Hooked: A Stepbrother Romance (24 page)

“Jesus, Emilia,” he said with a long exhale, his hand reaching down to tenderly caress my hair as he relaxed, laying himself flat against the blanket. I allowed myself a small smile of victory as I felt all purpose leave Simon, allowing me to lavish attention on his magnificent cock without fear of distraction or interruption.

Immediately, I pressed myself down further, feeling the taut muscles of his chest and abs beneath my body as I took even more of him inside, inch by inch. When he arrived at the entrance to my throat, I paused for a moment and collected myself.

My heart was beating rapidly in my chest as I wondered if I could handle it, to continue down and swallow his entire length. Simon’s hand was still on my head, providing just enough pressure to be encouraging but not enough to force me to move. I could feel his heart beating just below my stomach, yearning for more.

Trembling, I withdrew just enough to allow myself a deep breath, and then plunged forward. Simon’s hips pushed up as I went down, sliding the fullness of his cock into my throat and cutting off my air. He let out a long, loud moan as he entered, his hand curling in my hair.

Feeling him so deep inside of me was a new experience, filling a part of my body that no man had ever touched before. I purred lustily, recognizing that our mutual desire had driven me to do something I’d never imagined myself capable of.

I had expected it to be difficult, but Simon worked with me to make it easier. My enjoyment of swimming had made me good at holding my breath, and periodically Simon would withdraw to help me breathe without difficulty. The urge to cough or expel his intrusion did not come, and in a way it felt almost peaceful as I bobbed my head up and down the thick shaft. I could feel his manhood twitching with every move I made, his heartbeat thudding even harder when I stimulated him with my tongue.

“Fuck,” Simon muttered behind me after an intense couple of minutes, his fingers pressing against my scalp as he began to lose control. Feeling that he was about to pass the point of no return, I surged forward and took him even deeper. Burying my nose in his curly hair, I pressed my mouth down hard and played with extra couple inches of length that was ordinarily hidden beneath the skin.

“Jesus” he moaned loudly, and I felt his balls contracting just below my face as his muscles worked to pump load after load of seed into my throat, the thick veins of his cock swelling with each twitch and spurt. I instinctively tried to swallow as the liquid spilled into my throat, eliciting more moans of pleasure from Simon.

When he was finally spent I raised my head, panting heavily to catch my breath while he stroked my back and cooed happily. The break didn’t last very long, and soon he bent upwards, licking between my legs to reciprocate the pleasure I’d just given him.

Feeling the stubble of his cheeks tickling my thigh, the warmth of his body in our now-cozy blanket, I groaned happily and instinctively widened my stance, pressing my hips down closer to his face.

Simon lapped hungrily at my slick core, teasing my sensitive clit and making me writhe above him. I could still taste him on my breath, giddy from our shared attraction to one another.

My body was buzzing with excitement, and it didn’t take long before Simon’s skilled mouth had me moaning and desperate. He stopped licking just long enough to slide a finger inside of me, curling it and massaging my inner walls as I gasped and begged for more. He felt wonderful inside of me, and I could feel the pressure building rapidly when he resumed caressing the sensitive bundle of nerves with his tongue and lips.

With an uncanny sense of what I was feeling, Simon managed to stop when I was precisely on the very edge of orgasm. My fingers dug into his legs as I let out a throaty grunt, shuddering as my I craved release. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably less than a second, Simon once again covered my most sensitive area with his mouth. With one final flick of his tongue, I crashed through the threshold into pure, ecstatic bliss.

I could hear banging echoing up from the city below, but I knew that the fireworks we’d soon be watching would pale in comparison to the explosions I was experiencing now with Simon. I babbled lusty nonsense as wave after wave of pleasure crashed into me, my toes curling as blissful tremors overtook me.

When the pleasure finally began to ebb, I slowly curled myself up and turned back around, displacing the towels in the process and exposing myself to the cold night air. With a shiver, I buried myself back in the towels and beside Simon’s hot body. He wrapped his arm around me, his warmth radiating across my back while his fingers lazily caressed my ass. We stared at each other in happy silence for a moment before leaning in to kiss each other, the intimacy of the act only heightened by what we had just experienced together.

“That was absolutely wonderful,” I whispered once our tongues had disentangled from one another.

“Hell yeah,” Simon agreed, his piercing blue eyes staring into me and making me feel weightless. “I didn’t think it was possible to feel like that, you know."

“Thanks,” I said, blushing and happy that I’d won our little competition, after all. All those hours spent studying anatomy had finally paid off, it seemed.

“You just gave me the best blow-job of my life,” he teased with a tender smile.

My heart sank a little as I thought about the vulnerable position I'd put myself in. He'd been spreading all those rumors about me being a great cocksucker, and now I'd proven him right.

“Simon…” I began, scanning his features to confirm that there was no trace of mockery or malice. He’d meant it as a compliment, but it still stung.

Simon’s eyes went wide as he sensed my discomfort, the empathy on his face plain.
 

“Em, I—” he began.

“It’s okay. It’s just, that’s not exactly one of my favorite memories, you know,” I said, suddenly feeling a little chilly again and squirming closer to him.

“No, it’s not okay,” he said heavily. “I was absolutely awful to you, and I’ve felt terrible about it for years. I
still
feel terrible. I was a dumb bastard, and I ruined your life. I have nothing to say for myself, nothing can possibly excuse that. I was hurt and lost, but most of all, I was an asshole. I’m sorry. So,
so
sorry.”

I held my breath as he spoke, still wrapped in his warm arms even as his words sent chills down my spine.

“I know your dad wasn’t perfect,” I said finally.

“Far, far from it. But that was never a reason to hurt you, Emilia.”

I couldn’t argue with that. He let his arm relax around me, now his turn to hold his breath. Part of me wanted to sit up and jump from the cocoon he’d created for us, but I knew that urge was coming from a place of pain that got weaker with each passing day. The hurt that I’d been carrying for so many years seemed to be evaporating over the summer, dwindling down until it seemed not only manageable, but insignificant.

Simon had been making amends since he’d first set foot in the rec center a month ago, culminating in his apology tonight. Having our ugly past be discussed so openly filled me with a strange kind of serenity, the realization that the old wound was actually starting to heal for good.

“I forgive you,” I whispered quietly.

Simon leaned his head forward, resting on my shoulder as he pulled me in closer. I could feel myself relaxing, the warmth of his apology making me feel safe and protected even as his body heat once again chased away the cold. He pressed his soft lips into the skin of my neck, and I felt my whole body relaxing with a happy shudder.

I smiled happily as the thunderous boom of fireworks echoed in the air around us, the first salvo lighting up the night sky. Placing my hand behind Simon’s back, I pulled him in closer and gave him a long, deep kiss.

I couldn’t have wished for a better
quatre juillet
.

I mean, a bloody
fireman
!

Just one date, though.

That’s good.

I guess.

“Can I help you?” the saleswoman said automatically, flashing me a confident smile as she approached the display. She had obviously spent a great deal of time perfecting her appearance, taking great pride in the color coordination between her lipstick, nail polish, and strikingly fire-red suit. Her attire was contrasted wildly by the impeccably blow-dried mane of blond hair that sparkled in the light, gliding smoothly across her shoulders.

“I’d like to find a watch, please,” I explained, still wavering between two particular brands.

“This is only a small part of our selection, of course,” she said, almost managing to keep the condescending tone from her voice as she stared at the visible fragment of my tattoo. “If you’ll follow me, I’d be happy to show you the rest.”

My eye twitched slightly. The completely unsubtle loss-prevention officer shadowing me from the moment I came in had been annoying enough, but the saleswoman trying to coax me into a cheaper part of the store was only adding insult to injury. I always hated shopping in a place like this, the employees often clinging to old assumptions and refusing to even give me the time of day.

“Thanks, but I’d like to look at
these
watches,” I said tersely, sounding distinctly British. Occasionally, I’d get lucky and run into an elitist who could be impressed with little more than an English accent.

“Of course,” she repeated, tapping her perfectly manicured fake nails on the glass counter and flashing me a viciously asinine smile. “It’s just that—”

“Have you ever seen the movie
Pretty Woman
?” I interrupted, hoping she would take the hint before this turned into an unfortunate open confrontation. I wasn’t in a good mood, but also didn’t want to find another department store just to go through the entire process again. “Perhaps another salesperson working here
has
?”

Not giving her time to think of a retort, I continued. “I’m looking for a woman’s watch. Cartier or Mauboussin, perhaps. I want the best quality you sell, and I’m not going to ask how much it costs.”

It was always a great feeling when I could see the realization beginning to dawn on a money-starved salesperson. It was almost enough to cheer me up, but no amount of petty revenge could make today better. The summer was drawing to a close, and with it my time with Emilia and the rec center.

Even the best quality watch wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for Emilia, but it would have to do.

The past two months spent in her company had been a glorious succession of happy days and sensual discoveries. We’d fallen into a wonderful routine of spending our mornings jogging to Johnnie’s for a shared breakfast, our nights spent sleepless and passionate as I learned every inch of her body, continually finding new ways to push her over the edge.

This summer had been the end of my lifelong obsession with my stepsister.

This summer was the beginning of my hopefully lifelong relationship with Emilia Jones, the woman I loved.

We had barely been apart since July, spending nearly every moment together.

I’d helped her bake countless batches of the most delicious cookies, and watched her obsessively tweak parameters in her little flour-stained recipe book to cook the perfect meals for us.