2. Jones #2
The challenge in her voice is unmistakable. Chin jutting forward, blue eyes blazing, every line of her body daring me to say no.
My growl tears from my chest before I can stop it. The sight of her standing there naked in my office, chin lifted like she’s daring the world to disappoint her, snaps the last thread of my control.
I close the distance in one stride. My hands find her face, tilt it up, and my mouth crashes down on hers in a kiss that tastes like frustration and months of denial.
She meets me with equal force, lips parting, tongue sliding against mine, and the wet heat of her mouth drags another rough sound from my throat.
Her bare skin presses against my clothed chest. The contrast burns. I lift her without breaking the kiss, her small frame easy in my arms, legs wrapping around my waist like they belong there.
The edge of the desk hits the backs of her thighs as I lay her down across the dark wood. Papers scatter. I don’t care.
I drop to my knees between her spread legs. The position puts her pussy right at eye level, pink and glistening and completely untouched. The scent of her hits me—warm, feminine, addictive. My beard brushes the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as I lean in.
“Been thinking about tasting this sweet pussy since the day I saw you at that wedding.” The words come out low, rough. “My stubborn little stepsister, walking around like you don’t know what you do to me.”
She shudders at the word stepsister. Her thighs tense around my shoulders. I don’t give her time to overthink it. I drag my tongue up her slit in one long, slow lick and the flavor of her explodes across my tongue—tart and sweet and so uniquely Anya that my cock throbs painfully against my zipper.
A broken noise escapes her. Her hips jerk. I pin them down with one forearm across her lower belly, holding her exactly where I want her, and I feast.
My tongue circles her clit, then flicks it directly. She gasps, hands flying to my hair, fingers twisting in the longer strands at the crown of my head. I suck the small bud between my lips, alternating pressure until her breathing turns ragged.
Every sound she makes feeds the fire in my veins. I want to hear her come apart on my tongue before I give her anything else.
“Jones—oh god.” Her voice cracks.
I pull back just enough to speak against her wet flesh. “That’s right. Say my name while I eat my stepsister’s cunt. Been hard for you for a year, Anya. A whole damn year of watching you blush and square those shoulders and pretend you aren’t dripping for your big brothers.”
She cries out when I push my tongue inside her. The tight heat clenches around the intrusion. Her walls flutter, trying to pull me deeper.
I fuck her with my tongue in shallow thrusts, nose pressed against her clit, beard scraping her thighs with every movement. Her heels dig into my back. The pain only makes me hungrier.
I slide two fingers into her alongside my tongue, stretching her open. She’s so tight it borders on impossible.
The thought of my cock fitting in there later sends another pulse of raw want through me. I crook my fingers, searching, and when I find the spot that makes her thighs clamp around my ears, I focus everything on it.
Her hips fight my hold. She grinds against my face, chasing the pleasure I’m giving her. I can feel her getting close, the way her pussy starts to pulse around my fingers, the way her breaths turn short and desperate.
I pull my mouth off her clit with a wet sound.
“Not yet.” My voice sounds wrecked even to my own ears. “You don’t come until my cock is inside you. I want to feel that virgin pussy squeezing me when you fall apart.”
I stand. My hands work my belt open, the leather whispering as it slides through the loops. The zipper sounds obscenely loud in the quiet office.
My cock springs free, thick and heavy and already leaking at the tip. Her eyes drop to it. The flush on her cheeks deepens, but she doesn’t look away.
I fist myself once, twice, spreading the wetness over the head.
“See what you do to me? This cock has been aching to fill you since you walked into this building this morning. Since before that. Since the wedding when you wore that blue dress and looked at me like you wanted to argue with every word out of my mouth.”
I notch the head of my cock against her entrance. She’s soaked, but still so small. I push forward a fraction. The tight ring of muscle resists.
Her breath hitches. Her hands fly to my forearms, nails digging in.
I freeze. “Look at me.”
Her blue eyes snap up to mine. They’re glassy with need but clear enough that I know she’s still with me.
“Tell me if it’s too much. I stop when you say stop. Understand?”
She nods, then seems to remember words exist. “I understand. Just… don’t stop completely.”
The corner of my mouth twitches despite the gravity of the moment. Stubborn even now.
I rock forward again, feeding her another inch. Her walls clamp down around the head of my cock like a vise. The heat of her is unreal. I grit my teeth and hold still, giving her time.
Sweat beads at my temples. Every instinct screams to drive forward, to bury myself to the hilt and rut into her until neither of us can think.
Instead I watch her face. Every flicker of discomfort, every flutter of her lashes. When she winces, I pull back slightly, then ease forward again, working my way in with shallow rocks of my hips.
“You’re doing so good for me.” The praise slips out before I can weigh it. “Taking your stepbrother’s cock like you were made for it. This tight little pussy is going to milk me dry. I’m going to fill you up until you’re dripping with me.”
She moans at the words. Her inner muscles relax a fraction, letting me slide another inch deeper. Progress. I keep talking, voice dropping lower with every breath.
“Been dreaming about putting a baby in you, Anya. Right here on this desk. Watching your belly swell with my child while you organize my files and glare at me across the wing. You’d look so fucking pretty carrying my baby. Everyone would know exactly who fucked you full.”
Her eyes widen. A fresh rush of wetness coats my cock. The reaction punches the air from my lungs. She likes it. The filthy idea of me breeding her lights her up from the inside.
I push deeper. Halfway in now. Her walls flutter and squeeze in a rhythm that tests every ounce of my control. I lean over her, one hand braced beside her head on the desk, the other cupping her face. My thumb traces her lower lip.
“Breathe, sweet stepsister. Let me in. Let me give you every inch so I can fuck a baby into this perfect womb.”
She exhales shakily. I feel her try to relax. Another inch. Then another. The drag of her virgin pussy along my cock is exquisite torture. Pressure and heat and the wet sounds of her body accepting mine fill the office.
When I finally seat myself to the hilt, balls pressed against her ass, we both go still. Her chest heaves against mine. My forehead drops to hers. We share the same ragged breaths for several heartbeats.
“So fucking tight.” My voice comes out hoarse. “Like you were waiting for me. This pussy has never had anyone else, has it? Just mine…for now.”
I start to move. Slow, careful drags out and back in, letting her adjust to the stretch. The desk creaks under us. Her legs wrap tighter around my waist, heels digging into my ass like she’s trying to pull me even deeper.
The pace feels torturous. Every slide of my cock through her tight channel drags me closer to the edge. Her tits bounce with each measured thrust. I can’t resist. I cup one, thumbing the stiff nipple, rolling it between my fingers until she arches.
“Harder.” The word falls from her lips like a command. “Faster, Jones. I need?—”
I snap my hips forward, cutting off whatever else she meant to say. The new angle drags a sharp cry from her throat. I set a punishing rhythm, fucking her deep and hard across the surface of my desk.
The sound of skin slapping skin echoes off the walls. Her wetness coats my balls, drips down to the wood beneath her.
“That’s it.” I growl the words against her neck, teeth scraping her pulse point. “Take it. Take your stepbrother’s cock like the stubborn fuck you are. This pussy was made for breeding. I’m going to pump you so full of my come you’ll be pregnant by morning.”
Her nails rake down my back through my shirt. The sting feels perfect. I shift my weight, changing the angle again until I’m grinding against her clit with every thrust. She starts to meet me, hips rising to slam against mine.
I knead her breast roughly, then bend lower to capture the nipple in my mouth. I suck hard, tongue flicking the tight bud in time with my hips. Her back bows off the desk. The new position lets me get even deeper.
My free hand snakes between us. My thumb finds her clit, swollen and slippery. I circle it with firm pressure, then rub side to side exactly how her body seems to crave.
“Gonna come on my cock, Anya? Gonna let me feel this virgin pussy clamp down while I fill you? Tell me you want my baby. Tell me you want your big brother to knock you up right here where you work.”
Her walls start to flutter wildly around me. The rhythmic squeeze nearly undoes me. I keep thrusting, keep working her clit, keep sucking at her nipple like I could pull an orgasm from her with sheer force of will.
Her voice breaks on my name. “Jones— I— oh fuck?—”