Unleashed (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance) (18 page)

Every time I think he can’t possibly get any worse, he somehow manages to top himself.

Every single time.

It doesn’t even offend me. Well, that’s a lie. It does, and it does hurt a little, but fuck him, I really don’t care what he thinks, and I’m done with him.

“Fuck you, Chance.”

I walk off, quicker, pushing him away as I pass by him. The feel of his hard chest on my palms lingers and tingles. It’s like I can still feel his body heat in my hands.

A moment passes, and I keep walking, but I feel like I’m walking the plank. I feel like I’m crossing a tightrope without a harness. I feel like I’m waiting for something…

“But they
should
want to,” he calls from behind me.

I stop, wondering if I heard him correctly. I turn around slowly, and see him walking toward me. He’s closing the distance between us in powerful strides, and I am just rooted to the floor, breathing quickly, my heart racing, wondering what’s going to happen next.

And then he holds my face in his huge, strong hands, and he kisses me. It’s not just any kiss. He crushes my lips against his. There’s no tongue at first, he just kisses my lips, and before I know it, I’ve dropped my things, and I’m holding onto his broad back, and I’m kissing him back.

Not just any kiss. I’m crushing my lips against his, and I’m moaning into his mouth, and I’m sending my tongue deep inside.

I can feel his hot breath on me, and then he’s kissing down my neck, and I’m gripping onto his hair, and his hands are rounding my waist and on my ass and he gives my cheeks a squeeze. Unconsciously, I push my hips into his, and I’m startled to feel his hardness through his jeans.

Our kiss breaks, and I look down, and I can
see him
, see his desire pushing against denim. I can’t believe I’m kissing him. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

It’s like I’m not myself.

I pull him down onto the sand, and he sits behind me, wraps his arms around me, and I push back against his body as he kisses the back of my neck.

His hot breath makes my hairs stand on end, and shivers run down my body from head to toe at his every touch. His fingers leave trails of fire all over me.

I crane my neck to the side, seek out his lips. This is my first time kissing a boy, and I barely know what I’m doing, but it’s like he guides me, teaches me. I grin as I kiss him, feeling a surge in excitement, enjoyment. Butterflies rage in my belly, and there a yearning starts to grow as well.

“Slower,” he whispers at me, breaking our kiss for just an instant. I follow his lead, and our rhythm aligns perfectly, and our tongues dance, and it’s just one of the best feelings ever. His lips are surprisingly soft, and he’s forceful, even a little rough, but it’s good, it feels good.

His hands are hungry, groping, squeezing me, and I turn my head to the side and he takes my lips again, and while he’s kissing me, while we’re tonguing each other, while I’m practically hyperventilating into his mouth, he’s running his hand slowly south, over my belly, and under my summer dress.

I want to stop him. I don’t want to give in to him. But, oh God, I
don’t
want him to stop. He begins to rub the inside of my thigh, squeeze it in his big and powerful hands, inching ever slightly upward, toward my molten center.

And I know I’m so turned on. I can feel it, the tightness in my belly, the fullness at the juncture of my thighs. I even become aware of the wetness in my underwear pressing back against me when he suddenly cups my sex.

I gasp, feeling the heat of his palm radiate into my core, and then he’s rubbing me through my underwear, and all I’m doing is pushing my head back into him, arching my back, stretching out like a cat in the sun.

Somehow, I don’t care that we’re on a public beach in broad daylight, that anybody could walk by at any instant, and see us! It’s a small town, everybody knows everybody, and I
just don’t care
.

Somehow, I’ve been immunized to modesty. My body
craves
his touch,
yearns
for completion at his touch, and I’m powerless to prevent my physical urges from taking control of me, from dictating my every reaction.

And so I give in. I let him touch me in my most private place. I let him take from me what he wants because, right now, right at this very moment, it’s what I want.

He takes my earlobe into his mouth and sucks on it, bites it. I hear him smell me, then feel the press of his lips against that bit of my neck that becomes my shoulder.

I shiver when I feel his warm tongue there, when I feel the bite of his teeth there. It’s like he’s marking me, claiming me, making me his.

My hands go unconsciously to his knees, and I’m gripping onto them, feeling hard muscle, and I’m somehow able to see the image of his thighs in my mind, naked, thrusting into me, tensing and flexing as he buries himself deep inside me.

I moan and I writhe and I undulate my body. I’m making noises I’ve never made before, and I’m doing something I’ve never done before.

His fingers are playing me like an instrument, plucking strings buried deep inside me, granting me these glimpses at such intense pleasure I know it will make the world melt away around me.

And then he finally stops teasing me. I feel his fingers slip beneath the elastic, and his hot flesh is on mine, right in my center.

There’s this great swell of nervous anticipation in me, and my heart is hammering in my chest, and the roar of racing blood in my ears drowns out the sounds of the sea and the birds.

It’s just me and him, his breath on my neck, his fingers on my sex, and my moans on the wind.

He pushes a finger inside me and I grip onto his legs even harder. He angles it upward, rubs the front of inside me, and I feel so, so good. He pushes a second finger into me, and I feel myself stretch around him, and he’s still also somehow working my clit, and it’s just all too much.

I’m gripping onto his leg like it’s for dear life, and he settles into a quick rhythm, and I feel myself climbing higher and higher, getting closer and closer to the edge.

I feel his tongue on the back of my neck again, feel his bite, hear him smell me.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he says between bites. “Only you.”

He’s doing what he wants to me, making me gasp and groan and thrash and writhe. He’s making me curl my toes in my shoes, grip his knees until my knuckles go white.

He’s making me lose myself.
This is not me!

It’s like a big spring is inside me, coiling up, tightening and tightening, just waiting to be sprung. I can feel it in my belly, and I’ve never felt anything like this before. I can’t help but smile as I writhe and as I moan, as he plucks strings of pleasure so deep within me, strings I never knew existed.

“Shit,” I gasp, inching closer and closer to my eventual crisis. “Don’t stop!” I mewl. “Don’t stop!”

I cross the line, I tighten up, my body flexes, and white-hot ecstasy crashes over me.

I suck in air, hold my breath, squeeze around his fingers. I feel pleasure explode inside me, radiate out of me, and I’m in heaven. I’m soaring, in orbit. It’s all I can see… blinding.

I shake and I shudder, keep clenching around him, and he drives me through it, keeps it going. I’m pressing my whole body into his, loving every moment of this, loving that I’m in his arms, that he’s making me feel so good.

And then I’ve passed the peak, and I’m coming down the other side, and my whole body feels weak, and I’ve never felt so satisfied in my life.

I’m panting, hot, cheeks and neck reddened. I lift my arm up behind me, wrap my hands around his head, thread my fingers through his hair, and hold his head against me.

He kisses me, pulls his fingers from me. I squirm, super sensitive, and see my pleasure all over him. He lifts his hand to his mouth and sucks me off him, and then he growls into my ear, “I could taste you every day.”

And that’s when it comes crashing back, barging through my heated thoughts, knocking my desires out of its way, the cold force of brutal reality.

A little voice inside my head is screaming at me:
You idiot!