“Because,” I whispered, licking my lips, “you're my stepbrother.”
Matt stood towering over me, waiting for me to submit to his will. He'd told me what he wanted before he would help take care of my mother. He wanted me. My body, my willing submission to his desires. I'd said no at first. But then I'd realized what a desperate situation my mother was in. Before she'd married Mr. Partridge, she'd been deeply in debt and on the verge of losing her house. Once she moved into the mansion, she'd sold the house, quit her job, and left her old life behind. But now, if Matt decided to, he could kick her out of the mansion and she'd be homeless in the streets. I didn't know if he'd actually do it, or if this was all a game to him, but I knew that either way, I was a pawn in his scheme.
Matt slipped his hand into my tight white blouse. I trembled as he touched my breast and pinched my nipple. I wanted to be angry with him to be disgusted that he was making me do this. But deep down, I knew this was what I wanted. I wanted to be used by him. To be dominated like this. To be forced into submission.
He placed a hand on my shoulder and pushed me down to my knees. I looked up at him, trembling. Yes, this was how I wanted it. I was too scared to admit my desires to myself, too ashamed to take what I wanted. So if I told myself he was forcing me, if I pretended that I had no choice, then it was as if I wasn't the one making this decision. I'd pretend that he was taking advantage of me so that I could get what I wanted without being disgusted with myself. Because no matter how much I tried to deny it, I desperately wanted my stepbrother. I wanted him to hold me down, to take me, to claim me as his own, to have his way with me in the dirtiest ways possible.
But I wouldn't admit that aloud. Not to him, and not to myself.
“Please,” I whispered. “Don't make me.
Please make me, I thought silently to myself.
“I'm just giving you what you've always wanted, Sis.” He grinned as he started unzipping his pants.
“No,” I said, lowering my eyes in shame. “No, I don't want to.”
Yes I do, I thought.
He reached down and grabbed my chin in an iron grip, tilting my face up towards him. “Open your mouth.”
I did as he told me, and before I could pull away, he thrust himself between my lips.
I moaned and closed my eyes, letting him do as he pleased. Letting go of my fears, of all control, was liberating. All I had to do was kneel there and let myself be used, and I loved it.
He held my head by both sides, thrusting himself against my face. I reached up and clung to his thighs, holding on for all I was worth. I was ready to take everything, to swallow it all, though I knew there was more to what he wanted.
He started to tense up, and I thought for sure his climax was approaching. But I didn't want it to end yet. I wanted to spur him on, to make him take me in the most forbidden way. He kept thrusting, and it seemed he wouldn't stop. I knew if I was going to get what I truly wanted, I was going to have to convince him to take me.
I needed to rile up his most dominant instincts. Make him more aggressive.
I pulled back, gasping for air. I backed away from him, pushing across the floor with my hands and feet. “No,” I said. “Don't.”
He glared at me, angry at being denied when he was so close to climax. He stalked forward, grabbing me. I struggled, but it was only for show. My struggles spurred him on, making him get rougher. He grabbed me and pushed me down to the ground, pinning me beneath him.
Yes, I thought. Yes, make me. Don't let me get away.
“No,” I said aloud, keeping up the charade. I couldn't tell if he knew I was faking my resistance. It didn't matter, though, as long as my fake protests kept spurring him to be more aggressive. “Please, let me go.”
“You want this, bitch,” he said. He pulled his pants the rest of the way off and knelt between my legs. “You're a tease. Do you like playing games with your big brother?”
“No.” I shook my head, closing my eyes. “I'm not a tease. I'm a good girl.”
He laughed and leaned down over me, spreading my legs. He pressed himself against me. I moaned, aching to have him inside of me. He teased me, rubbing himself against me without finishing what he'd started. I squirmed and whimpered, wanting it, needing it, but unable to do anything but wait until he gave it to me.
He grabbed my hair and turned my face towards him, leering down at me. He made me look into his eyes. I gasped, feeling completely controlled by his stone gaze. In that moment he entered me, filling me, completing me.
I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him tighter against me. There was nothing gentle about the way he took me, there on his bedroom floor. It was raw, it was animalistic, and it was amazing. I grabbed his shoulders and dug my nails into them, holding on for dear life. I'd never had a man who was so rough, so passionate, so determined to take what he needed from me. It made me feel wanted and alive.
I was thoroughly worn out by the time he collapsed on top of me, panting. I clung to him, holding him tight against me, refusing to let him go. We were both covered in sweat and out of breath. I felt like I'd earned an Olympic gold medal after such a workout.
Matt rolled off of me, laying on his back on the floor. He closed his eyes, blissfully content. I watched him, wondering what to make of what had just happened. How would this change our relationship? Where would we go from here? But I didn't have any of the answers. Nor did it matter. For now, for this moment, we'd both gotten what we'd wanted for such a long time.
I got up, stretching my back. Doing it on the floor had been kinky, but uncomfortable. I started searching for my clothes. My real clothes, that is. The way too small schoolgirl outfit had done its job by getting Matt all worked up, but I couldn't go home wearing it.
“You in a rush to leave?” Matt asked. He gazed up at me from the floor, laying there with his hands folded under his head.
“We had our fun,” I said, pulling on my pants. “I should head home.”
He got up and came over to me, pulling me into his arms. “Stay.”
“Why?” I looked up at him, uncertain.
“Because I want you to.”
I started to feel warm. “Why?” I asked.
“Because.”
I pursed my lips, sensing something behind his hesitation. He might have been in control when we were having sex, but now that it was done, I'd found a vulnerable place. “Because why?”
“Anne...”
I pulled away, smiling coyly and backing away from him. “Tell me why, Matt.”
He lowered his arms and hung his head, defeated. “Because I'll miss you.”
“Why?”
He frowned. I could tell he didn't like losing control like this. But that was just too bad. I had to know. “Why?” I asked again.
“Because I don't feel the same when you're not here.”
My heart thudded in my chest. Maybe, I realized, there was something more to Matt than just his primal desires. “How do you feel when I'm here?” I held my jacket up in front of my chest, blocking his view, teasing him.
“Complete.”
I lowered the jacket, suddenly feeling teary-eyed. “And what about my mom?”
He frowned. “Uhh, she doesn't make me feel complete.”
“No, stupid.” I threw the jacket at him. He caught it, laughing. “About the inheritance.”
“Oh, don't worry.” He tossed the jacket aside and walked over to me, slipping his arms around me. “She'll be taken care of. You don't think I was really going to cut her off, do you? She can have the mansion, and I'll make sure she's set up for life.”
“You will?” I pressed myself against him.
“Of course.”
We kissed, and this time it was slow, deep, and sensual. Now that our more primal urges had been sated, we could relax and enjoy the moment together. Kissing him was like waking up to a bright new dawn. I felt like all of my concerns in the world had been washed away. Nothing else mattered in that moment, except for the man in my arms.
I stayed the night, sharing his bed for the second time ever, though this time we slept in each other's arms. I wrapped the silken sheets around myself and nestled against him, content. I knew that in the morning I might still struggle with my shame, with the thought of what people would think about us. I didn't know if my mother would understand or accept this relationship. I didn't know whether we'd be able to be open about it, or if it would remain our dirty little secret. But I did know that I wanted to pursue this. That I wanted to learn the deepest, most intimate secrets of my stepbrother's life.
Matt kept his promise, and my mother was soon provided with a trust fund that would keep her safe and secure for the rest of her life. She eventually moved out of the mansion and into a more modest (though still luxurious) home, saying that she had felt too lonely in such a big place all by herself. She started filling her time with charity work, putting the money she'd acquired to good use by helping others. It made me proud to know that she had found a greater depth than I'd thought she had.
Matt sold his shares in his father's company, keeping the freedom that he needed in his life. Though there was one part of his life that soon changed, adding a wonderful little obligation that he just couldn't deny. A few weeks after our first wonderful night together, I discovered I was pregnant. He took the news better than I could have hoped for, and while we still maintained the wild, carefree lifestyle that we both loved, we started making a place in our lives for the new addition that was coming to our family. I moved in with Matt soon after, and he had the apartment renovated to make room for a nursery. Prepping for the baby soon dominated the majority of our time, but since I didn't have to work anymore, I was able to devote myself entirely to getting ready to be a mother.
A few months later, I stood in the completed nursery, holding my hands over my growing belly. I looked around the room, studying the crib, the decorations, and the sights that would be our child's first view of the world. Matt stood behind me, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my cheek.
“What are we going to tell our kid?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” I twisted around to smirk at him.
“You mean, about us?”
“Of course.”
“Well,” he said, sighing. He paused for a long moment, talking about it. “If you want to get technical about it, we were only really step-siblings for about six months.”
I laughed and shook my head. “So that's the story?”
“We'll just tell them,” he said, pulling me close again, “that our parents introduced us.”
I laughed, held him tight, and kissed him. That sounded like the perfect answer to me.