PAINTING MY STEPSISTER'S VIRGIN PUSSY-4

MIA

I shoved the notebook at his chest and climbed on top of him right there on the paint-covered canvas. Still naked. Still sticky from the shower that never finished. I straddled his hips, grabbed his cock, and sank down in one slow push until he filled me completely.

"You’ve wanted to ruin your stepsister for years," I said, rolling my hips once, hard. "Now do it properly."

Elias groaned, hands flying to my waist. Paint squelched under us. "Mia, wait. Let me explain."

"No." I rocked faster, using the smears of color between us as lube. The slide got filthy quick. "You bought my pieces. All those anonymous bids at the student shows. Then you pushed for this whole inheritance trap. Say it."

He sat up, arms wrapping around my back, mouth latching onto my nipple. Sucked hard while I rode him. "Yeah. I bought them. Every one." His teeth grazed me and I clenched around his cock. "Couldn’t stand the idea of strangers owning pieces of you. Needed them. Needed you here."

I slapped his shoulder, not hard, but enough. Anger and heat twisted together in my gut. "You manipulated everything. For this?" I ground down deep, taking every inch.

"For you." He thrust up to meet me, eyes locked. "Not just the fucking. Though fuck, Mia. You feel like mine." He flipped us suddenly, canvas rolling under our bodies, paint streaking everywhere. Now on top, he pinned my wrists above my head and drove in deep. "I love you. Been in love with the girl behind those drawings for years."

I wrapped my legs around him anyway. "Then ruin me. Fill your little sister until it shows."

He groaned and gave it to me. Hard thrusts that smeared fresh red across my tits. He sucked my nipples raw between strokes, one hand cracking across my ass when I tried to twist away. The sting bloomed hot and I moaned louder.

"Take my baby, sis," he panted against my neck. "Let me paint you from the inside. Keep you swollen and full so you can’t run."

The words hit somewhere deep and twisted. I came first, back arching off the canvas, pussy pulsing around him. He didn’t stop. Just fucked me through it, harder, until the canvas stuck to my skin. Then he pulled out, flipped me onto my stomach, and drove back in from behind.

"Again," he said. Hand in my hair. Other hand rubbing my clit. "Cum for your brother while I breed this perfect pussy."

I did. Shaking. Crying out his name. He spilled deep right after, thick pulses that overflowed and mixed with the paint. We rolled again, me on top once more, riding the mess. Slower this time. His hands worshipped my hips, my belly, my tits. Thumbs circling my nipples while I moved.

"I see you," he whispered. Eyes never leaving mine. "Your talent. Your fire. All of it. Not just this body."

Tears pricked my eyes. I leaned down and kissed him messy, angry and soft at the same time. "You should have just said something."

"Would you have listened?" He thrust up, grinding. "Or run from your stepbrother wanting to put a baby in you?"

I didn’t answer. Just rode him until we both came again. Exhausted. Covered head to toe in streaks of every color. His cum leaked out of me in warm trails, mixing with the paint on the canvas beneath us.

We lay tangled after. His arms tight around me. Forehead kisses landing on my hair, my temple, my sticky shoulder. He wiped some paint from my cheek with his thumb.

"I’m sorry about the manipulation," he said quietly. "I’ll tear up the clause if you want. Walk away from the money. Just don’t walk from me."

I traced a blue handprint on his chest. "I’m not walking. It’s scary as hell. But I’m here."

He smiled against my skin. Real. Tired. "Good. Because I’m keeping you. Muse. Lover. Mother of whatever we make. All of it."

We stayed like that a long time. Bodies cooling. Paint drying. His hand rubbed slow circles over my belly where he’d whispered about the baby. The guilt still sat there but it felt different now. Shared.

A car door slammed outside. Then footsteps on the stairs to the loft. Heavy. Purposeful.

Elias tensed under me. "Stay here."

I sat up anyway, grabbing the nearest drop cloth. It barely covered anything. Paint still streaked my thighs, his cum still dripping slowly.

The door banged open without knocking. Victor stood there, phone in hand, smirk sharp. "Cute. Real cute. Got the whole series photographed already. Your stepsister bent over every canvas. Your hands all over her. Parents are going to love this proof."

Elias stood fast, naked and streaked, stepping in front of me. "Get out."

Victor held up the phone. "Too late. Already sent previews. Inheritance might be the least of your problems now."

I clutched the cloth tighter, heart slamming. Elias’s hand reached back for mine, squeezing once. Protective. But the damage was already spreading.

Victor’s eyes dragged over what he could see of me. "Nice work, kid. Real authentic."

The door stayed open. The city lights blinked outside. Everything we’d built in this loft suddenly felt one message away from blowing up.

Elias didn’t let go of my hand. "We’re not done talking about this."

But his grip said otherwise. The rival had proof. Real proof. And our parents were one call away from seeing exactly how collaborative we’d been.