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Second Chance Stepbrother by Penny Wylder (7)

6

Clearly there’s going to be no fighting what we feel for one another. And frankly, I don’t want to fight it. I want to give in, jump off the bridge with him, lose myself in the way it feels when we’re together. When the rest of the world fades away, and it’s just me and Josh alone in our private bubble. When we can pretend that there’s nothing standing between us, no obstacles to keep us from where we belong—together.

We start sleeping in the same bed every night. We stay up late, wait until the lights go out in the big cabin, and then I sneak into Josh’s room, which has a slightly wider bed than mine, though still not really wide enough for two people. We make it work—usually we’re too exhausted from fucking in every position we can imagine by the time we actually fall asleep anyway. I wake up every morning with his arms wrapped around me, his warm body cradling mine. And usually with his morning wood poking my ass. Even on the rare days when he’s not already hard by the time I wake up, all it takes is a few strategically placed butt-wriggles from me to get him there, and then we’re right back where we left off the night before, with him sliding into me from behind, and me bent half-double across the bed, my hips angled so he can fuck me at just the right angle to hit my G-spot, make me come with a gasp.

We can’t be loud. We can’t scream each other’s names the way we want to, not with our parents sleeping less than 50 feet away, with only a few thin wooden walls between us.

One morning, we almost get caught. I wake up earlier than usual, thank god, and I’m rolling over in our tight quarters, about to slide under the covers to kiss Josh awake—probably by licking my way along his abs, trailing down that V-cut of his muscles to his groin, where I can lick and suck his cock until he rolls over and grabs my head and wakes up fully.

But I’m only halfway down his chest when I hear footsteps outside, a loud voice, far too close by.

“Hey Josh?”

It’s Susan.

I freeze in place, and Josh blinks down at me sleepily, only half-awake, still orienting himself. I put my finger to my lips, frozen solid.

“Yeah?” he asks tentatively, after a long moment.

“I need some help out here.” The footsteps come closer. Stop right outside the door.

I duck under the covers. As if that’s going to help. If she walks in here right now, it will be pretty obvious that there’s more than one person in this tiny, cramped cabin.

“Sure, Mom,” he calls back.

She taps her foot on the floor, clearly waiting for him to spring up right away.

“Um. Can I have a minute though?” he asks, after an awkward pause. “I need to… Use the bathroom. Pretty urgently.”

“Oh. Of course, honey.” The footsteps pad away, and I spring out of the bed almost the moment they cross the floor of our little cabin. We both stare at one another, hearts pounding.

That was close.

Too close.

For a of couple nights, it slows us down. We take to hiking out to the far side of the lake late in the evenings. There’s some old abandoned canoes there, left by someone who summered here last year from the looks of it. We cleaned one out, laid down blankets, and for those few nights, we have sex there instead. We still have to be careful, because voices carry far across the wide-open lake. But we can relax a little, let our guard down slightly. I lay across the bench of the canoe while Josh spreads my legs from behind and fucks me doggie-style across it. We still don’t fully let go, but I let myself cry out when I come, and he groans my name with every thrust, and when he finishes, I spin around to kiss him in full view of the whole lake because there’s nobody out here at this hour but us.

Afterwards, we walk back to our cabin hand-in-hand. We only let go when we absolutely have to, when we reach the porch. And for those few nights, we retreat to our separate beds, sleep alone. I curl around my pillow and ache, because even though I have more space in this bed, I can move my legs and roll over and everything, I don’t want that space. I want him here. I want his arms around me, and a place to call ours where we don’t need to hide.

I want him to be mine. I want to be his.

That’s impossible now. It always will be. Even once we leave this lake, this cabin, this nice little time portal we’ve hidden ourselves in, where we can pretend that only this summer exists and nothing outside of it, we’ll still be an impossibility. You can’t date your step-brother. You can’t love your step-brother.

You definitely can’t fuck him. Repeatedly. Desperately. Insatiably.

After a few days, though, we can’t resist any longer. After dinner, a few mornings after his mom walked in on us, I wake up to the sound of the shower in our cabin running. I tiptoe across the cabin, check Josh’s room first. He’s up already, obviously. I peek out the window, across the porch that adjoins our cabin to the bigger one. I don’t see any signs of life, not yet.

So I gently turn the knob on the bathroom door. Push it open lightly, and peek past it.

Josh has his eyes closed, his head buried in the rushing, hot stream of the shower.

I slip inside and close the door behind me, taking care to do it slowly, quietly, so he won’t hear. Then I pull off my nightgown and let it fall in a puddle at my feet. I step out of my panties, and cross the rest of the cramped bathroom completely naked.

Josh opens his eyes when I pull open the glass door of the shower. For a second, he just stares at me, in that way I can’t get enough of, because he looks like he can’t get enough of me. His gaze drops all along my curves, traces every inch of me, before he grins and grabs my waist and pulls me against him.

I run my hands down his sides, memorizing the lines of his muscles, tracing them even as I lean up to let him claim my mouth in a long, firm kiss. His hands trail down my back, along the edges of my shoulders, counting the vertebrae of my spine.

“Turn around,” he whispers in my ear, and I shiver, grinning up at him. He raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to make me tell you twice?”

I keep my eyes on his. “Depends,” I say. “Will you promise to punish me if so?” I wiggle my hips to emphasize that point, and he takes advantage of the moment to slap my ass, quick and sudden, not enough to hurt, though the faint sting sends a whole set of new chills throughout my body.

“Only if you’re very bad,” he replies, grinning too, leaning toward me, eyes on my mouth.

Now I do listen, and rotate slowly before him, smirking over my shoulder before I whip my head around to face the glass wall of the shower. In the steam, the glass has gone slightly reflective—enough that I can see Josh’s eyes as he runs his hands over my shoulders, my back, the curve of my ass. He grips my ass tight in one hand and my mouth parts, a faint moan escaping.

“Are you a bad girl, Pau?” he murmurs, those hot eyes still on my body.

I shake my hips again, just a little, wriggling my butt in his direction. “Very, Josh.”

“What have you done that’s so naughty?” He massages my ass now, both hands on my cheeks, spreading them, gripping them tight enough that I know he’ll leave marks in the morning. I don’t care. I love it.

I lean back against him, and catch his eye in the glass. “For one thing, I’m fucking my step-brother.”

He laughs, low and dark against the nape of my neck. His teeth nip at my skin there, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make the hairs stand up. “That does sound very naughty of you. That step-brother of yours is going to have to give you a spanking.”

“Oh no,” I gasp, though my pretend-fearful voice isn’t very convincing.

Josh chuckles again, and then gently bends me forward, until my chest is pressed against the glass, my head turned sideways to watch him. He pulls my hips back, positions me so I’m bent almost in half in the shower, and then runs just one hand over my ass, light, caressing.

Without warning, he whips that hand back and brings it across my ass in a hard slap, just on one cheek. I gasp and jump against the shower wall, the sting racing through my body like a jolt. But I love it, the contrast of the hot water and his smooth skin as he caresses the spot he just slapped.

“Does my naughty little step-sister want more?” he asks, eyes dark with desire.

I meet his gaze, breathe in sharply, the thick, heavy mist of the shower tight in my throat. “Yes, please,” I whisper.

He slaps me again, on the other cheek this time, and my gasp is louder this time. Almost too loud. We both pause, check the door by habit. But all’s quiet outside the shower. It’s just the rush of the water and us alone in here.

Josh slaps me again, and I moan with pleasure and pain, mingled together into the best possible blend.

Just when it’s starting to sting too much, to cross the threshold from pleasure to pain, Josh backs off to stand behind me, letting the hot water rush over the red skin now, his hands gently massaging my aching ass. My eyes flutter closed at the sensation, and I breathe out a faint sigh of pleasure.

“Don’t you go getting too relaxed,” he admonishes, and I straighten a little. But he catches me halfway up, keeps me bent over, and positions himself behind me. His hard cock brushes along the backs of my thighs. Before things progress any further, he opens the shower door and gets me to reach into the medicine cabinet. I pass him a condom, and then he pulls me straight back under the warm water, bent over under the stream as he unrolls it along himself.

At the same time, he slides one hand between my legs. Reaches up to stroke one finger along my slit, already wet from his spanking. “Somebody enjoyed that punishment a little too much,” he murmurs, and I grin over my shoulder at him.

“Not my fault you’re so good with your hands,” I point out, and he smirks. As if to demonstrate, he spreads my lips with two fingers and circles a third right at my entrance, teasing. Toying with me.

He pushes one finger into me, slowly, and at the same time runs his other hand along my chest, rolling my nipple between his fingers, squeezing just hard enough to make me gasp. My nipple hardens under his fingers, and he pushes another finger into my pussy, thrusting back and forth with that hand, and massaging my breast with the other in sync. The combined sensations make me lose focus on him, lose focus on anything but his touch, the pleasure that spikes through me from every movement.

I’m only just starting to rock with him, in time with his finger as he spears my pussy, when he suddenly pulls out. I groan in protest and thrust my ass back toward him, but he spanks me again lightly to stop me in my tracks. I glare over my shoulder, while he grins back, and positions himself behind my ass.

“If you want, I can just keep fingering you,” he says, eyes on mine. “But I thought you would prefer to be fucked properly.”

In response, I reach behind me to grip the base of his cock. The condom is already on, but I squeeze my hand tight around him, run along his length anyway, to make sure he knows what my answer is. I spread my legs a little and pull him toward my entrance, and he laughs.

“That’s what I thought. Though it’s hotter to hear you say it.”

“Fuck me, Josh.”

His smirk widens. “Is that how you beg, naughty girl?”

“Please fuck me.” My voice goes breathy with desire.

“Oh, so you want me to fuck you, is that it?” He trails his cock along my slit, and a shiver races down my spine.

“Yes, fuck.” I grit my teeth and plant my palms against the glass wall. “I mean, fuck yes.”

He laughs again. “Your wish is my command.”

When he thrusts into me this time, it’s hard and fast, a thrust so deep it makes me groan as his cock stretches and fills my pussy. I never get tired of that sensation, feeling him inside me, knowing he’s claiming me for his own. The cool glass of the shower wall contrasts with the heat of the water pounding over us, and his body against mine, his hot cock buried deep inside me. I clench my pussy around him as he pulls out, grin over my shoulder, enjoying the way his mouth parts and his eyes go dark with lust.

I love watching him fuck me, watching how much I turn him on. It sends a thrill throughout my whole body, to know he wants me every bit as much as I want him.

“Fuck, you are gorgeous, Paulina.” He runs his hands through my wet hair. Pulls it aside, then winds the hair around his fist, drawing my head back slightly so my neck arches, and my breasts press flat against the glass wall, nipples hard against the glass. When he thrusts into me again, I rock with the motion, back against him, driving my hips into his.

He keeps that one hand buried in my hair, and wraps his other around my hip, hard, pinning me in place as he starts to build up momentum, to fuck me in earnest.

“God you are so fucking tight,” he hisses through gritted teeth, and in response, I arc my hips to angle toward him, so he can thrust deeper, his cock dragging along my walls with each thrust.

“Fuck, Josh…” My eyes fall shut. But he stops thrusting, and a tense, frustrated sound emerges from my throat.

“Turn around,” he says, as he pulls out of me.

I spin toward him, impatient. He must be too, because before I’m even fully facing him, he’s lifting me off the ground, hands gripping my ass as he pins me against the shower wall. He maneuvers my hips, positions me right above his cock, and I reach down between us to guide him back into my pussy. At this angle, he can’t help but hit my G-spot, with my legs wrapped around his waist and his hands still spreading my ass and my back arched against the glass wall.

I let my head fall back against the wall too, buck against him as he fucks me harder, faster. With every thrust, I’m pushed closer to the brink, until all I can perceive is him—he’s all I see, all I feel, all I can hear or smell or taste. He catches me in a kiss, tongue hot and invasive, twining around mine as he fucks me until we’re both gasping, gripping each other with strong fingers, desperate.

“Josh… I’m going to come,” I gasp against his mouth, and he lifts my hips up, angles me against him so he can thrust even faster now, in response. His eyes catch mine, a smile on his mouth.

“Come for me, Pau. I love watching you come.”

I keep my eyes locked on his as I cry out, the orgasm sweeping through me. I cry a little too loudly, I realize, but his lips crash into mine halfway through it, muffling the sound as my pussy spasms around him, my body rocking from the high. He keeps thrusting into me, not relenting, and slides a hand between us as he does. His thumb finds my clit, circles around it, not quite touching, just putting on enough pressure to send me quickly rocketing toward a second climax.

A knock sounds at the door. We both freeze, eyes wide. Josh keeps thumbing my clit, though, slowly, no mercy in his eyes.

“Paulina?”

Shit. It’s my dad. I panic, tighten around Josh, and his mouth parts in a silent gasp as I do.

“In the shower, Dad,” I shout. I barely manage to keep my voice from trembling.

“Oh, okay. Sorry. Breakfast is ready, have you seen Josh?”

Sure, he has his cock inside me and he’s currently fingering me so hard I’m about to explode. I shut my eyes and grit my teeth. Josh must take that as encouragement, because he keeps his thumb circling down, harder.

“Nope,” I manage, and my voice only shakes slightly.

“Okay. See you soon.”

Before Dad can even walk away, the orgasm hits. I dig my hands into Josh’s shoulders, bury my face in his chest to stifle the faint, desperate moan that escapes.

“Paulina,” he hisses, and I look up to find him staring at me. “I’m going to come.”

I press my lips to his to swallow the sound, and he groans against my lips as he finishes, hands digging into my ass. We wrap our arms around one another, hold on tight, and for a long moment, neither of us moves, even to lower me to the ground. I love the moments like these, when we’re both vulnerable, both just finished, and we know how mad we drive one another.

He sets me down on my feet gently, and reaches for the soap in the shower caddy. Without a word, he kisses my lips again, then starts to slowly lather up my skin.

“That was…”

“Amazing,” he finishes.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Close.”

“That too.” He’s grinning like we just got away with something. And we did, I know. But it still sets off an unpleasant sensation in my belly.

I let him wash my whole body, from my neck all the way down to my toes, and then we trade places so I can do the same for him, running my hands over every inch of his perfectly sculpted body.

Then we have to slip out of shower one after the other, slowly, sneakily, and it makes the high I just felt sink down into a low again.

This is all we’ll ever have. Stolen moments like this, clandestine secrets. We can never just be together, openly and easily together. It makes my chest ache, and a knot grow in the pit of my stomach.

When I cross outside to meet him at breakfast, sit next to him as always and brush our feet together under the table, it only makes me feel worse.

I want him, and I’ll never be able to have him. Not in any way that counts.