Nine
Nate
So apparently kissing my stepbrother was a gateway move to letting him jerk me off. Today I’m being led further down the rabbit hole, and I’ll go wherever he wants me to as long as he keeps fingering me and touching my cock at the same time. After days of sneaking in kisses and listening for our parents’ cars, we finally have the house to ourselves for three days, and I wasted no time turning on another porno and moaning as loud as my lungs would allow. Once my mom and dad left for their trip, there was nothing in this world that was going to keep me from getting more of him.
“The more of you I have, the more I want, little brother.” He adds a second finger, slathering more lube inside me, and my toes curl. One year apart isn’t that big a difference in age, but something about him calling me that sends a fever through me. Yeah, I know it’s twisted, but I can’t control how my body responds to his sensual tone and the dominance radiating off him. It also sends a strange rush through me whenever he reminds me how forbidden and taboo this is. And they say I should be worried about him. Someone may have to lock me up because I don’t think I’m able to come anymore without my stepbrother getting me there.
And boy does he take his sweet time, slowing down his thrusts to an antagonizing pace, his fingers occasionally stopping when I’m about to spill right over the edge. He’s dragging this out for as long as he can. I’m left feeling both frustrated and more alive than I ever have before. This summer was supposed to be spent with innocent hang-outs at the movies and drinking too much at parties, not like this. But here we are, doing so many things we shouldn’t do, and with no intentions of slowing down anytime soon.
“Your sounds are so damn pretty. I love seeing you like this, all flushed and falling apart from my hands.”
“Fuck, Jace. Stop being an asshole and let me come already.”
His face turns to stone and his hand drops from my throbbing cock, his fingers still inside my trembling channel. “Not sure I should after how you just spoke to me.”
Where is this coming from? This confidence rolling off him. The cockiness and demanding tone. He takes charge so well when we’re alone like this, not backing down when I beg and cry out. I need more of this side of him. He looks so free too. Free of his burdens, self doubts, and fears. This is his game and I’m merely a chess piece he can move anywhere he pleases. He gets to set the rules and not worry about breaking them.
“Please,” I beg, my body feeling like it’s being tugged in different directions all at once when he starts driving me crazy with both hands again. He adds another finger, and it’s like a bolt of electricity strikes me from the inside when he rubs over my sweet spot on repeat.
“Go ahead and come for me, and never forget who took you there. Who can do it again and again so easily if you beg prettily enough.”
Holy fuckballs. Now I see what the big deal is—what everyone raves about. Why so many people love being fucked. This is the opposite of suffocating and walls closing in. This is breathing for the first time and being free from restrictions.
It’s as earth-shattering as they say—world tilting and riveting. He hits me there harder and I close my eyes, the lights in the room traveling behind my eyelids, creating colorful shooting rays. I’m lighting up inside, and gripped so tightly by pleasure my whole body tenses as I spurt cum all over the sheets, my ass pressing back against his hand.
Turning around, I reach for the zipper on his pants but he moves my hand to his face, his lips attacking mine. Moaning into my mouth, he runs his fingers down my crack and I don’t ever want to be anywhere else. Then it dawns on me. He’s trying to distract me from getting him off again and it was working. Pressing my hand to his chest, I force distance between us, my heart rate climbing higher.
“Why do you keep doing that?”
“What?” He plays dumb, sweeping loose strands of hair from my face, and there he goes trying to change direction again, but my mind comes right back to the question at hand.
“Why won’t you let me do the same for you?”
“Because this is about you, not me.”
“Can’t it be about both of us?” My voice cracks.
“I don’t deserve to feel good.” The corners of his lips squeeze tight.
My heart hurts at the tortured look on his face. He really believes that, doesn’t he? “What? Why would you say that?”
“Because I’ve broken so many rules already. I didn’t stay in my room last night. I ate candy before breakfast and showered for too long, wasting too much water.” He means when he showered with me. I hopped in after him yesterday the moment we were alone in the house, grabbing the loofah and washing his body from behind. Tensing up, he held my hands still and turned around, grabbing the loofah from my hands. It went from me trying to clean him to him scrubbing me in all the places that had my knees buckling.
He didn’t bother to hide his scars from me then, but he did keep forcing my eyes onto his every time I tried to look down, my gaze trailing over all his damaged skin.
I cup his face in my hands. “Oh, baby. None of those are bad things. We all do them, and there were two of us so technically we saved on water.” I press a kiss to the corner of his lips. “And I gave you the candy, so if I get to be rewarded for it then you do too.” Moving my hands slowly down his body, I undo his pants, and he doesn’t stop me this time.
His breaths quicken and his eyes are dark with arousal as I reach into his underwear, my cock stirring again when my hand comes in contact with the soft sleeve of skin. He’s uncut and fucking perfect. Tugging his underwear halfway down his hips, I lift his dick over the waistband, pushing back the skin and sliding down in the bed until my face is met with his groin. I’ve never done this before, but hopefully I’ve watched enough people do it in videos to figure it out. Either way, Jace won’t judge me, he never does, always glancing at me with eyes of wonder like he is in this moment.
Licking my lips and the shiny precum dribbling from his tip, I roll his foreskin back and forward, stroking him slowly. I lick at his swollen head, tasting him one inch at a time until he’s fully in my mouth, his salty taste hitting the back of my throat. Bobbing my head, I add a little suction, swirling my tongue as I gag a little from his rolling hips.
His eyes are closed when I look up at him, head tilted back as he moves with my mouth, his cock dragging over my tongue, and my throat restricts around him when he reaches the back of it again. I tug at him, enough to draw out another moan, and he pulls at my hair, writhing between me and the bed. “You look so good like this too. Fuck, you look good doing anything really.” He releases a hearty laugh.
I release myself from him with a pop, kissing his tip as I catch my breath and smile up at him. “And you taste so good. I want to do this to you all the time, to show you how much you deserve good things.”
“I already have them just by having you in the room with me, and I don’t even deserve it.”
“You do, and you deserve this.” I kiss his tip, trailing my lips up and down the underside of his cock. “And this.” I lightly suckle at his fat head and he arches his hips. “That too, and definitely this.” Sliding my mouth all the way down his shaft again, I move my mouth a little faster this time, burying my face in his pubes while holding my breath for too long. I let him hold me in place, taking what I want him to have, and his pleasure spills down my throat as he comes on a groan.
Letting go of my hair, he goes slack underneath me, and I rub my wet lips along his inner thigh, swallowing all of him down like a thirsty man wandering in a desert. His breaths are heavy pants, slowing down the longer we lay this way, and then he tenses.
“Oh fuck, Nate. I’m sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He lifts his head, stroking my cheek, and I smile up at him.
“No. I mean, my throat may be sore for the next few days but I’ll enjoy carrying the reminder with me.”
I crawl up his body and press my mouth to his, soaking up the dreamy look on his face—those blissed-out, dark brown eyes, and the black hair sticking to his forehead. Rewards look good on him.
He strokes my neck, smiling dopily down at me. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”
“Yeah, I did, and I can’t wait to show you how okay it is to drink your next full can of Coke.”
A chuckle breaches his lips and his mouth hovers over mine. “You’re lucky my brain is too fried for me to argue with you right now.”
“Is that all it is?” I like to think it’s a cover-up for the fact that he enjoyed what happened so much he forgot about needing to be punished. Otherwise we’re back where we started, and he’s not ready to remember that he didn’t suffer the consequences for all the bad he thinks he did yesterday or today. I’m not either, and I’ll do my best to make him forget for as long as I can.
My head is groggy when I wake up, and Jace is missing from my bed. My heart quickly falls into my stomach after realizing what he probably left to do. He didn’t get his punishments earlier. What if he woke up thinking he needed them all over again? With panic thrumming in my tight chest, I run out of my room, and a heavy weight shallows my breaths when I don’t find him in his room or the living room. A cheesy, savory smell hits my nose and I follow it to the kitchen, smiling from ear to ear when I spot him dancing in front of the stove.
Hips shaking and head bobbing from side to side, he flips food with a spatula. His tone is off-pitch as he sings the lyrics to a song I sang in choir in senior year.
“When did you wake up?”
His body stiffens and he slowly whirls his head. “Oh, you’re up. Right on time too, I’m almost finished with dinner . . . and not long.”
“Smells delicious.” My stomach rumbles louder the closer I get. “What you cooking?”
“Grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.”
“Sounds perfect.” Realizing I’m still completely naked, I grab his jacket hanging on the chair to drape over my lap as I lower myself into the seat.
“It’s something quick and easy,” he says, carrying the food over to the table, one plate after the other. I’m already chowing down on a sandwich by the time he sits beside me and pulls his food closer.
“So, Layla invited me over to her house for karaoke night. She promised only a handful of people would be there. Wanna go?”
His shoulders lift slightly and he sets his food back down. “I don’t know. I’d much rather finish off this can of Coke and see what happens when I do.” His brows waggle and I laugh.
“You know . . .” I slide my chair closer to his, moving one of his hands under the jacket and between my legs. “I think I like your idea better too.”
Those first brushes of his fingers are enough to send me into overdrive, and I’m practically turning to goo in my chair when he latches his mouth around one of my nipples, tossing the jacket to the ground. I’m his reward, and he shows me this by the way he touches me—with kisses trailing my body and fingers pressing to my pucker. Lifting me up onto the table, he lays me back, grabs my thighs, and shoves his face between my cheeks. His hot tongue lapping at my seam and fingers tugging on my cock confuses my body about what direction to move in.
Settling on both, I roll my hips, tingles licking at my skin with each dart of his tongue. He goes from slow to fast, feasting on me like a damn second breakfast. I never knew this could feel so good, and was too self-conscious to fully enjoy it at first, no longer caring when the sensation spreads over me like hot lava. I arch my hips, fucking into his hand before pressing my ass to his face, chasing his hungry tongue.
I’m okay with being the center of attention right now because I can tell by his moans and the vibrations of his mouth that he’s getting as much from this as I am. Then he does something I don’t expect. With a low growl, he zips down his pants, sliding his jeans and underwear down in one swoop. Pinning me to the table, his cock grinds over mine, his tongue driving into my mouth. His hips move too fast for mine to keep up, skin rubbing over skin, his fingers tightening around both of us. Built-up pleasure explodes inside me the more we rub together, his cock head sweeping harder against mine. I combust, cum spurting between us, and he doesn’t stop using me to get off until he’s covering me with his own release.
Eyes bloodshot, his mouth lolls, and there’s that goofy smile I love so much. “Fuck, that was good.”
“Yeah,” I rasp, smearing our cum together on my skin, and he grabs hold of my wrists, guiding my hand to his mouth. My breath hitches as he licks at my fingers, his tongue swirling over each one to collect every drop, tasting us together.
When we’re both able to feel our legs again, he helps me off the table and we shower together. We spend the majority of it holding each other under the warm spray, and he finally lets me wash him, holding his breath while I run the washcloth over his last cut. It’s nearly healed, meaning it’s been days since he’s done it. Wanting to keep the streak going, I keep the rewards coming for the rest of the day and night.
I explore his body with my mouth after we go for a walk for hours outside, rewarding him for getting some much needed exercise. We share another joined hand job, me doing the brunt of the work this round, after we binge a whole season of Dawson’s Creek . The night ends with us cuddling on the couch and playing Mario Kart.
Staying up late warrants another reward, and I know he’s already gotten it in a different way when he can’t stop laughing. His smiles stay with me as I close my eyes, snuggling closer to his chest. My breaths even out with his and no nightmares wake him during the night. I wish I could offer him peaceful sleep like this all the time.