Chapter 11 Stepmonster #2
It's a lie. I fucking love that shit—I especially love how it torments Saige. I just don't want to have a fucking conversation right now.
Blythe turns, following my eyes, and then looks back at me, and I watch it click for her.
And I see it. She's fucking grossed out, too. Like Kira and her friends…and like Saige.
"Oh, shit," she says and then sits on the bench next to me. "Are you in love with your stepsister?"
I shrug. "Yep."
"Wow…how's that going for you?"
"It could be better."
"I bet." She laughs a little, but I don't think it's funny. "I mean, I knew there was something wrong with you, but I didn't think it was that."
"Yeah, well, thanks." But really, she has no idea what's wrong with me. My obsession with Saige is just a symptom, and the rest of the girls on campus are probably lucky I was too fixated on her to shift my focus onto them.
Saige would probably tell them that herself. Miles and his ex-fiancé could, too. I need another fucking drink.
Dax slides into the booth beside Nolan before pulling Saige into his lap. "I got you a beer, too," he says, sliding one across the table.
Damn it. "Thanks," I grumble.
"Well, it's been fun," Blythe says. "Have a good night. Nice to see you, Saige."
"Yeah, you, too," she tells her.
"What's with the face?" Dax asks me.
"I'm not making a face."
"Yeah, you're making a face. What happened? Bad practice? Are they still unwilling to let West Pine Batman shine?"
"I don't shine."
"Sure you do. You're very shiny."
I shake my head. I can't really tell him I'm in a bad mood because I want my stepsister to sit on my lap with her hand on the back of my neck.
"I saw you moved back in, Saige."
"Yeah. It's just temporary…is that a problem?"
"Of course not; I want you there. Why would it be a problem?"
I reach across the table for her hand, lacing her fingers with mine. She finally meets my eyes, but only for a second before she pulls her hand away and grabs her drink, bringing it to her lips.
I miss her lips. I fucking hate that she has the ability to make me feel this—this longing, this…inadequacy. But I can't escape it. I gave it space and time, and neither worked. I have to have her. And if I can't, then…
They can't fucking have her, either.
"I'm kind of tired," Saige says. "Can we go home?"
"Sure," Dax says. "Are you guys ready to go?"
Part of me is relieved; I never really wanted to be here in the first place. But there's another part that's angry, because I'm pretty sure Saige isn't tired—she's just uncomfortable being seen with me.
We stop at a taco truck on the way back, and when we get home, Dax turns on the television, and we all eat in the living room.
And it's like a switch flips. Saige looks at me again. She smiles when I joke around with her. When she goes to the kitchen to make another drink, I pretend I need one, too, and she lets me kiss her. She doesn't cringe when I touch her.
"Saige, I really need to talk to you," I say as she returns to her spot, cuddled up on the couch in her pajamas between Nolan and Dax.
"Okay. About what?"
"Can we go upstairs? Please?"
I realize she hasn't been in my bedroom since Halloween, and I'm pretty sure that's where her mind goes. "Why?"
"It's not that serious; I promise."
"Can it wait?"
"It's okay, Saige," Nolan says. "You should go."
It annoys the fucking shit out of me, but it fucking works. She gets up and follows me upstairs to my room. I sit on the bed while she sits across from me in the desk chair.
"What do you want to talk about?"
I take her hands in mine. "Come here, Saige."
"Why?"
"I want to hold you; is that so terrible?"
"It's not really like you."
My brow furrows. "That's not true, is it? I've held you, Saige. Anything they can do for you, I can do, too."
I pull her into my lap, and she wraps her arms around me, burying her face in my neck. I run my fingers through her hair and then down her spine, feeling her fill her lungs.
Each day, I get more desperate for this. If she can't love me, I don't think I could bear it.
"You wouldn't let me touch you at the bar."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yeah, you do, Saige. You treated me like a stranger you wanted to shake off."
Or worse…like a brother.
She pulls back and presses her forehead to mine. "I think it was in your head, Elias."
And then she leans in, kissing me. I realize she's trying to distract me. She's never this fucking nice to me. She knows she's lying.
I twist her hair around my fist and pull her hair back. "Nice try," I tell her before laying her down onto the bed with me. "It wasn't in my head." I slide my hand inside her shirt, resting it against her stomach. "Nolan saw it, too—you cringed. You're not cringing now."
She hesitates before answering. "It's weird, Elias. I mean, even you must realize that."
"I don't realize it. It's not weird for me." Or maybe I know it is, but I just like it that way. "I need you to get over it. I want to be able to touch you and kiss you. I want you wearing my jersey at my games and hanging on my arm afterward. I need you to be mine."
"It's not that easy, Elias. It doesn't work like that."
"Why not? You like it when I touch you, Saige."
"Because I don't know how I feel about it! I don't know if I can get used to it, even if I do try. It is weird, Elias. I'm sorry. I know I'm risking your fucking wrath when I say that—"
"Saige, I love you. I'm not—there's no wrath."
"But I get this feeling in my gut, and I can feel people staring…"
"Why do you care what they think?"
"They're not judging you like they're judging me. That's just how it is, and you know that. And I care what our parents think…"
"They'll get over it."
"What if they don't? And how long is this even going to last? Is it worth it to put myself through it for something temporary?"
"We're not temporary. You're mine, Saige; this is forever." I trace her jawline with my finger. "You already have to tell them you have two boyfriends, anyway. What's one more?"
"Elias…" She sighs, shaking her head. "That's not helping."
"I'm sorry, baby," I say softly, pressing my lips to hers. "I thought you'd think it was funny."
"It's not. I don't like talking about this."
"Well, why the fuck not? I just want to be with you. Is that so terrible? Does it make me sick and twisted like you said? Am I a monster, Saige?"
She touches my face before pushing her fingers through my hair, and I close my eyes. "Yes," she says. "But you're my monster."
She grabs the collar of my shirt, using it to bring my mouth to hers, opening to allow my tongue to slip past her lips. I pull her leg over my hip, and then slip my fingers inside her pajamas, and then into her underwear.
"You're always so fucking wet for me, Saige," I say before pushing my fingers inside her. "Can you hear it? If I'm a monster, what does that make you?"
She gasps. "Prey."
"You know, I think I like that." It's accurate, at least. I circled her for long enough. I caught her; I claimed her. I made her mine.
My obsession. My victim. My prey. Just mine. Wet for me, moaning for me, taking my cock and my cum any way I want to give it to her—mine.
"I can't wait to sink my dick into you. It's all I can think about, and it drives me fucking crazy."
"Elias…" she moans as I fuck her with my fingers.
"You don't like talking, but you're going to let me fuck you however I want, aren't you?" I slide my thumb over her soft, wet pussy and begin circling her clit. "You're sick and twisted, too, aren't you, Saige? That's why your pussy's soaked."
"Yes…" She slips her hand into the front of my pants, wrapping it around my dick. "I want you to fuck me…fuck."
Her other hand grabs my arm, her nails digging into my skin while she whimpers against my shoulder.
I rub her clit faster. "Your legs are shaking, baby. Is this what you're so worried about? People finding out that your stepbrother makes your legs shake like this?"
"Yes…I don't want them to know. Oh, god!" she cries, her pussy squeezing around my fingers. I slip my other hand inside her top, pinching her nipple while she comes, and she yelps. "Elias!"
"Feels good, doesn't it, baby? You're such a good girl for letting me make you come like this. Does it still feel wrong? Does it make you feel dirty?"
"Yes!"
She lies back on the mattress, gasping for breath while I grab the waistband of her shorts and underwear, working them down her hips before tossing them aside and positioning myself between her legs.
And then I slide into her soaked pussy, relishing her cries when I stretch her, the way she squeezes my dick, the way her back arches.
I push her shirt up so I can watch her tits bounce while I fuck my cock into her.
My stepsister shouldn't have a body like this—shouldn't have a pussy that feels this fucking good, and she never should have fucking kept it from me for this long.
It makes me want to fucking choke her until she sees stars behind her eyes.
But she climbed into my bed and spread her legs without a fight this time. She admitted she was weak for my dick, and I think that deserves a little praise. Doesn't mean I won't take it out on her pussy, though.
Bracing myself with my fists on either side of her body, I fuck into her hard, watching while she takes every inch of my dripping wet dick. Her head slams into the headboard, but she doesn't complain—she just moans my name.
She's so fucking wet, it slips out, and I curse, gritting my teeth while wrapping my fist around it before fucking into her again at the same brutal pace.
Saige lifts her hips, wrapping a leg around me, her heel digging into my back while her nails rake down my biceps.
"Oh, my god…oh, god. Don't stop," she moans.
"You think I'm going to stop? I'm not stopping until you're dripping with my cum."
"Fuck…I can't…Ah!"
She cries out, writhing beneath me while she comes. I gather her hair in my fist, pulling before leaning in to tell her what a good fucking girl she is.
"See how good it feels to give in, baby? I know you need it just as much as I do. I need your tight little pussy wrapped around my dick like this, and you need to come on it. You're being so good for your big brother…"
"Elias, don't…"
"What's wrong, baby? Don't you want to be a good sister for me?"
"I…yes," she whimpers.
"Say it, then."
"I want to be a good sister."
One corner of my mouth turns up. Her cheeks burn with shame while she cries out with each thrust, and it makes my dick fucking throb.
I'm so fucking close. She averts her eyes, and I use that hand in her hair to bring them back to me.
"Look at me, little sister," I growl, holding her gaze while my dick pulses inside her sweet pussy, filling her with cum. "Ah, fuck, Saige."
Once my dick finally stops throbbing, and I'm sure I've given her every fucking drop of the cum she deserves, I pull out, kneeling beside her. "Clean up your mess, baby."
She licks and sucks our cum from my dick, and then I lie down, swinging my arm and leg over her.
"You know, you could have saved yourself from a lot of pain and suffering if you'd just crawled into my bed and spread your legs two years ago."
Her eyebrows shoot up. "You really are a monster."
"But I'm your monster, baby." I press my lips to hers. "Do you want to hear something fucked up?"
"No," she says. "If you think it's fucked up, I'm sure I don't want to know what it is." She runs her fingers through my hair. "Keep it an inside thought."
"Unfortunately for you, you're trapped under my body, so I'm going to tell you, anyway. I've thought about you every time I came since the night we met."
"I don't really want to think about that, Elias. I mean, don't you remember what you were doing to me then?"
"Yes," I tell her. "I was making you mine. I didn't realize it at the time, but that's what happened, isn't it? Because now look at you—I think you're fucking perfect."
Saige shakes her head. "That is fucked up."
"You know you like it. You'll feel better if you just say it." I lean in, kissing her before nipping at her lower lip.
"Ow! I'm not saying that."
"That's okay. You will, eventually."
"Yeah, well. Don't hold your breath…or maybe do."
"Will you stay with me tonight?"
"I haven't really unpacked…"
"So? You can do that tomorrow. I want to sleep next to you."
She sighs. "Yeah…okay."
Long after she falls asleep, I lie awake in the dark room, watching her breathe. I never had trouble sleeping before she moved in, and then all I could think about was how to make her mine.
I have her—I think. But there are too many variables, and I don't know how to keep her.
And I have to keep her. She's still my obsession—my fucking addiction. I'll never get enough of her.
She's my comfort victim.
I roll over and grab my phone from the nightstand, intending to doomscroll through my insomnia. Maybe I'll send a message to that fucking bitch Kira and scare her into backing the fuck off.
But when I unlock the phone, I have an email…from the head coach at Toronto Central University, asking if I'm tired of wasting my talent on the bench at West Pine, and if I'm ready to join a real hockey team instead.
My first thought is no. I can't leave her. But then I look at the girl sleeping beside me and realize this could solve all of our fucking problems.
Instantly, I draft a reply, telling him I'm very interested in seeing what their organization has to offer and what my schedule looks like.
With one stipulation—I need two plane tickets. One for me, and one for my girlfriend.