Taken by my Stepbrother— Part 2

THE BREAKING POINT

His fingers curled inside me, slow and deep. Every movement was calculated, made to unravel me completely. 

I bit down on his shoulder to stop myself from screaming. My mother was two doors away. Her new husband snores like a wrecked train, oblivious that his son was currently knuckles deep in his stepdaughter. But the man in front of me doesn't seem to care. He pushed his fingers in and out of me with maddening speed, watching my face twist in the dim hallway light. 

“Look at you,” he murmured. “Soaking my hand. And I haven't started yet. 

Words were hard to form as my hips rolled against his palm, chasing the rhythm he set. He pulled his fingers out just as I was about to shatter. 

“No,” I gasped. “Please–” 

“Please, what?” 

He brought his wet fingers to his lips, licking them clean. His eyes never left mine. He savored me like I was the most expensive wine he'd ever tasted. 

“Taste yourself, little rabbit,” he said. “I want you to know how you taste and what you do to me.” 

The name he called me sent butterflies down my stomach.

He kissed me again, and I tasted copper and salt and something sweet underneath. My own arousal. It should have been disgusting, but it was the hottest thing I'd ever experienced.

He grabbed my wrist, pulling me into his room. The door clicked shut behind us. “No lock or dead bolt. Just a thin wooden barrier between our sleeping parents and us. Anyone could walk in,” he said. 

But I didn't care anymore, and I'm excited for what's next. 

He pushed me onto his bed. The bed sheets smell like him– smoke, male sweat, and sandalwood. My top rode up to my hips, exposing my stomach. He stood over me, looking down like he'd been starving for his entire life.

“You're shaking,” he said.

“Well… I'm nervous.”

“Don't be.” He pulled off his sweatpants, and Oh My God, I gulped down hard at how hard and big he is. Thick and veined. The tip was already glistening with a bead of moisture. My mouth went dry. 

“I've never…” I swallowed hard. “Not with someone like you.” 

He tilted his head. “What do you mean by that?”

“Older and experienced. You've probably done this a hundred times.”

He climbed onto the bed, straddling my hips. His weight pressed me into the mattress. He was warm. Heavy. Perfect. 

“I've never done this,” he said. Leaning down until his lips brushed my ear. “Not with my stepsister. Not with someone I actually… want.”

That word hit me like a physical blow. Want. Not just lust. Want. 

His hand slid under my tank top, palming my breast. His thumb circled my nipple until it hardened into a tight peak. I arched into his touch, needing more.

“These,” he said, squeezing gently. “I've been staring at them all week. The way your nipples poke through your shirts. You don't wear a bra at home, do you?” 

“I need to be comfortable,” I breathed. 

“Comfortable,” he repeated, laughing low in his throat. “You're trying to kill me, little rabbit.” 

He pulled my top off over my head and tossed it somewhere into the darkness. His mouth found my neck, then my collarbone, down to my breast. He took my hard nipple between his teeth. Bit down, not hard but enough to send a shockwave of pleasure straight to my core.

I cried out. He clapped his hand over my mouth.

“Quiet,” he warned. “Unless you want them to hear.” 

I shook my head. His hand stayed over my mouth as he moved lower. Kissing my stomach, leaving a trail of wet heat. My hips bucked when his tongue traced my navel. 

Then he was between my thighs.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and pulled. They came off with my panties, in one smooth motion. Tossing them aside like they were nothing.

“Fuck Mia,” he said, spreading my legs with his palms. “You're dripping.”!

I was. And feeling embarrassed, I tried to stand up, but was held back down by a firm hand.

“Where are you going to?” he asked. 

“I… I'm going back to my room,” he smirked. “And why is that?” I gasped as I tried to speak, but was unable to when he speaks against my clit, “even when I do this?” he said. My body jerks as the tip of his tongue swipes up the side of my pussy. 

“And this?” he did the same to the other side, and I'm whimpering. “What about here?” 

I dropped my head on a moan as he teases my entrance with the tip of his tongue.

I bit my own hand to stay silent.

He ate me like he was starving. His tongue circled, flicked, pressed. His fingers returned, two– stretching me, preparing me for what was coming. 

He hummed against my flesh, and the vibration shot straight up my spine.

I came against his mouth. Hard. Shaking. My thighs clamped around his ears. He didn't stop. He kept licking through every spasm, drinking me down, moaning like I was the best thing he'd ever tasted.

When I stopped shaking, he crawled back up my body. His chest pressed against mine. He was slick with sweat. So was I.

“Your turn,” I whispered.

He smiled. “What?”

“I want to taste you.”

He looked surprised, almost vulnerable. “You don't have to—”

“I want to.”

He rolled on his back, and I straddled him. My hair fell forward, brushing his thighs. I took him in my hand. He was heavy and hot. 

I looked up at him as I lowered my mouth. His head fell back. His hand was buried in my hair. “Oh fuck,” he muttered.

I took him deep. Gagged, pulled back, and took him again, deeper. His hips jerked involuntarily as he was losing control. And I loved every second of it. 

“Mia, stop. Stop. I'm gonna—”

I didn't stop. I wanted to taste him. Every drop. He came with a strangled groan, his fingers tightening in my hair. I swallowed each drop. 

He pulled me up and kissed me. Deep, messy. He tasted himself on my tongue. 

“You're dangerous,” he said against my lips. 

“Good one or bad one?” 

He flipped me onto my stomach and pressed my face into the pillow. His body covered mine, hot and heavy. 

“Both,” he said.

I felt him at my entrance. Wet, ready. He notched himself there, teasing.

“Tell me you want me,” he said. “Say it out loud.”

“I want this, Ethan, I want you. I want you inside me.”

He pushed in. 

Slow. Inch by inch, making me bite the pillow until my jaw ached. He filled me, stretching me. Owned in a way no one ever had.

“Look at me,” he commanded. 

I turned my head. He was watching me. His jaw was tight. Sweat dripped from his brow onto my bare back. 

“You're mine now,” he said. 

Not my stepsister. MINE.

He began to move. Long and deep. Each thrust hit something inside of me that made me see stars. 

My parents were asleep. The house was silent. And here I am beneath my stepbrother, who was fucking me hard into his mattress like he'd been waiting his whole life to do it.

I didn't want him to stop.

I wrapped my hand back and gripped his thigh, pulling him deeper. 

He groaned. “You want more?”

“More,” I begged. “Harder.”

He gave it to me. Harder and faster. His rhythm shattering as he was close, and so was I.

“Come for me,” he growled. “Now. Come on my cock.” 

I shattered. Drenched around him. He screamed into my shoulder and spilled deep inside me. Pumping through every wave of my climax. We stayed there panting, sweating, tangled in the twisted sheets.

He pulled out slowly and collapsed beside me. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me against his chest.

“That was…” he couldn't finish the sentence.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “I know.”

He kissed the back of my neck. Soft now, tender. The predator was gone. In his place was something more terrifying: a man who genuinely cared.

Then he froze.

We both heard it. Footsteps in the hallway. His bedroom door had no lock.