My Stepbrother's Lesson (A Forbidden Collection)

Chapter 1

Ava waited until the house had gone quiet before she knocked on his door.

She stood in the hallway in an oversized hoodie and the shortest pair of sleep shorts she owned, heart beating too fast for something as simple as asking for help. The light under Noah’s door was still on. She could hear the low murmur of a video playing on his laptop.

She knocked again, softer this time.

The door opened almost immediately.

Noah stood there in black sweatpants and nothing else. His hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it while studying. The sharp lines of his shoulders and chest looked even more unfair under the hallway light. She had seen the way girls looked at him at the wedding — the way they still looked at him whenever he came to campus to tutor. He never seemed to notice. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

Tonight his eyes dropped over her once, quick and unreadable, before he stepped back.

“What’s up?”

Ava twisted the sleeve of her hoodie between her fingers. “I… I need help. With anatomy. I’m failing the practical section and the midterm is in two weeks. I saw on the department board that you’re still taking tutoring students.”

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. The movement made the muscles in his forearms flex.

“You want me to tutor you.”

“If you’re not too busy.” Her voice came out smaller than she wanted. “I can pay the same rate you charge everyone else.”

Noah studied her for a long second. Then he pushed the door wider.

“Come in.”

His room smelled like clean laundry and the faint trace of whatever cologne he wore. A desk lamp cast a warm pool of light over an open textbook and a half-empty energy drink. He cleared a space on the edge of the bed and nodded for her to sit, then dragged his desk chair around so he was facing her.

“Show me where you’re stuck.”

Ava pulled the textbook from under her arm and opened it to the chapter on female reproductive anatomy. The detailed diagrams made her throat tighten the way they always did in class. She kept her eyes on the page while she explained the parts she could recite and the parts that made her freeze whenever the professor called on her.

Noah listened without interrupting. When she finished he took the book from her hands, flipped a few pages, and set it on the bed between them.

“Alright. We start simple. You’re going to say every term out loud while you point to it. No looking away.”

She nodded.

For the first twenty minutes it stayed clinical. He made her repeat the names until her voice stopped shaking on the more intimate ones. Every time she hesitated he simply waited, calm and patient, until she got the word out. His knee was close enough that she could feel the heat of it through her shorts, but he never touched her.

Then he turned the page to a full-body diagram and tapped the illustration of the breasts.

“Explain the structure.”

Ava’s mouth went dry. She started talking — mammary glands, adipose tissue, nipples — but her voice grew thinner the longer she spoke. When she reached the part about nerve endings her cheeks felt hot enough to burn.

Noah’s gaze stayed on her face.

“You’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” He closed the book and set it aside. “That’s the problem. You know the words. Your body just locks up when you have to connect them to something real. So we’re going to fix that.”

He stood and walked to his dresser, returning with a plain black marker.

“Stand up.”

Ava rose on unsteady legs. The hoodie suddenly felt too thin. Noah stepped close — closer than a normal tutor would — and uncapped the marker.

“I’m going to draw the major nerve pathways on you. You tell me what each one is when I point to it. If you get it right, we move on. If you freeze, we stay there until you can say it without looking like you want to disappear.”

She should have said no.

She should have taken the textbook and left.

Instead she lifted her arms when he reached for the hem of her hoodie.

He pulled it over her head in one smooth motion and dropped it on the chair. Underneath she wore only a thin white tank top, the kind that did nothing to hide the heavy curve of her breasts or the way her nipples had already tightened from the cooler air. Noah’s eyes flicked down once, then back to her face. He didn’t comment. He simply took her wrist and turned her so her back faced him.

The first touch of the marker was cold.

He started at the base of her neck and drew a slow line down her spine. Every time the tip of the marker dragged across her skin, tiny goosebumps followed. When he reached the small of her back he paused, then continued lower, stopping just above the waistband of her shorts.

“Spinal nerves,” she whispered.

“Good.”

He turned her around again. This time the marker traced the collarbone, then lower, following the outer curve of one breast through the thin fabric of her tank top. The pressure was light, almost clinical, but her breath still stuttered when the tip circled closer to her nipple. She felt the traitorous tightening of the peak against the cotton and prayed he wouldn’t notice.

He noticed.

The marker stopped. Noah’s free hand came up and gently pinched the fabric, lifting it just enough to see the dark outline of her nipple pressing against it.

“Sensitive here,” he said quietly, more observation than question.

Ava didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The simple brush of his knuckles against the underside of her breast had sent a sharp, liquid pulse straight between her legs.

He released the fabric and continued drawing, this time over the center of her chest, down her stomach, stopping at the edge of her shorts. Then he hooked one finger in the waistband and looked up at her.

“I need the shorts off for the next part.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. “Noah—”

“Anatomy, Ava. The diagram includes the external genitalia. If you can’t look at it on paper without panicking, you’re going to have to look at it on yourself until the panic stops.” His voice stayed even, almost gentle. “You asked me to tutor you. This is how I tutor.”

She could have walked out.

She didn’t.

Her fingers shook as she pushed the shorts down her hips. They pooled at her feet. She stepped out of them and stood there in only the thin tank top and a pair of plain white panties that were already damp at the center. The cool air of the room kissed the wet fabric and made her thighs press together.

Noah crouched in front of her.

He didn’t touch her yet. He simply looked — long enough that she felt every inch of her body under his gaze. The soft swell of her lower stomach, the generous flare of her hips, the way her thighs brushed. When his eyes reached the damp spot on her panties, something in his expression darkened.

“These too.”

Ava’s hands moved on their own. She hooked her thumbs in the sides and slid the panties down. The moment the cool air hit her bare pussy she felt more exposed than she ever had in her life. She was already slick — she could feel it coating the soft folds, could smell the faint, musky scent of her own arousal.

Noah’s throat worked as he swallowed.

He picked up the marker again and drew a careful line along the outer lips. The tip was cold and slightly sticky. Every millimeter of contact made her hips twitch. When he parted her gently with two fingers to draw along the inner folds, a soft, helpless sound escaped her throat before she could stop it.

He looked up.

“Still with me?”

She nodded, cheeks burning.

“Name what I’m touching.”

“Labia majora,” she whispered as his finger stroked the outer lip. “Labia minora.” His fingertip slid inward. “Clitoris—” her voice broke when he brushed the swollen bud. A full-body shudder rolled through her. Her knees nearly gave out.

Noah’s free hand came up to steady her hip.

“Breathe.”

She tried. The next pass of his finger was slower, deliberate, circling the sensitive peak without quite giving her the pressure she suddenly needed. Her hips chased the touch before she could stop them. A fresh rush of wetness slicked his finger.

He didn’t smile. He simply kept going, voice low and steady as he continued the lesson.

“This is the clitoral hood. Underneath is the glans — most of the nerve endings live here. That’s why even light contact makes you react like this.” He demonstrated with the softest brush of his thumb. Ava’s head fell back, a broken little moan slipping out. “And lower—” his finger slid down, gathering slick, and pressed just barely inside her, “—is the vaginal opening. You’re tight. Has anyone ever been here?”

“No,” she breathed.

Something hot and possessive flashed through his eyes, gone almost as fast as it appeared.

He withdrew his hand and stood. His sweatpants did nothing to hide how hard he was. The thick outline pressed against the soft fabric, impossible to miss. He made no move to touch himself. Instead he wiped his wet fingers on the inside of her thigh, leaving a shiny trail, and nodded toward the bed.

“Lie down. On your back. Knees up.”

Ava obeyed. The sheets were cool against her bare skin. When she bent her knees he moved between them, still fully dressed, and settled her legs over his shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Last part of tonight’s lesson,” he said. “You’re going to feel every nerve ending while I show you what they can actually do. You don’t come until I say you can. Understand?”

She nodded, already trembling.

The first stroke of his tongue was devastating.

He licked her open with slow, filthy precision — long, flat strokes from bottom to top that made her back arch off the bed. Every time the tip of his tongue flicked over her clit her thighs jerked around his head. He held them open with both hands and kept going, eating her like he had all night and nowhere else to be. The wet sounds filled the room. She could feel how soaked she was, could feel the way her pussy fluttered and clenched around nothing every time he focused on that swollen little bud.

“Noah—” his name came out broken.

He hummed against her and the vibration shot straight through her core. Two thick fingers pressed inside her without warning, stretching her virgin cunt with a burn that made her cry out. He curled them immediately, finding a spot that turned her vision white, and rubbed in firm, steady circles while his mouth stayed locked on her clit.

Ava shattered faster than she thought possible.

The orgasm hit like a wave she couldn’t stop. Her whole body locked, thighs clamping around his head, a high, shocked cry tearing from her throat as she came all over his tongue and fingers. He worked her through it without mercy, sucking and rubbing until she was twitching and oversensitive and trying to squirm away.

Only then did he lift his head.

His mouth was wet. His chin glistened. He looked at her like he wanted to start all over again.

“That,” he said, voice rough, “is what happens when you stop being afraid of your own body.”

He eased his fingers out of her and wiped them slowly across her lower stomach, leaving shiny streaks on her skin. Then he stood, adjusted the obvious bulge in his sweatpants, and tossed her the hoodie.

“Put that on. I’ll walk you back to your room.”

Ava sat up on shaky arms, still breathing hard, the aftershocks still flickering through her. She pulled the hoodie over her head. It smelled like him.

At her bedroom door he stopped.

“Same time tomorrow,” he said. “Wear something easy to take off. We’re going to work on how much you can take before you start begging.”

Then he left her standing there, thighs slick, lips swollen, and the unmistakable knowledge that her stepbrother had just turned a tutoring session into the dirtiest thing that had ever happened to her.

And she already knew she would be back for the next one.