Stepbrother Studs: Sean (3 page)

BOOK: Stepbrother Studs: Sean
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“Tell me more,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck and smiling.

“You always strip where I can see you.”

I lifted my chin. “You have to be near to keep me safe.”

“You didn’t wonder why I had to take a leak every time you flashed your pussy?”

I giggled, feeling lighter and happier than I had in months. “I hoped you were bothered, but was glad every time you made yourself scarce, because then I could masturbate in private.”

Sean growled low in his throat. “Little prick tease.”

“Uh huh. That’s me.” I rubbed the hardened tips of my nipples against his chest.

His next laugh sounded more like a groan and he pushed me harder against the wall and ground against my pussy. “Think the staff will care if we soak the sheets?”

I tsked. “Good thing we’re leaving today.”

He reached behind him and slid open the shower door, then strode out of the bathroom, my pussy anchored on his dick. When we reached the bed, he crawled to the middle, clutching my ass so we didn’t slide apart. “You’ve never done it doggie style.”

“Will it be as much fun for me as it will be for you?”

“Think I won’t make sure you come first, baby?” He pulled abruptly away, then flipped me to my belly.

I let him arrange me just how he wanted, my breasts on the bed, my ass in the air, then hissed as he pushed inside me in a single, insistent stroke.

“Oh God, you’re deep.”

“Like my cock?”

“At least it’s good for something.”

He smacked my ass, and my pulse quickened.

“Do that again,” I whispered and hid my face against the sheets as he chuckled.

Again, he slapped me. “More firsts. You’re a greedy bitch, Rose.”

Next time, I’d make sure he spanked me, full-on, bent over his knees, because I liked the way the swats warmed my ass and soaked my channel. I wriggled on his cock. “Let’s save something for next time, baby.”

With a laugh, he gripped my hips and began moving—long, hooked glides that left me aching and breathless.

“Almost...” I gasped.

He bent over me, and his hands slid under me, cupping my breasts while he delivered shortened strokes. “I’ll never get my fill of you,” he said, his voice harsh and rasping. And then he smoothed a hand down my belly and buried a fingertip in my cleft.

I let out a keening wail and pushed up on my arms, jerking backward to meet his thrusts as my orgasm spilled over me.

When he gave a muffled groan and halted, his body quivering behind me, I reached back to stroke the side of his hip. When I could draw a deeper breath, I said, “We should go, darling.”

He pulled away, then turned me, and held me against his body. “For however long we live, you’re mine.”

My throat tightened with unshed tears. “Then we’ll be old and gray and still in love.”

His smile was a little sad, but he nodded. “I’ll get everything loaded. You go finish that shower.”

When he let me go and left, I let my tears fall. That bad boy hellion I’d first met was the kindest man I’d ever known. The strongest. The truest.

Why had it taken until now for me to realize?

* * * *

We drove to the intersection, ready to enter the highway again. Sean took the map from me and unfolded it. He took a pencil from the cup holder and drew a cross over Crow’s Crossing. “Next stop’s Purgatory Gulch, Texas. It’s just north of Amarillo.”

“Another place you knew well?”

He nodded. “There’s a farmhouse, just outside of town. The beds were soft.”

I smiled, and glanced down the highway, looking north. My heart stilled inside my chest. Sean’s hand slid over the one frozen in my lap.

“We’ve seen worse,” he said.

He pulled into the intersection, and knelt on my seat to glance back down the highway. The small group of zombies ambling down the road were a little more ragged, their skin falling away from the muscle. Soon they’d lose that too, and no longer be able to move. Not quite dead. The contagion would continue to thrive on marrow.

I shivered and turned to settle in my seat. “You know, you always know when to get out of town. It’s a gift. We wouldn’t have lasted this long without that sixth sense.”

He snorted. “I’m not psychic, but it’s like I can smell them in the air.” A zombie lurched into the road, and Sean gunned the engine to plow through it, not missing a beat. “I get that stench, and then I know—there goes the damn neighborhood.”

“What the hell draws them to a ghost town? There’s nothing left to eat.”

Sean shot me a glance, his expression once again, that implacable soldier’s face. “Baby, they’re all ghost towns now, every damn one of them. And they’re all ghosts, only they don’t know it yet.” He popped a CD into the player and turned up the volume.

I lowered my visor as we drove off into the sun with Johnny Cash singing, “Ain’t No Chains Gonna Hold My Body Down.” I couldn’t help smiling.

The End

 

MORE STEPBROTHER STUDS:

Stepbrother Studs: Aaron

Stepbrother Studs: Brian

Stepbrother Studs: Cameron

Stepbrother Studs: Daren

Stepbrother Studs: Dustin

Stepbrother Studs: Evan

Stepbrother Studs: Finn

Stepbrother Studs: Gavin

Stepbrother Studs: Hayden

Stepbrother Studs: Ian

Stepbrother Studs: Jason

Stepbrother Studs: Kevin

Stepbrother Studs: Mason

Stepbrother Studs: Quinn

Stepbrother Studs: Ryan

 

FIRST TIME WITH MY STEPBROTHER SERIES:

Stepbrother First Times: Baby Kisses

Stepbrother First Times: Baby Love

Stepbrother First Times: Baby’s Big Night

Stepbrother First Times: This Time, Baby

Stepbrother First Times: Welcome Home, Baby

 

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BONUS MATERIAL

STEPBROTHER STUDS: FINN

By Selena Kitt

Molly’s handsome stepbrother, Finn, has called her Pita—short for pain in the ass—for so long, she’s almost forgotten her own name.

And, she has to admit, she’s mostly lived up to it, because Finn is a typical, know-it-all, overprotective older stepbrother who thinks he always knows what’s best for her.

But when she finds his journal and reads the secrets he’s been keeping, she suddenly has a decision to make.

They have one week alone at a cabin together this summer—can she make Finn realize that, this time, his little stepsister knows what’s best? For once, she knows what she wants—and now she knows he wants it too.

Does she have the courage to push him to his limits?

 

EXCERPT
:

I didn’t see him again until after I’d eaten my dinner. He stomped through the back door and stood over the recliner where I was sitting sideways, feet swinging idly, while I read an old copy of People magazine. Pictures of the sexiest man alive didn’t thrill me nearly as much as the angry flush spreading across Finn’s cheeks or the sight of his lean body in shorts and a loose tee.

“I want it back.”

I blinked up at him, pretending I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

“Nice to see you, too,” I said, giving him a smirk.

“Now. I want it back.”

I sighed and made a show of rising from the chair. I made sure to stand very close so I had to tilt my head to meet his gaze. I liked his height. Liked the breadth of his expanded shoulders. He looked strong and lean, and very capable of picking me up and doing whatever he wanted to do with me.  A thought that thrilled me to my toes. But how to goad him into doing it? That was the question that had been driving me buggy since I’d masturbated in front of him.

“What do you want back?” I asked, letting my smile deepen just a little. Just enough he knew I was fully aware of what he wanted.

“It’s mine, Pita. My
private
journal. Now move your sweet little ass and get it for me.”

I didn’t have to pretend to shiver at his command.

“Or what?” I whispered, leaning closer.

“You don’t want to find out.”

“Maybe I do.” I tilted my head and licked my bottom lip. I’d never been much of a flirt, but with Finn, I was finding it so easy to do. Maybe it was because my nipples were tight again and my pussy was beginning to warm.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, his glance dropping to my mouth.

“Is that what you want?”

“Stop it.” His gaze narrowed and bored into mine. “I’m your brother.”

“That didn’t stop you thinking about me giving you blow jobs.”

His expression hardened. “It’s one thing to think it. I’m a guy, we think about sex all the time. But I’m not a fucking perv.”

“How disappointing.”

“Stop playing.” He reached out to grip my upper arms. “Give it back.”

I raised my chin. “Or you’ll… do… what?”

His grip tightened. So did his lips. Before I could gasp, he whipped me around and bent me over the chair. The first swat stung my ass, the shock holding me still. The next swat was just as sharp.

And then something happened. Something unexpected. My skin tingled. My pussy grew damp. Following another naughty impulse, I reached back and shoved my shorts and underwear down to my thighs.

“Again.” I’d been naughty, and naughty girls needed punishment—right?

“Pita,” he groaned. “Goddamn it, why can’t you act like a normal girl?”

“You spank girls so often you know what’s normal?”

“Never. For fuck’s sake, pull up your pants.”

“Or what?”

Instead of landing another slap on bare skin, he dragged me up against his chest. His mouth was right beside my ear, his breath coming fast and harsh.

My shorts slithered down my thighs and puddled around my feet. While I stood nude from the waist down, I looked up and to the side and met his hot glare, daring him silently to act.

“I want it back.” He sounded like he was trying to keep his cool.

“And I’ll return it,” I agreed, swallowing hard. Was I really going to do this? But I already was, doing it. Now I just had to get him to do it too. “But first you have to spank me like you mean it. I mean… don’t I deserve it?”

I saw the surprise in his icy blue gaze a moment before his eyes narrowed. And then he moved, not letting go of my arm as he sat in the chair. He yanked me over his lap, his strong, bare thighs riding my ribs and my belly.

“Why are you doing this?” His voice was almost a whisper, like maybe he didn’t want to know.

Bent over with blood rushing to my head wasn’t a situation exactly conducive to lying, so I answered him honestly.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m curious. And this feels... good.”

“Me spanking your ass feels good?”

“My bare ass... please.” I nodded.

I wasn’t a virgin. But I also wasn’t very experienced. I knew enough to understand that he’d sparked something inside me. Something that wanted his punishment, his control. I felt feminine and helpless, and so thoroughly excited I thought I might get off like this, bent over him, his hand smacking me until my ass was hot and my pussy so wet I’d dampen his thigh.

Just the thought was getting me off.

He laid his hand on the curve of my bottom, tentatively, not giving me its weight. Like he was fighting with himself, trying to make the right decision—but he was tempted to give me what I’d asked for. What I deserved.

What I wanted.

What I knew he wanted.

 

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