10
MICKY
I know I’m dreaming when the bed shifts behind me, and Ellie’s voice whispers ‘sssshhh’ close to my ear. I know I’m dreaming because there’s no way my stepsister would slip into my room and slide her hand over my abs and up my chest like she’s reading braille.
“What?” I say, blinking in the darkness. Flashes of my shadowed room hit my vision as Ellie snuggles closer, her breast pressing against my back.
“We have to be quiet,” she whispers. “My mom is a light sleeper.”
I blink again, my mind whirring over the fact that Ellie’s voice in my dream is as clear as it would be in real life. And her fingers on my skin feel as real as they would if this wasn’t a crazy, vivid sex fantasy.
“What?” I say again; my voice is so husky that it hurts my dream-throat.
“Micky,” she says, her lips pressing against my neck. “You made me come so hard in that closet. Now it’s my turn.”
Fuck. Fuck. My balls draw tight, my cock already hardening. I’m too old to have a wet dream , I think, shifting against the too-warm mattress.
Blinking again, I see the time on the clock on my nightstand; one-fifty-three am. The middle of the fucking night. I suck in a long, whooshing breath as I finally come awake enough to realize that this isn’t a dream. I’m not asleep. I’m just dozy as fuck and too delirious to register the amazing truth. That Ellie is really in my bed, and her hand is really trailing over places that are coming to life with shivery anticipation.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “Stop.” My hand grips her wrist tightly, a reflex that hits me through the confusion.
“What?” she says as I roll quickly to face her. “Don’t you want me to?”
Even in the darkness, I can see the mortified expression on her face. She had the courage to slip between my sheets almost naked, but now she’s worried she’s gone too far. Before she has time to mentally travel further in the wrong direction, I press my lips to hers. It takes a few seconds for her to register what’s happening. I release her wrist as I tease my mouth over hers, my hands exploring the soft warmth of her body.
Damn. I know I’ve already had my tongue between her legs, but I missed the awesomeness of the build-up. I skipped the exploration of her body, and I will not make the same mistake twice.
Fuck what Colby keeps saying about us having to deny what we want. Fuck always having to do the right thing.
This can’t be wrong when it feels so right.
“Micky,” she whispers as I pull back long enough to check she’s into this.
“Ellie, baby,” I murmur against her neck, pushing away all the questions I want to ask her. Why me? Why now? Why the change of heart? With her warm breast in my palm, I don’t want to risk anything destroying this moment.
Ellie tastes too good, and as she trails her hands down my back until her palms are resting at the curve of my glutes, I can’t focus anymore.
I have to hear those little whimpering sounds she made in the closet. I have to feel her trembling thighs clutched around my face, taste her arousal, and feel the pulsing of her pleasure against my tongue.
My big hands search out her slender wrists and force her arms to the bed next to her head. I loom over her, taking in her parted lips and wide eyes as I nudge her thighs apart with my knees.
“I made you come once,” I say, my voice still husky with sleep. “I want to do it again.”
She nods, and that’s all the encouragement I need. In a flash, I’m shoving at the sheet that’s covering us and sliding down her body. The negligee she’s wearing isn’t something I’ve seen before. Pink, with pretty lace at the hem. It’s something a woman would wear for a boyfriend, not around the house in front of parents and stepbrothers. It’s something Ellie put on especially to come and sneak into my room. It’s something she’s worn just for me.
When I push it up, I find she has left her underwear behind.
Shit.
Sexy nightwear and no panties. Ellie is my perfect woman, real, warm, and already shivering with anticipation.
I’m torn between rushing and taking my time because of where we are and who’s asleep in rooms separated only by thin walls. I can’t imagine that Ellie locked my door on her way in, either. The locks in this house are clunky and loud. The risk would have been too great.
But as I kiss over the curve of her belly, already scenting her arousal, going fast becomes impossible. Making this woman moan is my sole focus. Building up to her pleasure is what I need. Proving that she made the right decision when she came to my bed is my mission.
Her legs are slack with anticipation as I rest my rough palms against her soft thighs. There’s no resistance as I use my thumbs to spread her pussy, finding soft, wet flesh, just begging for my tongue.
A shiver of anticipation runs up my spine, and my balls tighten in readiness for what my body hopes is coming.
Ellie’s body shifts under my palms impatiently.
Leaning closer, I brush her sweet clit with the tip of my nose, using my tongue to find her tight little hole. Shit. This is so much better than the closet. No need to rush. No awkward angles. Knowing it’s Ellie whose body is opening and quivering at my touch.
She tastes as I remember. Sweet with a side of eagerness, as desperate to come as I am to make her. It’s then that I realize why she chose me first. I’m a known entity—a guaranteed orgasm. If I could work out her body in seven minutes in the darkness of a closet, I’ll have no trouble playing her like a maestro in my bed.
I smile as I run my tongue along her folds, searching out the tight bud of her clit. She whimpers as her hand grips my hair. It’s like she doesn’t know whether to push me closer or pull me away. More would feel so good, but more could also be too much. It’s always fascinated me how pleasure and pain exist in such proximity. Even more how one can be triggered by the other.
“Don’t worry,” I murmur, flicking my tongue. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”
“Please,” she gasps, and I can’t help but blink with shock in the inky darkness. Ellie isn’t the kind of girl I ever imagined begging for anything. She’s tough and a little frosty, always on the defensive. She’s a person who never shows her feelings but would kill for her friends and family. It just shows how different someone can be once they’ve surrendered to losing their tough outer shell.
“It’s okay, baby,” I whisper. “Just lay back and relax, and I’ll take care of everything.”
It’s as though I’ve uttered the secret code, the open sesame to Ellie’s metaphorical cave. Her legs drop further open, and her hand leaves the mess of my hair and flops to rest on the pillow by her head. She surrenders entirely to my ministrations, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.
I love eating out. There’s so much power in taking a woman to the point where she’s clawing and incoherent, leaving her hanging at that moment between tension and release. The vulnerability that comes after when their thoughts aren’t quite their own is amazing, too.
I feast on Ellie’s body, using my mouth and my fingers, twisting inside her while I tease her most sensitive place, watching her body undulate and her eyelids flutter, watching her get ready to tumble over the edge into oblivion. I savor every moment because who knows if this is a one-off or if she’s planning on making midnight visits to my room a regular thing? And when her thighs clamp tightly around my head and fingers almost tear my hair from its roots, I know I’ve given her what she came for. What I don’t know is if that’s it. Will she get up now and leave?
My cock is like an iron bar between my thighs. Whether she goes or stays, he’s going to require some attention.
Climbing over her, I press kisses above her navel and between her breasts, feeling the heaving of her ribcage as she pants for air. I watch every second of the aftermath of a very spectacular orgasm, and I don’t give a fuck if I sound like an arrogant douchebag. There are many things a man needs to know about life. How to walk into a room with presence, give a firm handshake, and open a bottle of champagne, but nothing is more important than how to make a woman’s knees turn to jelly.
When Ellie’s eyes open, she stares up at me as though she’s seeing me for the first time.
“Oh my god,” she whispers. Her hand touches my cheek and explores my features, mapping the hills and plains.
“That good, huh?”
“You have no idea.” She blinks her pretty eyes, and long lashes cast dancing shadows across her cheeks.
“The pleasure was all mine,” I say.
“I doubt that.” As if to illustrate her point, her hand finds my rock-hard dick and squeezes it enough to make my eyes roll.
“You don’t have to,” I say softly as she strokes me with more purpose.
“Oh, I do. I really do.”
Her words are like music to my ears.