Trouble: A Stepbrother Romance Page 3

  We panted, and he released my hands. I tried to tidy myself up with as much dignity as I could find. He pulled up his zipper. Shit, why was I getting turned on so much when it was not what we were supposed to be doing. I nearly forgot the whole reason I was here in the first place as he held my hand and pulled me in the direction of my bedroom.

  Rogue wanted more.

  I should have tugged on his hand and told him that it was enough.

  But when he said, “Where’s the bedroom?”

  I found myself replying, “This way.” I took the lead to do everything to him that I had secretly fantasized. And I knew by the performance just now, it would put my secret fantasy to shame.

  Chapter Six

  Rogue

  I dropped her hand and took my surroundings in for a brief moment. Her room was cold—I’d expected to see red walls and maybe an enlarged photo of her above her bed. I’d imagined a four-poster bed with nets. Her room was nothing like that.

  There were no photos, nothing personal. It was as if it wasn’t her place, but a showroom. Even that would have had a picture on the wall. Something to make it more inviting.

  The bedcovers were the same color as the walls and floor, cream. I had been in a few women’s bedrooms, and none of them had been as cold as Claire’s. For a minute it took me by surprise, especially because of the way she was hungry for me.

  Did this sex-craved woman really live here?

  Did she rent it because she didn’t want me to know where she really lived?

  I shook my head and thought about her stripping down like a hooker ready to take her favorite client. There was no misunderstanding about what we were about to do.

  A whole lot of fucking!

  I just needed to take my time. I wanted to take in her body, her smile, and most of all what she looked like when she came. I walked across the room without an explanation, sat in a leather armchair, and pulled out a cigarette.

  “I want you to do what you do when you’re alone.” I realized that she was butt naked in front of me and completely confused as she put her hand on her hip.

  I growled, “Make yourself come.” The way she was acting earlier, I knew that she was deprived. I might have been in the slammer, but I could tell that Claire had been begging for it just as long as I had been. Or even longer. There was only one way that a woman who didn’t have sex on a regular basis behaved.

  Like they wanted more.

  That quick pump against the door only got her started.

  I wanted to see her when she came.

  She took a moment to digest my words. I slowly sat down in the corner chair and then, like a tormented slave freeing herself from chains, she moved to the center of the bed.

  I sat back and relaxed, getting ready to enjoy the show. I expected her to complain about the smoke. Tell me that I was out of line.

  She didn’t.

  Instead she moved too fast, slipping her fingers in and out of her pussy as if she didn’t have an audience. We lost eye contact, and that wasn’t what I wanted or needed.

  No, I needed her to know that I was here.

  To pretend that it was my fingers going in and out of her.

  So I purred, “Slowly.”

  “What?” she asked, as if I had woken her up from a bad dream.

  This wasn't sexy.

  I needed to show her what it meant to be sexy.

  I repeated, “Sl-ow-ly,” while drawing on my cigarette.

  This time, she touched her nipples, which made my dick harden. She stopped for a brief second as I adjusted my pants as it started to rise once again.

  This time she faced me with her legs wide open, and she put her fingers in between her legs one at a time. My length continued to jerk. She put her damp fingers in her mouth.

  That fucking drove me nuts.

  I felt like bending her down and fucking her again. It took every power in me to control how I was feeling.

  I closed my eyes for a second and drew on my cigarette again.

  Her body spasmed as she placed two, then three fingers inside her pussy. Her legs were wide open and sprawled out. I didn’t know where to fucking look.

  At her face while she struggled to breath.

  At her breasts while she used one hand to flick her nipples.

  Or at the grand prize.

  Right down below, where she was rubbing her clit like fucking crazy.

  I nearly caused a fire. I dropped my cigarette by accident. Picked it up. Assumed that the next door was the bathroom.

  “Arrh!” she wailed as she rubbed herself vigorously.

  I flicked the cigarette in the toilet and went to help her along her way. I dropped my pants, swung them off, and set my full length free. I launched myself in front of her, moved on top of her, and waved her hand out of the way.

  “Rogue!” she cried as I pumped her so fucking hard. There was no holding back. I raised one knee and then pushed back inside her again. The more she screamed, the more I groaned, until I couldn’t hold back anymore.

  Her breasts were bouncing off my chest, and before I knew it, my cum shot up inside of her. I wanted to touch her. My dick might have finished, but my emotions were running wild.

  I couldn’t help but taste her nipples. I grabbed her breast and my dick started to rise to the occasion. Normally, it took time.

  It wouldn’t react so quickly, especially twice in a row.

  This time, it just knew what it wanted.

  It needed her.

  I couldn’t stop sucking on her and flicking my tongue all over her body. I turned her around and slipped my cock between her legs. She whimpered. She was probably tired. But like me, she just couldn’t get enough.

  I expected her to say, stop.

  Not, “Please, put it in,” she begged as I caressed her breasts with one hand and held onto the edge of the bed. Just to go that bit deeper. Just to make sure that there was no holding back.

  “Are you sure you want this?”

  I wanted her to beg.

  “Don’t stop. Just don’t fucking stop.”

  She was screaming so fucking loud, I expected the neighbors to call the police. The bed was practically moving from one side of the room to the other as I held on so I could thrust into her deeper.

  “I want to hear you beg!”

  How bad did she want it?

  “Rogue, don’t fucking stop. Please!”

  That was enough for me to finish off. I jerked inside her a few more times before my dick gave up. I thought she would cry when I drove my entire length inside of her.

  I wanted to continue, but I was whacked. Not only that, but the crazy part was I think she drained me. But, I held out.

  I had never given up with a woman, and I wasn’t about to start doing that now. I put up a fight and it paid off.

  Pumping.

  Thrusting.

  Jerking inside of her.

  Harder each time.

  Finally, I pounded my big, fat cock into her, until the last bit of cum drained out of me.

  I slumped to the side of the bed. Both of us laughed as she did the same.

  “I didn’t know you had so much energy, Claire.”

  She laughed and said, “Neither did I.”

  Chapter Seven

  Claire

  I turned my head slowly, wondering if I was having one of those secret fantasizes again. The ones that seem so real. I shook my head as I realized that it was real. Rogue was lying on my bed with his arm wrapped around me like a blanket.

  Butt naked.

  In my bedroom.

  This wasn't supposed to happen. He would be in his room, I would be in mine, and we would live like strangers.

  This whole thing had been a mistake. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t help even have a steady relationship with a guy. No guy had even been to my damn apartment, let alone my bed, in FOUR years. How pathetic was that?

  But, this wasn’t any ordinary guy. This was Rogue. My stepbrother.

  I gasped as I felt his length brush against my thigh. He moved slightly, and I wondered if he was awake. His breathing picked up as he turned me around, and my erect nipples became aligned with his even though he was six feet tall and would tower over me if we were standing up. I held my breath as he gently pressed kisses up and down my neck. How did this man do what no other man could do to me?

  I felt so fucking confused.

  No man had ever made me feel so fucking good.

  Maybe because I had never let them.

  So, why the fuck was I letting Rogue?

  He was controlling me. In my own home. I should have told him to stop. My inner voice should have been screaming that this was wrong. This wasn’t me. This was something I hated - to ever lose control.

  Yet, all I was doing was moaning as I started to get wet. I didn’t want to. We were having sex like sex-craved monsters. I should have stayed away from Rogue. Him staying with me was a mistake.

  This was going to a new level, and I didn’t like it.

  Yet, if I didn’t, then why did he just keep making me get wet? I frowned as his kisses went down my stomach, until his head was between my legs and his hands around my ankle. He was going to territory that no man had ever been to before.

  Claire, tell him to fucking stop!

  Don’t do this!

  I opened my eyes slowly, and with my head back, I fucking screamed for my life as he tongue circled inside my pussy.

  “Don’t move,” he demanded as his tongue darted straight into my wetness. I moaned at my weakness, my constant refusal to stay as far away from this man as possible.

  I should have been trying to get my phone. Call Mom. Get ready and go to the house.

  But no, I was in bed, being fucked in all positions by Rogue.

  I took a deep breath and erased all thoughts of anything else as he gently held on to my ankles and his tongue pierced in and out of my labia. I tried to keep still to make sure that I obeyed.

  Make sure that Rogue was in command.

  If he wasn’t, he would stop.

  I was fucking kidding myself.

  I didn’t want him to stop.

  Not for one damn second!

  I struggled to keep still as I became weaker at the knees. He pressed against my clit, his tongue swirling and his lips blowing—my hormones went to a level that they never knew existed. All this time, I had gotten it so wrong. Sex was never the problem. It became crystal clear as he brought me to the edge.

  This was where I had been going wrong.

  The guy.

  The right guy.

  Someone who knew how to satisfy a woman. Rogue was the one in control; he made me climax because he wanted to. I couldn’t help myself each and every time. He kept moving slowly in and out with his tongue as his fingers teased my ankles. They gently caressed them as if every single movement he did warranted time and attention.

  I slumped on the bed like a rag doll waiting to be controlled. He swiftly moved on top of me, meaning only one thing: he wanted to go to the place that I had just been.

  It was his turn to come.

  His time to be satisfied.

  We didn’t talk about protection or if I was even on the pill. Everything that we had done was a reckless act of selfishness. We both were craving each other’s body and not worrying about the consequences.

  I moved my head to the side. He slid his tongue into my mouth. I sucked it harder as his fat cock stroked my cunt.

  All this fucking should have made me tired. I should have been dried out, not constantly getting wet, ready for action, but for some reason, with Rogue it was kind of automatic. As if my pussy just couldn’t get enough of him.

  I cleared my mind and took the pleasure that he was giving me as he entered me slowly with his length. I forgot how big he was until he thrust it in until it couldn’t fit anymore, and with one hand still on my breast, he focused on my clit with the other. His fingers stroked it as he circled his hips, my pussy becoming once again acquainted with his member.

  I wanted to scream, but I kept sucking his tongue. I started to lap it harder as his cock ground into me and my pussy cried for more. I whimpered as he withdrew his tongue from my mouth and asked, “What do you need me to do?”

  I was confused by his question. This was the second time that he had stopped. The first time was by the door. He asked, when he already knew the answer.

  This was his control technique.

  Making sure that I was ready for him.

  Wanting him.

  I smirked, thinking that I would play his game, and purred,“Pump me.”

  That wasn’t the reply he wanted, as he shook his head and said, “No. What do you need me to do?”

  I was confused by the question. I needed him to fuck me, but I didn’t want to say that. I delayed by saying something else. Rogue didn’t want to stop, so he continued to circulate his length. It went round and round. Just like my ass. He removed one hand from my breast and grabbed my ass, alternating the movement with my clit.

  With what little strength I had inside of me, I whimpered, “Hmm.”

  I needed him to fuck me, and the more I felt at one with him, the more my pussy told me not to be so stubborn and just satisfy it. It was crying, and if it could speak, it would shout it out loud and clear. He slowed his movements, making my torture feel even worse. I was frustrated and blurted out, “Fuck me.” I wanted him in deeper. I couldn’t hold on any longer.

  “Louder!” he yelled, squeezing my breast. It hurt a bit; it was painful, but it just turned me on even more.

  “Fuck me!” I yelled. My head pressed against the headboard, partly because of the force he was using, and I was fucking tired. I wasn't sure how long we’d dosed, but hadn’t eaten all day, and by the look of the darkness outside, it was late.

  He took me by surprise when he lifted himself up. His eyes were like fire as he smiled and turned me over. My ass was up in the air, as he shoved his cock inside my ass after briefly putting this thumb inside to barely ready me. As he thrust into me, I cried out louder. The louder I cried, the more his jerks roughened.

  We came, and I was exhausted and sore at the same time. As I felt his cum shoot up my spine, I cried, my tears streaking down my cheeks.

  As his length turned soft, he removed it from my ass and then lifted me up. He turned me over in the bed like a hero rescuing me from a fight. He laid me on the bed ever so gently. He wiped my tears, still present on my cheeks.

  He climbed on top of me slowly, and said, “I’m going to make love to you. This is what you need and want right now.”

  I should have denied him. I should have prevented him from torturing me like he did before. He sighed as he made his way to the bathroom to clean himself. I watched him like a frozen statue. Unable to move, waiting for him to take me as he did once before. My pussy wanted more and it knew he was willing to give it. When he made his way back, he kissed my head, then my cheeks, and finally my lips. It felt like I was kissing a totally different person.

  This person didn’t want to fuck me; he wanted me to love him as he was going to love me right now. My wetness was driving me mad. It started to flow when his length stroked my pussy. I couldn’t believe it felt this way after what he did, and I felt betrayed.

  Every part of me was letting me down: my pussy for reacting every time he touched me, my instincts for not walking out the door and telling him to fucking leave.

  This wasn’t what I signed up for.

  I wanted to help him get on the straight and narrow so that Richard could die in peace. So that I could give him his last wish.

  I felt like I was letting myself down.

  Mom down.

  And even worse, his dying dad.

  Shit, what the hell would he think of me hooking up with my stepbrother? I started to feel ashamed of myself, but then Rogue came back and rocked on top of me, all the time looking directly into my eyes with his gentle green gaze, and I ran my hand through his hair. At that moment, he kissed me as if it was the first time, and I wanted to explode.

  He was causing so many mixed emotions in my mind that I couldn’t think straight. I kissed him back with hunger as he gently entered my pussy, and my legs wrapped around him so we could be as one. He thrust gently inside me, using his hands to caress my sides, my face, and at times, to drive my head closer to his as we kissed.

  It was one of the most romantic times I had ever experienced, but then my aching pussy clenched with what felt like the last orgasm I’d ever have in my lifetime. After we finish rocking and he shot his cum in me once again, he asked, “What happened to contraceptive?”

  With my last breath I said, “Tomorrow I’ll get the morning after pill.”

  He rolled off me. I should get it today. But, I don’t have the energy to do that right now.

  Chapter Eight

  Rogue

  We woke up in the middle of the night or it could have been the early hours of the morning. Who knows? Claire had nothing in her apartment to tell the time, or even to make it comforting. So, I was at a complete loss, with an aching dick and feeling nauseous from not eating. The thumping on the door that woke us up became louder. It scared me so fucking much. Maybe Kathleen had found out where Claire lived and decided to send some goons over. Shit, why the fuck I hooked up with her at times was beyond my comprehension. She was nothing like the women I normally hooked up with. At least they were a bit polished. Kathleen could easily have passed for a badly dressed drag queen.

  I shook my head at the idea of her knowing where Claire lived or sending guys to beat me up. Then, I thought that maybe something I had done in the past had come back to haunt me and that I had put Claire in danger.

  Shit, Claire.

  The stepsister that I had always thought was so uptight was completely different to what I had expected. She had completely surrendered herself to me in the bedroom. Her bedroom. I felt like I didn’t know her at all.

  I felt her slip from underneath the covers. She didn’t say a word as she darted into the bathroom. I put on the light, and sure enough she came out in a bathrobe and scratched her head. Her hair was all over the place. She tried to straighten it and tied it up with a band. She walked as if she was in a trance. I should have said something, but the noise from the door was too damn loud.

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