Lahat ng Kabanata ng Ruin me, Stepbrother: Kabanata 91 - Kabanata 100

"Fuck," he groaned against my boobs as I was stroking his dick, and his body jerked up so his hips move into my hand like it was following the rhythm of my stroke.His breathing got harder and more ragged, and I felt this surge of power knowing I was doing this to him, making him lose control.His finger inside me started moving slowly, pumping just slowly in and out, and then he added a second finger and the stretch made me gasp...."fuckk-"The feel made my tighten my grip on his cock. He added one finger, and two fingers became three, stretching me wider, filling me up, and then he curled in, in and in. Then he started inside hitting that spot that made stars explode behind my eyes.I needed to inflict same amount of pleasure.I stated stroking him faster now, my hand was moving all around, the exact was his fingers was pushing in and out. Both of us working each other toward something desperate and so very hot.His thumb

Now I really need to shower, and properly this time, not the quick wash I'd done earlier.I stood up and walked to the bathroom like a clueless toddler, turned on the water and let it heat up while I pulled off my nightgown and panties. The evidence of this morning was still all over me, and my thighs was sticky and wet, as I stepped under the hot spray with this cool relief.The water felt so good, washing away the physical evidence even if it couldn't wash away the ones deep in my head.I scrubbed my skin until it was pink, washed my hair twice with the same vanilla shampoo I use, to give it that soft and shiny feel. I used my favorite conditioner, the one I saved for better occasions, especially those I'm very eager to attend, and I made sure I shaved everything carefully.I was taking my time, making this into my own special way of transformation, washing him off my body and preparing to be the version of a normal girl that could go on a norma

Outside, the street was busy with people. From beautiful shoppers, to happy tourists, and business types of expensive suits. Normal great New York City.Miles didn't let go of my hand as we walked through them."So," he said, stopping on the sidewalk. "I told you my car is about a kilometer that way." He gestured down the street. "You'd love to walk with me to go get it right?""Let's walk. I could use the movement after all that food.""Good call. I might be in a food coma."We started down the street, and I noticed things I usually didn't. The way he matched his pace to mine without thinking about it. How he steered us around a puddle left from earlier drizzle of rain. The way his thumb brushed absently across my knuckles.He told me about the time he got food poisoning in Barcelona from street paella and spent two days convinced he was dying in a hostel bathroom."Lexi had to bring me crackers and ginger ale," he said. "Actually, it was Alex. He was there too. Kept making jokes abo

We stepped out of the gallery into afternoon sunshine that felt warmer than when we'd gone in. The city had that golden quality now—the light softer, shadows longer. Late afternoon bleeding toward early evening."The park's this way," Miles said, pointing down the street. "About ten blocks. Too far to walk?""I'm good. These heels are surprisingly comfortable.""Liar. All heels are instruments of torture.""How would you know?""I had a girlfriend freshman year who made me hold her heels, and wore my shoes while i walked barefoot home from parties." He grinned at the memory. "She said it built character. I said it built resentment.""And yet you dated her.""For three whole months. A record at the time." He laced his fingers through mine as we started walking. "What about you? What's your relationship record?"I thought about it. "Define relationship.""Interesting answer.""I've dated people.

The walk back to the parking garage felt different than the walk to the park. Less anticipatory, more settled. Like we'd crossed some invisible threshold and were both aware of it.Miles kept my hand in his, our fingers laced together naturally. Every so often his thumb would brush across my knuckles, unconsciously. Like he needed the contact."Okay, real question," he said as we turned onto a busier street. "If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you go?""That's a big question.""I'm a big question kind of guy." He pulled me closer as we navigated around a group of tourists clustered on the sidewalk. "Come on. Anywhere. Money's no object, obviously.""Obviously." I thought about it. "Paris, maybe. Or Barcelona. Somewhere with good food and architecture and a language I'd have to actually learn.""Not stay here?""I don't know. Maybe? New York feels like where you go to prove something. Not necessarily whe