Stepbrother UnSEALed Page 10

  Good girl. I need to keep her eating, so I decide to distract her with something more pleasant.

  “Once you get writing, I hope you realize it's not all about death and destruction being a SEAL.”

  She quirks her eyebrows, wondering what I'm getting at. “Oh. Yeah, I'm sure you guys boast about your women all the time...”

  I laugh. “Not a lot of memorable fucks against the other shit guys get into on their off hours. This one mission, a new recruit snuck contraband rum on the last day of our training exercise in the Aleutians. He was so trashed by the next morning he tried to put the moves on a walrus.”

  She laughs. She needs it, and so do I. Her happiness is sexy, a medicine we both need to bleach the dead men from our skulls.

  I go into detail, telling her about how the idiot got down with the beasts, and almost got a tusk through his face before we pulled him away.

  Somewhere in between the giggling, she's pushing steak and glazed asparagus into her mouth. Perfect.

  I don't let her have more than half a glass of wine with her food. Letting too much booze into her veins could set her off all over again, even though it's starting to feel like a halfway normal evening. I work her with jokes and stories, trying to focus on her sweet face instead of the cleavage spilling out her top.

  “Chris – stop! You're going to make me choke.” She kicks her legs underneath the table, brushing her bare foot against my leg. Lust starts seething in my hot veins.

  I tell her about a soccer game we played with these kids in Afghanistan, and how we let them beat us, rewarding them handsomely in all the chocolate rations Uncle Sam gave us that month.

  It's the least we could do after half of them lost their dads, executed by the Taliban fucks who rolled through their town before the military sent in my team for cleanup. I keep that last part to myself.

  Even if it weren't classified, she doesn't need more melancholy shit tonight. She needs laughter, passion, my mouth all over her body.

  I keep talking. She can't stop smiling, pecking at her food. I don't let her stop – not 'til she's happy and satisfied every damned way I know how to make a woman. Maybe even a few I haven't tried yet.

  I reach underneath the table, grab her foot, and hold it in my lap. My hand works her arch, admiring its beauty. It's impossible not to think about the way her toes are curling soon, wrapped around my ass while I drive my hips hard between her legs.

  Fuck.

  “I never realized SEALs kicked back so much,” she says, her laughter fading as she notices my hand massaging up her ankle. “I'm not going to lie – I thought you were just an arrogant jackass when we first met.”

  “Still am,” I tell her with a shrug. “Yeah, we're America's finest, but we've gotta have our fun. I also know exactly what I want in life, and I don't have time for anybody or anything who gets in my way.”

  Her smile softens. I think she understands, even if I'm ruining the five minute head trip where she saw another side to me than badass killer.

  I don't care about giving her a glimpse. But I'm not doing illusions either. I'm still Chris Cleveland, and there's nothing more I want right now than to finally fuck this girl, burn everything wicked and wild out of our systems for good.

  I polish off the last of my wine and stand up, heading over to her. “You still want that brownie sundae? It's huge, even for me, and I'll need your help if I put the order in.”

  “Oh, no.” Delia looks at her almost empty plate in surprise. “I've probably eaten too much. I really got kinda carried away while you were talking, and I shouldn't have –“

  “Nonsense.” I take her hands and jerk her up, spinning her smartly into my chest. “We can do the sundae later. Right now, I'm hungry for something else, and I know you are too.”

  I don't give her time to react. I push her against the wall and throw my lips on hers, pouring out my heat, my need, all the molten desire I've been bottling up for the first time since I laid eyes on this woman.

  The kiss takes her by surprise. She's still for about ten seconds, but finally she melts into my arms, opening her lips for my tongue to stroke deeper, wetter, sexier. I kiss her the same way I want to fuck her, hard and so damned deep, reaching all the way to her soul.

  My hands slide down her back, and I use my hips to keep her against the wall, pinned down, her legs gradually opening for me. It's a great position to fuck her right through her dress again, grind against her clit 'til she goes off like a rocket, exploding underneath me.

  But I'm sick of this cat and mouse shit. I don't want anymore barriers between her pussy and me, and I want to feel her coming on my mouth, on my fingers, convulsing on my raging cock.

  I gaze into her eyes, letting her see the full force of my building hunger. “You ready to get that V-card punched for good, sis? Or are we just going to share a bed and pretend we don't want to fuck each other's brains out every waking second?”

  Her cheeks flush and her lips tremble. Fuck if it doesn't make me want to bite them harder, drag her wet little lip into my mine and never, ever let go.

  “Yes!” It comes out her lips in a shallow gasp, and my dick jerks. It's all I need to hear. I let her up from the wall and feel her pulse quickening in my hand.

  I walk us over to the bed before I take her in my arms again, feeling for the zipper lining her spine. The tight black dress those bastards soiled is coming off. She's lucky I don't just tear it to shreds.

  Delia's mine now. Every beautiful inch of her. Whenever I decide to let her get dressed again, she'll be a whole new woman.

  The only thing that makes me pause before I give her dress its final pull is the electric warning surging in my nerves, the threat of something too damned good shining in her eyes.

  Once I start fucking her, I might not ever stop.

  What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, sure, but if she's half as hot as I think, I'm going to want more when she's back to being my stepsis at home. What then?

  I don't have a fucking clue. I can't think anymore. By the time her impatient little lips connect with mine again, I don't care about anything except feeling her wrapped around every inch of me.

  VII: One Week in Paradise (Delia)

  “Can't believe we've waited so fucking long to do this, Delia. It feels like half a lifetime. I never waited with girls before – I'd fuck them in twenty-four hours or move on. With you, it's different. I gave you another chance, I gave myself one too. I need to know why.”

  I can't believe he killed them like it was nothing. I can't believe he's this insatiable, this ready to fuck me, only hours after he slaughtered two men in cold blood.

  I'm even more surprised I'm going to let him.

  Every time his skin meets mine, it's like some crazy chemistry I don't understand. I can't think about the way I was almost brutally raped, or how dumb I've acted since our plane landed. There's nothing – and I mean nothing – in my head except how incredible his hands feel on my body.

  It's like lightning entering my bloodstream. My heart pounds, sending fire to every crevice, every nerve. My temples start pounding, but it's got nothing to do with the imminent hangover tomorrow.

  It's lust. Desire. Need.

  The dress comes off in his hands and drops on the floor. I swear I'm about to self-combust as I step into him wearing nothing but my bra and panties, more naked than I've ever been for a man, but ready and willing.

  He kisses me hard, pushing his lips against mine with so much force he bends my head. One rough hand slides through my hair, forms a fist, and jerks my head lower, all the better to conquer me.

  His other hand rubs up my back, feeling for the clasp to my bra. He's not screwing around and wasting anymore time, and I'm reeling from the shock.

  “Goddamn, you taste so fucking good,” he growls, jerking my bra off and throwing it over his shoulder. He notices me pinching my thighs together, trying to hide the crazed wetness seeping through my panties.

  Chris tears at my waistband, brushing my pussy
with his thick fingers. “These are coming off, girl. You've got nothing left to hide from me, understand? Now, lay down and spread your legs so I can suck what I should've tasted weeks ago.”

  Whimper isn't an accurate description for the fearful desire pouring out of my mouth. He pushes my butt down on the bed and opens my legs, tearing at my panties, jerking them down my legs in one fluid movement.

  I'm completely bared to him before I know what's even happened.

  His calloused hands push my thighs apart and he works his lips, stamping new hot, aggressive kisses up my legs, stopping at my inner thighs. The same tongue he's teased against mine a hundred times works virgin flesh.

  I can't stand it. I'm never going to live it down if I start coming before he's even put his mouth on my clit. My fingers dig at the Egyptian cotton sheets, feeling their softness, trying to anchor myself for the storm rising up between my legs.

  Chris stops for one long second to give me a look. His green eyes are violent, wanton, glowing mirrors for all the ways he's about to fuck me. He's going to make me forget what virgin even means.

  The same rough stubble that's made me come undone before rips through me when it brushes up my thighs. He's stamping his lips up, feral and hungry in a way I never imagined, heading right for the slick heat throbbing in my center.

  My legs kick reflexively. A terse moan rips out my mouth, and the sound makes him put both his hands on my thighs, spreading them, pinning them down, opening me for his insatiable mouth like he owns me.

  And when his tongue brushes my pussy, he absolutely does.

  I almost explode the very first time his strong tongue slaps my clit. His strokes tease me at first, hurling me toward the edge, tasting my virgin folds. With my legs locked down, his hands rise up my body, roaming. My nipples pulse between his fingers, puckering into nothing, becoming his toys.

  My whole body becomes his, his, and only his with every flaming lick. His tongue speeds up, pushing deeper through my virgin folds, catching my cream. He's desperate to fuck me with his tongue too, I just know it, but not until he's had his dick there.

  His chin rides up, and he focuses on my clit instead, lashing me over and over and over in ferocious waves of pleasure.

  I can't take more than a minute. My fingernails tighten on the fistfuls of cotton sheets until it feels like they're about to tear, and I don't give a crap either.

  My body arches up, riding him as I come, and I scream like I'm losing my mind. Hell, I guess I am.

  After tonight, nothing will ever be the same. It's like the world's ripped open and I've fallen into an alternate universe, one where kissing heaven and hell is just routine. But all I really want to do is kiss him a thousand more times, savor all the unthinkable ways he's going to bring me over the cliff, into the blinding white heat that melts every inch of me.

  He won't stop licking me the whole way through the fireworks exploding in my veins. My body won't stop convulsing, trailing his mouth, bucking up and down until I can feel his stubble, teeth, and tongue all over my pussy.

  No joke, I almost black out. When I remember to breathe and the aftershocks finally die down, I look up, and see him standing over me. He's taking off the neat vest he's been wearing all night, and then he starts working on the button down shirt underneath.

  My legs pinch shut awkwardly, feeling a new rush of wetness.

  He shakes his head and gives me a stern look. “You keep those legs open for me, princess. We're not done. Not by fucking half.”

  When he's on the last button, something comes over me. It feels almost like a ritual, watching Mr. Prime and Proper unveil the bad boy underneath in all his mad glory. My hands shake, but I force them to reach out to grab both sides, and rip his shirt back against his shoulders.

  “Oh my God.” It spills out when I see his naked chest again, everything I've missed since our very first night together, when I saw him half-naked on the beach.

  The dragon painted on his skin seems more menacing now. The trident around it bounces as he shrugs his shirt to the floor, bulging on his muscle, hard slabs ready to carry me to new ecstasy.

  “Go ahead. Run your fingers down my abs. Feel my strength. It'll help you guess how hard I'm going to fuck you in about two minutes.”

  “Chris...” I let go and do it. Speaking his name while I'm touching him like this sends a shiver down my spine.

  My pussy throbs all over again, aching to feel him deep inside me. The rest of my body simmers, ready for the dark, rough ride he's promised. I crane my neck down near his belt and kiss, right in the middle of those perfect hills and ridges forming his abs, a perfect core cut by danger and destruction.

  He runs his hand through my long dark hair and pulls. My face tilts up and he reaches down with his free hand, starting on his belt.

  “Do the rest, babe. Pull out my cock and suck it. I've been thinking about your lips wrapped around me since our first night on the beach.”

  He works off the belt and his pants fall open. I manage to stop my hands from shaking as I reach around him, pushing his pants and boxers down.

  His cock snaps out, angry and thick. I don't know whether to drool or be afraid. He's way thicker than anything I imagined, so big it looks like he can split me apart. I grip just underneath his swollen head, and his fist goes over mine, adding to the pressure.

  “Like this. Harder. Just like we're going to fuck, baby.” He's teaching me how to please him, and I'm so eager to learn it hurts.

  My free hand slides down between my legs, unable to resist toying with my clit as I pump him up and down. His head rolls back on his perfect shoulders and he groans. The thunder in his throat makes me imagine it's coming from the dragon on his chest, the beast I'm awakening inside him.

  I stop flicking my clit just long enough to lower my mouth down carefully. He gives my hair another tug and I watch the green gems in his face light up.

  He's hot, hard, and salty. I'm bathed in his intoxicating scent, everything I want to smell all over me soon, that curious mix of earth and strength and cinnamon.

  “Suck it deep. I want your little tongue all over every inch of me. Fuck, yeah, just like that.” His words come hoarse, tense. “Don't stop playing with your clit. Keep that pussy hot for me, babe. I'll be balls deep soon.”

  His fingers add more tension to my hair, pulling on my locks, guiding me up and down the motion. I'm trying to focus on his pleasure, rather than my own, but it's hard as hell when I'm circling like mad between my legs, pumping my lips across his shaft harder.

  My tongue starts to understand the shape of his dick, all the spots that make him jerk and hitch his breath. I lick deeper into the crown around his head, tasting his pre-come trickling into my mouth, ears humming as he flexes and curses.

  “Ah, shit. You're a goddamned natural. You're lucky I don't just slam my balls against your chin and unload down your throat.”

  Holy shit. He's so crude. It should turn me off, but instead I'm getting wetter.

  The fire in his eyes says he actually might do what he threatened. It's rough, it's more than I can handle, but damn if it doesn't make me cream myself on the spot.

  I'm steadily building toward another climax, flushing the entire time, pumping my lips up and down his magnificent shaft as quickly and firmly as I can.

  My eyes are narrowed and I'm about to explode. There's something shamefully decadent about being crouched on the bed with my mouth full of my badass stepbrother's cock, hand between my legs like a porn star.

  It's crazy. Up until a few minutes ago, it was unthinkable. So is the way he fists my hair and jerks hard, tearing me off his cock. I look up, wondering if I've done something wrong.

  No, his eyes tell the truth. This is right. We're right, Delia.

  “Get down and spread your legs,” he growls, giving me a gentle push. I feel the big bed sink beneath his weight, and he's holding me in his arms, pulling me to him as we shift toward the center of the bed.

  Sweet Jesus. It's really goin
g to happen. I'm about to fuck my arrogant, handsome, hero of a stepbrother, and nothing in this world's going to stop me.

  My legs feel like they're on fire as I open them. He's snuck a condom out of his pocket before losing his pants, and I watch him tear the foil with his teeth, rolling the sheath on his enormous length.

  He moves forward, guiding his bare cock against my slit. He pushes the tip of his length across my pussy, melding himself to my folds, one small angle away from pushing in and claiming what's his.

  “Fuck, you're beautiful.” He stops and his mouth comes down on mine, frantic and hotter than ever, a savage hunger building in his tongue as he shoves it against mine. “If you fuck half as good as you suck, Delia, we'll spend this whole damned trip in bed. I've been crazy about having this pussy for almost a month. Once I take it, I'm never gonna stop. Never.”

  Oh, God. The way he says it flips my heartbeat onto turbo. I force myself to look at him and suck at my bottom lip, reaching out to touch him, really feel him in all his hardened Navy SEAL wonder.

  In my wildest fantasies, I never imagined a man like this fucking me. Never.

  I never imagined I'd actually have him after I found out who he was, even though I wanted to.

  I never, ever thought he'd save my life, never thought he'd give me something no one else ever has, never expected my heart to skip every time I look at him.

  We haven't even fucked, and it's already about more than that. I'm afraid to admit it, but I know.

  Luckily, I don't have to think or talk about any of that right now. His hands are all over me, cupping my breasts, pushing my nipples between his palms. He brings his hot lips down my neck, then stops at my right globe, pulling the bud there between his teeth.

  Shit. It's too damned good. Everything about him.

  By any sane measurement, I'm the one who's too good for him, daughter of a multimillionaire with a 3.9 GPA, on my way to a happy, successful life. And here I am coming apart for this ruthless badass, begging him to fuck me with every gasp and scratch and soft little roll of my hips.