Fuck!

Chapter five— Fuck!

I woke up wet, the sheets twisted around my thighs like they knew what I’d been dreaming about. The sun was barely even out. I wanted to play the good little stepsister today: make pancakes, smile and pretend I didn’t spend half the night imagining Micaiah’s hands pinning me to the mattress.

I walked barefoot down the hall in nothing but a T-shirt. Micaiah was probably still asleep.

But I was wrong.

Micaiah leaned against the bathroom doorframe, fresh from the shower, a white towel around his hips. Water still clung to the deep V cutting down his stomach, drawing my eyes straight to the thick ridge straining against the material. His cock was hard, impossibly hard, the outline so clear I could trace every vein with my stare. He didn’t move to hide it. He just looked at me, slow and filthy, like he’d been waiting for me to walk by.

My nipples tightened so fast it hurt. Heat flooded between my legs, slick and sudden, soaking the inside of my thighs. I couldn’t breathe right. I managed some choked sound, and bolted past him to my room, slamming the door like that could lock out what I’d just seen.

I needed to come. Now. Before I did something unforgivable in the hallway like drop to my knees and beg my stepbrother to fuck my mouth.

I yanked open the nightstand drawer. Empty. Panic clawed up my throat. The vibrator was gone. I tore through the sheets, under the pillow, even checked the floor like it might have grown legs. Nothing. My pussy throbbed, swollen and aching, begging for something thick to fill it. I couldn’t wait.

I flopped onto the bed, knees wide, shirt shoved up to my neck. Cool air hit my wet cunt and I whimpered. Two fingers slid through my folds, spreading the mess he’d caused just by existing. I circled my clit hard, chasing the edge, but it wasn’t enough. I needed the buzz, the stretch, the brutal vibration that always made me scream his name when I thought no one could hear.

“Please,” I gasped to no one, hips bucking against my own hand. “Fuck, please—”

The door opened without a knock.

Micaiah stood there holding my pink rabbit vibrator like a trophy, beads of water still dripping from his hair onto his bare chest. His towel was gone. His cock out in the open.

“Looking for this, little sister?”

I should have stopped touching myself. Should have yanked the blanket over me and screamed at him to get out. Instead my fingers kept moving, rubbing faster, shameless, because the way he said little sister made my clit pulse harder than any toy ever had.

He shut the door with his heel. Stalked forward. The mattress dipped as he knelt between my spread legs, eyes locked on my dripping pussy.

“Greedy girl,” he murmured, voice rough. “Couldn’t even wait till I was done showering.”

He clicked the vibrator on—my favorite setting, the one that always makes me sob—and pressed the buzzing tip right against my clit without warning. Pleasure spread through me so hard my back bowed off the bed.

“Micaiah—fuck—”

He didn’t let up. He dragged it down my slit, coating it in my wetness, then pushed the thick shaft inside me in one slow, merciless thrust. My walls clamped around it instantly, greedy, starving. He twisted it deeper, the rabbit ears fluttering against my clit, and leaned down to lick a hot stripe up my throat.

“You’re soaked,” he growled against my skin. “This pretty cunt’s been crying for me all morning, hasn’t it?”

I couldn’t answer. Could only whine and rock against the toy he worked in and out of me with filthy precision. My thighs shook. I was already close—so close—

He pulled it out.

I cried out at the loss, empty and desperate, but then his mouth was on me. Hot, wet, perfect. He licked into me like he was starving, tongue fucking my hole before sealing his lips around my clit and sucking hard. Two thick fingers shoved inside me, curling, stroking that spot that made my vision white out.

“Look at you,” he rasped between licks, voice muffled against my pussy. “Creaming all over your brother’s face. Such a filthy fucking girl.”

I came with a broken scream, hips grinding against his mouth, flooding his tongue. He didn’t stop—kept licking me through it until I was sobbing, oversensitive and shaking.

Then he rose up over me, cock in his fist, dragging the swollen head through my slick folds.

“Tell me,” he said, low and dangerous. “Tell me who this cunt belongs to.”

“You,” I panted, spreading wider, shameless. “It’s yours—please, Micaiah—”

He slammed into me in one brutal thrust.

The stretch burned so good I saw stars. He was bigger than the toy, thicker, hotter, filling me so perfectly I couldn’t breathe. He didn’t give me time to adjust—just gripped my hips and started fucking me like he hated me. Hard. Deep. The headboard cracked against the wall with every thrust.

“Take it,” he snarled, pounding into me, balls slapping my ass. “Take every inch of your brother’s cock like the greedy little slut you are.”

I clawed at his back, legs wrapped around his waist, meeting every thrust. My pussy fluttered around him, already climbing again, embarrassingly fast.

He shoved my knees to my chest, folding me in half, and drove even deeper. The angle made me scream. His thumb found my clit, rubbing tight circles.

“Come on my cock,” he ordered through gritted teeth. “Show me how much you love being fucked by me.”

I shattered a second time, harder than the first, squirting messily around his pistoning cock. The wet sounds were obscene. He groaned like it hurt.

“Fuck—gonna fill you up—”

He buried himself to the hilt and came with a guttural sound, pumping rope after rope of hot cum deep inside me. I felt every pulse, every throb, milking him dry while aftershocks wracked my body.

Slowly, he lowered my trembling legs and brushed damp hair from my face. His voice was softer now, almost tender.

“Breakfast can wait,” he murmured, lips against my temple. “I’m not done with you yet.”