Unleashed: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance Part 13

Huh, I only just figured it out.

His d.i.c.k moves in my hand a I didn't know men could do that! a and a droplet of pre-c.u.m forms at the tip of his c.o.c.k.

So I lick it up.

The moment my tongue touches his c.o.c.k, his abs crunch, and a s.h.i.+ver runs down his body. I look up into his eyes, see in them a fiery depth of yearning for me.

I tease him, lick up the back of his c.o.c.k, slowly jerk him with my hand.

"Yeah," he breathes at me, reaching down and putting a hand around the back of my head. He guides me onto him, and so I take him into my mouth, swirl my tongue around the back of his manhood while I start to bob up and down on him.

"Not so fast," he tells me, wiping hair from my eyes. "Go slow at first, like that."

He groans as I adjust my pace, and again I see his abs crunch, and it imbues me with so much confidence to see that I'm making him feel good, that I'm not doing a bad job.

I get into it, try to give him the best b.l.o.w.j.o.b I possibly can, and he sits up, gathers my hair into his hand and holds it up.

He starts to wind my hair, pushes me down farther onto his c.o.c.k, and he grabs hold of my hand and guides my timing.

Chance is starting to lift his lower half off the bed, thrust into my mouth slightly each time I bob down on him.

"Like that," he tells me when I start to press my tongue into the back of his c.o.c.k, and so I keep doing it, listen to him.

His thrusts into my mouth grow harder, and so I slow down my own movements, open my throat as best I can, and let him take control.

His hands are wrapped around my head, and he f.u.c.ks my mouth as he pulls me down onto him, groaning his pleasure at me.

"G.o.d, f.u.c.k, this feels good," he tells me, a hard pa.s.sion in his features. He makes me look up at him while he f.u.c.ks my mouth. "You are so f.u.c.king s.e.xy."

He starts to go faster, harder, and I feel his body tense up, and seeing pleasure on his face is turning me on something wild.

"f.u.c.k," he breathes, pulling my hair tightly. "f.u.c.k."

"I'm going to come, Ca.s.s," he says, urgency in his voice.

So I spit him out, jerk him off, really fast, as fast as I can, and I look up his hot and athletic body, all tensed as he stretches out, pushes his hips forward.

I feel his c.o.c.k flex in my hand, and then he shoots a stream of c.u.m clear across the room, and then another one, and then another one. I'm shocked by how much he squirts out, and he's spraying it everywhere while he groans in pleasure, shakes and shudders, tenses and relaxes.

And then it finally stops, and I feel his c.o.c.k flex one more time and the last dribble slips out.

He's panting, looking down at me, and I'm curious, so I put my tongue to his d.i.c.k and taste his c.u.m. It doesn't taste as strong as I thought it would; it definitely smells stronger than it tastes.

"f.u.c.k," he says, and he lets go of my hair and he touches the side of my face. "I didn't know you were going to do that."

"I didn't want it all in my mouth," I say. It was the truth. What if I gagged? What if it tasted bad? It was, after all, my first b.l.o.w.j.o.b. I didn't want to embarra.s.s myself by coughing all over his c.o.c.k.

I look at it, and notice that it's still hard. It's not getting any softer. He corrals me into his arms and he kisses me hard, and then he's kissing me down my neck, taking my ear lobe into his mouth and sucking on it. I feel a tingling all over my body, and I know I'm ready to come again. I know I'm ready to go all the way.

I'm going to lose my virginity to him.

"Is this your first time?" he asks, holding my arms above my head against the bed. He brings his forehead to mine and he looks into my eyes.

"Yes," I say.

He nods, runs a finger across my lips before kissing my neck, behind my ear. "Trust me, Ca.s.s."

There's a pause, then he kisses my lips again, and I feel him push his knee up in between my legs, spreading them outward.

I run my hands down his chiseled chest, feel each b.u.mp and ridge of his muscled stomach, and then he lowers himself down my body, sucking hard on my nipple, biting them in between his teeth.

I yelp and laugh, pus.h.i.+ng him off me. "Hey, that hurts."

Saying that makes me look down our bodies at his thickness, and I wonder if it's going to hurt.

Jess said it only did at the beginning, and from what I'd read in magazines, foreplay helped to stop that. After all, he'd already licked me out until I came, and I know that I'm wet enough that the fact that we don't have any lubricant won't matter.

To say I'm nervous is an understatement.

"You got a condom?" I ask, watching as he takes my nipple into his mouth again and sucks on it hard, groping my breast with his hand.

He nods, and leans off the bed, reaching for his jeans, and I see him shake his wallet free and he pulls out a condom wrapper.

"You always keep one, huh?"

He smirks at me. I watch him as he tears it open, as he unrolls it down his manhood. I catch the scent of latex.

Then Chance is on me again, and he takes my hands and holds them above my head, and he kisses his way down the underside of my arm, over my armpit, to my neck, and up to my ear where he takes my lobe into his mouth and sucks on it.

It's like he wants every bit of my flesh in his mouth, wants to taste every sliver of my body.

I reach down in between us and hold on to his manhood, and he flexes some muscle and it jumps in my hand, seems to grow even thicker.

He lowers his body a little, and I feel him at my entrance. He looks at me, and there's this pause where we just look at each other.

I nod at him, and he kisses me hard as he begins to inch his way inside me, and I groan into his mouth, strain my hands against his that are still holding them above my head.

I can feel him stretching me, and at first there's this slight sting, but it fades pretty fast.

It's nearly overwhelming, the sensation. I've never felt anything like it before. He goes slow, eases into me, and we are lip-locked, and my eyes are clamped shut.

"f.u.c.k," I whisper as our kiss breaks. He lets my hands down and I instantly put them on his chest, push him there to slow him down.

"Slower," I gasp at him. "You're really big."

And he slows even more, and I'm holding onto his sides hard, feeling his rigid muscle there. I look up at his lips, want him to kiss me, and it's like he reads my mind.

He lowers down onto me, kisses me, keeps pus.h.i.+ng inside me, and slowly I start to get used to it, and as I do, I kiss him harder, push my hips up to meet his.

He bottoms out inside me, and then when he starts to pull out of me I'm just overcome with sensation. I've never felt anything like it before, and I grip onto him as he pulls his c.o.c.k right out from me, and then penetrates me again. I moan sharply into his ear.

"Yeah," I breathe at him as he settles into a rhythm. It feels really good.

He lifts himself off me, and all the veins on his arms stick out, and his muscles tense with each of his slow thrusts, and so I run my hands up and down his stomach and chest as he f.u.c.ks me, moaning in pleasure.

"You are so f.u.c.king s.e.xy," he says, and he starts to f.u.c.k me harder. His thrusts become more aggressive, and soon the whole bed is rocking, headboard banging against the wall, and all I can do is moan and push at his chest.

But then he pulls out of me, and I don't know what he's doing. He pulls the condom back down to the base of his c.o.c.k and then looks at me. "Turn over."

"What?" I say breathlessly. I'm panting, and feeling strangely empty.

"On your front," he says, and he turns me over so that I'm lying flat against the bed with my back facing to him. I feel the weight s.h.i.+ft on the bed, and he's got a knee on either side of me. Then I feel him at my entrance, and when he pushes in I gasp, clutching at the sheets. I feel so much more in this position!

"Oh, that's good," he growls. "I love your tight little p.u.s.s.y."

He slaps my legs shut, and I'm just lost in sensation. This is way more intense than how it was when he was on top of me. Why doesn't everybody just f.u.c.k this way all the time?

He starts to get into a rhythm, drive his c.o.c.k into me hard and fast again, and then he worms an arm beneath my hips, and begins to rub my c.l.i.t.

I'm just... lost for words. I can barely think. I'm in heaven. His tip is rubbing against my front wall hard each time he thrusts into me, his fingers are working me like magic, and it's just too much. I instantly feel myself climbing, feel that pressure building again.

"Oh, s.h.i.+t, don't stop," I breathe into the mattress, and I grit my teeth together and clamp my eyes shut as he f.u.c.ks me harder, fingers my c.l.i.t faster. "Oh, f.u.c.k, like that, like that!"

He keeps doing it just... like... that.

It's too much.

"Oh, Chance," I moan. "Oh, f.u.c.k, oh s.h.i.+t!"

I feel my whole body tighten up, as I feel myself just peek over that edge. His last thrust pushes me off it, and for a moment I'm caught in between, suspended in oblivion, and then pleasure crashes over me like a wave at the beach.

I cry out in white-hot bliss as my climax hits me, curling my toes, tensing my thighs, squeezing my ca.n.a.l, milking his c.o.c.k as he continues to drive it inside me, drive me through my o.r.g.a.s.m.

I can barely breathe; it's so intense it almost hurts. Every nerve ending inside me is on fire. My brain is mush. I'm somewhere wonderful.

"f.u.c.k," he growls, and his thrusts get shallower, and I can feel his c.o.c.k swell inside me, and then he's groaning as well, c.o.c.k flexing and twitching inside my spasming walls, and he's coming, too. His fingers dig into my hips, and he buries himself in me one last time, groaning loudly as he does so, before we stop moving completely.

I'm face-first against the mattress, with him still inside me. His c.o.c.k is still jolting, small squeezes as he empties the last of his o.r.g.a.s.m into me.

Hair is sticking to my face, and it's tickling me but I can't move it away right now. I have to stay still for a while. Everything is too sensitive now.

I feel him pull his still-hard c.o.c.k out from inside me, and he falls down on the bed, breathing hard. I roll onto my side, and he puts an arm around me, gathers me into him, and he just holds me.

It's so intimate and close, and it makes my heart surge in a different way. I run my fingers idly through his trimmed pubic hair.

"You smell good as well," I tell him honestly. He does, and I like the way he smells.

We lie together for some time, just stroking each other, touching each other's bodies. His hands continue their conquest of my body, but now it's calmer, like he's just fascinated, enthralled by my body.

He puts a huge hand against the side of my face, kisses my top lip first, then my bottom, and so I kiss him back, and we hold onto each other, and we kiss for ages, just kissing.

I roll on top of him, love the way he tastes and smells, love this moment, everything about tonight.

"You can spend the night," I say, before frowning and looking down in between us. "I thought guys got soft after they came?"

"Most will, but not me, especially not if I'm with you."

Chapter Fifteen.

I wake up in Ca.s.sie's bed.

It's a first, for me, spending the whole night.

But the bed is empty, and Ca.s.sie's side is cool to the touch.

Something is different. It's strange to me. I'm in uncharted territory.

I want her to be in bed with me. I want to wrap my arms around her, hold her against me, smell her in the morning.

I want to see that realization creep slowly across her face as she remembers what we did last night. As she remembers that I took every sweet inch of her.

For so long she's denied it, played hard to get, has done everything she can to push me away, to keep me at a distance.

But last night we were closer than ever. Just remembering it sends blood surging to my c.o.c.k. I made her scream, made her pant, made her night.

And she made mine. She was so s.e.xy, and she put on such a great performance. Thinking about her just revs me up again.

I get out of bed, and notice that Ca.s.sie's laptop is gone; she's probably taken it downstairs.

I pull my jeans on, but leave the zip and b.u.t.ton undone. It's the morning, and there's no sense in causing myself discomfort, especially when I'm sporting a b.o.n.e.r so hard it almost hurts.

I glance at the clock, see that it's five minutes to seven. Then it's to the bathroom and I squirt a blob of toothpaste onto my finger, and start brus.h.i.+ng my teeth as well as I can, waiting for my hard-on to go away so I can finally take a leak.

My mind is on Ca.s.s, wondering what she's up to, how she looks this morning. Is she dressed? Wearing old home clothes?

I hope the latter. There's something s.e.xy about it, the thought of running my hands up her sides inside an oversized t-s.h.i.+rt, cupping her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, squeezing them, teasing her nipples into stiff points while I press her hips against the kitchen counter from behind.

It's... oddly domestic. For me, anyway.

I think to our night before, and all it does is send more blood to my morning wood. I'm going to have to wait even longer now before I can take a p.i.s.s.