Stepbrother Studs: Upton Read online

  At first, I felt ashamed, completely shut down. And, of course, that was his intention, I realized, watching him go up the porch steps. Then, I grew angry. Because I knew I was right—my stepbrother had feelings for me. Real feelings. He’d been torturing himself over them for God only knew how long, so much so that it was bleeding into his fiction. He’d called me here on the pretense of making me his muse—but that wasn’t really what he wanted.

  At least, that wasn’t all he wanted.

  I started to run.

  Upton looked up in surprised when I banged through the front screen door and burst into the kitchen. He was putting his laptop on the kitchen table and I saw his mouth open slightly at the sight of me, naked and dripping wet, his gaze moving down, down, taking it all in. For a moment, he couldn’t hide what he was feeling and, when I glanced at the crotch of his jeans, I saw his body was betraying him, too.

  “Winnie…” He swallowed, sounding apologetic now. “I didn’t mean it.”

  “Yes, you did.” I stuck my chin up, defiant. “That’s exactly why you called me here, you know.”

  “What?” He looked at me, puzzled. His gaze had moved back up to my face and was struggling to stay there.

  “You asked me here so that I could act like a goddamned whore.” There was something hot blazing in me, out of control. “Your goddamned whore. That’s what you really want, Upton. Just admit it.”

  He shook his head, but didn’t say anything.

  “Admit it.” I moved toward him and he took a step back toward the sink. I wasn’t letting him go, not this time. “You say I’m your muse. I inspire you. And why is that? Why me?”

  “I…” He cleared his throat as I got closer. He was trapped between me and the countertop. My body was still wet as I pressed up against him.

  “Tell me the truth.” We stood belly to belly, eye to eye. “Or I swear to God, I’m going to go upstairs, pack my bag, and drive home. And you’ll never see me again as long as we both live.”

  My threat was a bluff—a big one—but I was satisfied when I saw the sudden flash of pain and fear in his eyes.

  He didn’t want me to go. He didn’t want to lose me.

  “Why me, Upton?” I whispered. My voice wasn’t accusatory anymore. “Why?”

  “Because…” He swallowed. “Oh fuck, Winnie. Because… it’s true. You inspire me. You know me better than I know myself. You are everything that’s good and right and sweet in my world.”

  I had asked for the truth—and he was giving it to me so hard it made my toes curl and my breath catch in my throat.

  “Because you are my everything,” he confessed hoarsely. “If I lost you… it would be the end of me. You make me want to be a better man. The best man I can possibly be. But I… I’m not that man.”

  I shook my head, denying it, feeling tears burning my throat. Because he was—he was the yardstick by which I measured every man in my life, and I’d found every single one of them wanting.

  “And if I’ve had sick, twisted thoughts about defiling you,” he choked. “Turning what we have into something shameful and disgusting… well, that’s all on me. I’m sorry, Winnie.”

  He put his arms around me, folding me against him.

  “I love you,” I whispered against his neck, pressing my lips there. “And not as a brother.”

  My confession hung there. Upton’s chest had ceased moving, his breathing stopped.

  “I want to be yours.” I peppered kisses over his collarbone. “Your muse. Your whore. Your… everything. I want that, too.”

  “Winnie…” he breathed, sounding incredulous. “You don’t know what you’re saying…”

  “Yes.” I nodded, pulling back to look into his eyes. “I do.”

  Then, I kissed him.

  His mouth tensed, his spine stiffening, as I put my arms around his neck. But then, his hands splayed across my lower back, his mouth slanting, tongue slipping along the seam of my lips. I opened to him with a groan, feeling the dull ache between my legs turn to an incessant throb. He kissed me back softly at first, exploring my mouth with his probing tongue, stroking my palate, sending little tingles down my spine. Then our kiss deepened, his hands moving down to grab the taut, half-moons of my ass so he could pull me tight against him. I felt his cock, hard under his jeans, pressing against me.

  “Winnie,” he gasped when we parted, burying his face in my neck. “Oh God, Winnie… if we do this…”

  “We’re doing this,” I breathed, reaching down and rubbing him through the denim. He shuddered and groaned. “Follow me.”

  I ran.

  In a heated rush, he chased me up the stairs.

  With his stiff prick, I knew he wouldn’t be able to catch me. But I could tease him with the possibility. Although the very thought of Upton grabbing me made my pussy wet. I wanted to wrestle with him again like when we were kids.

  I sat on his desk, feet up on the edge, my legs splayed, an open invitation.

  He stopped dead in the doorway when he saw me.

  A million emotions crossed his face in that moment and when his eyes met mine, I knew—we both knew, even though we’d tried for years to hide it. This had been coming for a long time. It was inevitable, really. Family ties might make what we were about to do taboo—an idea meant to keep civilization on track, I supposed—but people wanted what they wanted. They loved who they loved. Seeing my stepbrother’s cock tent-poled in his jeans, I knew civilization didn’t stand a chance.

  And neither did we.

  Upton’s eyes widened when I began to play with myself. I stroked my bare pussy with one hand and pinched one of my nipples with the other. He watched me, but he didn’t say a word as he started to undress. I realized I’d awakened a hidden reservoir in him. His t-shirt came off in one graceful movement. When he wasn’t churning out cheesy romance novels, he spent his time at the gym. I remembered when we were young and he looked the stereotypical “artsy kid”—tall and lanky. Now, his torso appeared carved from a block of granite. When he dropped his pants, his stiff cock poked hard against the fabric of his boxer-briefs. That made my mouth water, I wanted to wrap my lips around it, tease it, tasting the cotton.

  “Do you like what you see?” he asked, breaking the soundless ritual.

  I nodded, my fingers parting my pussy lips, showing more pink. “Do you?”

  “Fuck yes.” He pried off his briefs, freeing his huge cock. It slapped gently against his washboard abs.

  Without saying a word, he began to touch himself. His fingers lingered over the moistened head of his shaft. I stared while his balls rose and fell with each pump, my pussy so wet, I was leaking onto his desk. I slipped my fingers inside, fucking myself, matching his stroking rhythm.

  We’d become co-conspirators, alone and isolated, free from parental guilt or societal hypocrisy. As we masturbated together, we created our own miniature Eden, a private paradise. More than anything in the world, I wanted to mount his erect cock and ride him like a bucking stallion, riding him until he broke beneath me, flooding my insides with his hot seed.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  “Riding you. Riding you like a pony,” I said with a smile. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Tasting you.” His gaze was focused between my legs. “Eating you alive.”

  “Makes for good inspiration for your novel, huh?” I grinned. “What are we gonna do first?”

  Upton answered by lunging at me on the desk, sinking down to his knees and pushing my hand out of the way with his face. He burrowed between my legs, feasting on my flesh like a starving man. I moaned, leaning back onto my elbows and putting my legs over his shoulders as he took his fill. His tongue dipped deep and then traveled upward, again and again, until finally, he took my clit into his mouth and sucked it between his lips. I hissed air between my teeth, looking down to see him stroking his cock as he licked me. The sight made me ache for him.

  “I want you,” I breathed, running my hands through hi
s hair. “Oh God, please, Upton, I need you…”

  “Mmmm.” He lifted his eyes to meet mine, his mouth still fastened on my pussy. Then he came up for breath. “I want you to come in my mouth first. I want to taste you when you come all over my face.”

  “Oh… God…” I moaned when he found my clit again with his tongue, flicking it, circling it, both of his hands spreading my thighs now, completely focused on me. I cried out when his fingers found my hole, probing gently—too gently.

  “Finger me,” I gasped. “Oh, yes, fuck my pussy. Like that. Faster! Ahhhh, harder!”

  He did as I asked, pleasure shooting through me in hot, electric surges, his tongue never letting up. He lashed at my clit and fucked my pussy, deep and hard, bliss washing over me like waves hitting a rocky shore, again and again and again. I felt my orgasm hovering on the precipice, something deep, primordial, volcanic. I shivered, my teeth chattered, my low moans, whimpers and sighs rising to more of a prolonged, keening wail.

  Upton’s eyes met mine and he looked at me as if I was in pain.

  And yes, it was torture—the sweetest torture I’d ever known.

  “Don’t stop!” I cried, grabbing his head and keeping him there. “Don’t you dare fucking stop! I’m gonna come—ohhhhh I’m gonna come all over your face!”

  My stepbrother groaned and redoubled his efforts, pumping my pussy at a ferocious pace.

  When it arrived, my climax nearly broke me. My body tensed and then bucked, shaking the desk. I let out a series of banshee wails. The desk, already wet from my skinny dipping, was now flooded with my juices. Upton did his best to clean them all up with his mouth, dipping his head to capture the honey that ran down my slit while I shuddered and arched, so much pleasure ripping through my quivering body I thought I might break in half.

  “Jesus, Winnie,” he whispered, kissing my wet thighs. “You’re so fucking hot.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard,” I panted, still trying to catch my breath.

  “Good thing we’re the only ones on the lake.” He chuckled, standing to put his arms around me. I kissed him, tasting myself on his mouth. “I didn’t know you were a screamer.”

  “I’m not.” I flushed. “I mean, not usually…”

  “I don’t like to think about you with other guys,” he growled, grabbing my hips and pulling me closer. I gasped when I felt his cock stabbing my navel. I wrapped my legs around his waist. “You’re mine, Winnie. Now that I have you, I’m never letting you go.”

  “You promise?” I nuzzled his neck, rubbing my cheek against his, feeling the stubble there.

  “Mine,” he whispered, rocking against me, his hands moving up to cup my breasts, thumbing my nipples, making my pussy flutter in response. “God, you’re so beautiful. Even more beautiful than I imagined.”

  “I thought I was too flat-chested.” I pouted. He dipped his head to suck my nipple into his mouth, sending jolts of heat through me. “Hey—you were imagining me naked?”

  “Every time I jerked off,” he admitted with a grin, coming up to kiss me. “And I never said too flat-chested. I love perky breasts. Yours in particular, now that I’ve seen them.”

  “Every time?” I teased, reaching down to touch his cock. It was deliciously swollen and it throbbed in my hand. “Surely there were a few Kate Uptons or Anne Hathaways thrown in there?”

  “Well, maybe to start…” He bit his lip when I rubbed the tip, spreading precum with my thumb. “But I always finished to you, Winnie. Every damned time.”

  “Where did you finish?” I asked huskily, tugging him gently, pressing him up against my slit. “In my mouth? On my perky little tits? Or did you come deep inside my hot… wet… cunt…?”

  I tugged him harder, more pointedly, with my last three words, adjusting so that the head of his cock was aimed perfectly.

  God, I wanted him inside me.

  “Inside you.” He swallowed, looking down. “Always inside you. I want to fill your hot, wet cunt, Winnie. Do you want it, too?”

  “More than anything,” I breathed.

  We both stopped, looking at each other. If there was a point of no return, this was it.

  But I didn’t object when he pulled his hips back and impaled me in one, swift thrust.

  We both moaned and clung to each other.

  “You okay?” He pulled back to look at me.

  I nodded, my arms going around his neck. “Perfect.”

  “Time to go for a ride.” He lifted me off the desk, carrying me to his little twin bed and sitting on it, me in his lap.

  We kissed, deeply, and I felt him throbbing inside of me, a constant heartbeat.

  Upton leaned back, shifting his weight so he was stretched out on the bed, me still on top.

  “Ride me, Winnie.”

  I lifted my hips and sank slowly down again, watching his face in the patch of moonlight coming in from the window next to the bed. He was so beautiful, it hurt my heart. Were we really doing this? I couldn’t count how many times I’d read his books, putting myself in the place of the heroine, imagining Upton as my white knight. I might have teased him about his romantic sensibilities, but secretly, I loved them. I loved him.

  “That’s it.” He moved his hands up from my hips to my breasts, flicking my nipples, sending delicious sparks down to my pussy. “Oh, fuck, that’s good.”

  For a moment, I just rocked on him, easing his cock to and fro, deep inside of me. I felt it rubbing against my cervix, my clit brushing his pubic bone, aching to be touched. Then I really began to move, sliding up and down his length, long, hard, hot strokes. He let out a groan and grabbed my hips again, slowing me.

  “Easy.” He let out a breath. “I don’t want to come yet. I want to feel you come on my cock.”

  “Then rub my clit.” I sat up to give him access, leaning back and putting my hands on his thighs.

  Upton’s thumb moved over the sensitive bud, stroking lightly as I rolled my hips, getting his cock slippery wet with my juices.

  “Oh yes.” I bit my lip, rocking faster. “Harder. Oh God, yes, like that!”

  He switched hands, sucking the fingers that had been rubbing me into his mouth.

  “I love the fucking taste of you,” he said hoarsely. “I could eat your pussy all day long.”

  “Promises, promises.” I laughed, but I wasn’t laughing when he grabbed me, sliding me off his cock and flipping me around so I was sitting on his face, his tongue probing the hole where his cock had just been.

  “Oh! Fuck!” I gasped, unable to keep my balance, leaning over him, my nails digging into his thighs as he drank my juices.

  His cock, slick with me, throbbed against my cheek. He let out a low groan when I took it into my hand, and then my mouth, working up and down his length. His tongue flickered against my clit, fiercely determined. I usually wasn’t multiply-orgasmic, but damned if he wasn’t going to make me come again, I thought, feeling that familiar tightening in my belly.

  Just when I thought I was going to explode, he grabbed my hair, pulling me off his cock.

  “I have to come inside you,” he growled, rolling me under him and shoving himself deep into my pussy.

  “Fuck me,” I panted into his ear, meeting each hard, fast thrust with a buck of my hips. “Oh yes, please, fuck me! Harder! Oh! God! Don’t stop!”

  I’d never had an orgasm during sex before without having to touch my clit directly, but there I was, dangling right on the edge, and he was taking me there with every glorious push of his hips. I ground my pelvis into his, the heated plow of his cock driving me up toward the headboard.

  “I’m gonna come,” I cried, incredulous, the sensation passing the point of no return. I was falling, flying. “Now! Oh, nowww!”

  My pussy clamped around his cock like a velvet vise, snapping closed again and again around his length. My voice rose to a scream and I clutched him to me, my nails digging into his back, his cock pumping faster now, not letting up. Then he gave one last, shuddering thrust o
f his hips, his groan lost in my hair as he began to come. I felt every throb of his cock as he emptied himself into me, waves after waves of heat flooding my spasming pussy.

  “Oh Winnie,” he breathed as he slid off me, both of us hot and sweaty. The window was open, the breeze cooling my skin. “What have we done?”

  “Don’t.” I pressed my fingers to his lips, shaking my head. “I don’t regret anything.”

  He kissed my fingers, my palm, the inside of my wrist. “I love you so much.”

  I smiled, curling myself against him. “This ought to get your creative juices flowing.”

  “I’ll say.” He sighed happily and when I looked at him, I saw his eyes were closed.

  I closed mine, too, not caring that the room was warm, our bodies sticky.

  Before I knew it, I was asleep.

  I woke some time in the night, the sound of Upton’s fingers clacking away on the laptop keyboard punctuating the silence of the summer house.

  I smiled, closed my eyes, and slept again.

  * * * *

  I woke to the smell of coffee and eggs.

  Upton put a tray on the desk beside me, then leaned over to give me a kiss.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  “Starving.” I sat, rubbing my eyes and stretching. I saw the greedy look he gave me as he looked at my naked body. “You’re sweet to do this. I could have eaten a Pop-Tart.”

  “A Pop-Tart isn’t food.” Upton sat at the desk sipping coffee as I lifted the tray onto the bed. “Besides, I needed a break.”

  I nibbled toast after dipping it in the egg yolk. “Were you up all night writing?”

  “Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking at the screen. “I’m on a roll.”

  I ate my breakfast while he went back to typing between sips of coffee. Once my appetite was sated, I moved the tray to the floor and went over to stand behind him, looking over his shoulder.

  “Hey!” He glanced back with a frown, tilting the laptop screen down. “You can read it later.”