn’t like I hadn’t enjoyed myself. But now, in the
broad light of day, I couldn’t help but feel a creeping sense of shame. I was
waking up in bed next to my naked, spent stepbrother. Who does that?

Swallowing the conflict for now, I sat
up and looked around, trying to find a clock that could tell me the time. I’d
have to settle for Preston’s cell phone instead, but that was easier said than
done when I had no idea where he’d put it.

I crawled over his sleeping form,
reached over the end of the bed, and searched the pants he’d been wearing the
night before. As I looked at the crumpled heap, all I could think about was how
he’d dropped them in the heat of the moment, what it had felt like to endure
his twisting, tantalizing tongue…

I lifted his phone from his pocket. It
was seven a.m. The morning light must have woken us. At least we hadn’t slept
the whole day.

Just as I was raising back up, Preston
asked me, “What are you doing?”

I turned to look at him. He was awake,
though he hadn’t yet moved. He was looking at me strangely, probably in the
same way I’d looked at him when I’d woken up in his arms. Last night had been
incredible, but it had happened under the cover of darkness. Morning was an
entirely different animal, and it seemed neither of us knew precisely what to
do with it.

I decided to try to avoid it for now.
“Your phone,” I told him, holding it up. “I wanted to know what time it was.”

“It’s ringing,” he told me, and I looked
at it. Indeed, since I’d picked it up, his phone had received a call.

It wasn’t making any noise, though, and
it wasn’t vibrating. I looked over at him. “Do you want me to answer it?”

“No,” he said. He sat up, and I watched
his muscles coil under his skin like snakes winding their way through the
desert. “I’ll handle it.”

He moved past me down to the foot of the
bed, retrieving his Bluetooth earpiece and pushing it in. He plucked his phone
out of my hand, but didn’t look at me as he answered the call. “Hello?”

He was quiet for a moment, listening to
the other end. I pulled some of the sheets around me, shielding myself from his
view, though he didn’t even bother to look over. We had a lot to talk about,
that was for sure, but it seemed like neither of us felt like this was the time
or the place. Not while he was on the phone, at least.

“What time?” he said, startling me from
my thoughts. I tried to look at anything but the planes of his muscles as he
added, “Fine. We’ll be there.”

He hung up the call and looked at me,
taking his earpiece out again. “We’re having dinner tonight,” he said.

I frowned at him, watching as he got up
off the bed and walked to the dresser for a pair of underwear. “And why, pray
tell, do you need your personal assistant to come along? Is there a children’s
hospital to tear down?”

“Maddy…”

“Or maybe you could turn a city park
into a landfill?”

“Maddy!”

“I’m still angry with you Preston.” I
said firmly.

“You can stop now. Lets just say I’m
having second thoughts about the whole homeless shelter deal,” he replied.

“Because I talked you out of it, or are
you saying that because of what happened last night?” I asked, almost wishing
he wouldn’t answer.

Preston didn’t answer, the silence
biting as he was clearly trying to pick his words carefully.

“Well if it’s not some cutthroat
business deal with one of your rotten clients,” I asked, “what are we doing?
Who’d want to have dinner with the both of us?”

Preston slipped his boxer briefs over
his legs, pulling them up and letting the waistband snap around his hips. When
he looked at me, the smile on his face was strained. “Our parents.”

I felt my stomach plummet to my feet.
Never had two words devastated me in the way that these had.