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Holy fuck. I can't believe I just had my first orgasm and that it was to thoughts of my stepbrother Noah.
I bite my lip as shame washes over me. What's wrong with me that the only way I'm able to get off is by thinking of something as taboo as my new stepbrother? Is that what does it for me? The taboo of the situation?
No, that's not it, I know. It's Noah. There's something about him. Even though the man hardly spoke two words to me, I can't get him out of my mind. He may not have said much to me with his voice, but his eyes said plenty. They bored into mine with more intensity than anything I've ever seen in my entire life.
It's almost like he was angry with me, and silly little fool that I am, I want nothing more than to lay down and take his anger. He can punish me all he wants by riding out his frustration on my body.
I stutter in a shaky breath as my heart rate slows back to normal. I have to stop thinking like this. Noah is forbidden.
And he obviously wants nothing to do with me.
I don't know why I'm so drawn to him, if it's just because he's so hot or if it's something else, but it doesn't matter. He and I can never be, so I need to get these silly notions out of my head.
I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, telling myself that I won't dream of him again.
But I do.
* * *
Noah
I grunt as my release tears up out of my balls with more force than a cannon firing off.
Fuck, watching Cynthia rub her sweet little pussy was my undoing. There was no way I could keep from pulling my painfully hard cock out of my pants and rubbing one out with her.
I've never seen anything more erotic than that innocent little angel arching up in bed, playing with her nipple with one hand while the other was moving between her sweet thighs.
My mouth salivates at the thought of tasting her. I’d love to be in between her legs right now drinking up all her sweet juices. I bet she tastes like peaches and cream.
I stroke my finger over her face on the computer screen. I can still hear the sound of her sweet whimpers in my ears. Everything about her is so motherfuckingsweet.
My chest tightens as I watch her fall back into sleep like the precious angel she is.
This is wrong on so many levels. I should leave her alone. I should forget about her. She's mystepsister.
And god help me, I tried. I barely grunted out two words of greeting to her before I excused myself from the wedding party and came straight home. I wailed on my punching bag to try to take out my frustration that the only girl I've ever wanted is unattainable. She's forbidden fruit.
But fuck me if that doesn't make me want to pluck her and taste her even more.
After beating the bag until sweat dripped off every inch of my body, I finally collapsed on my weight bench, my chest heaving up and down as the stark reality of my situation set in on me.
I wasn't going to be able to forget about Cynthia. Obsession had already taken root deep in my soul, and I felt the driving need to find out everything I could about her.
So instead of doing the right thing—the honorable thing—and pushing her out of my mind, I pulled up every resource available to me and found out everything I could about her.
I slipped into her apartment when she wasn't home and bugged it with cameras. It's an invasion of her most basic privacy, but I can't help it. I need to be able to see her at all times. If I can't have her the way I really want, then I can at least watch over her from afar like this.
I can protect her this way. That’s how I justify my actions to myself. I need to be able to make sure there's never any threat around her.
I pull the pair of panties I snatched from her apartment from my pocket and hold them up to my nose, inhaling deeply. They smell like her laundry detergent. I wish I could have gotten a worn pair that still had the scent of her pussy on it, but all of her clothes were clean, so I had to settle for this.
It's better than nothing. Knowing that this fabric once touched the heaven between her legs is more than enough to get me going again. Even though I just came with her, I begin stroking myself again, hard and fast, as I imagine the way she looks in these simple white panties.
For some reason, the thought of her in these turns me on more than the thought of her in any sexy lingerie. Fuck bustiers and lacy, silky panties. My angel is innocent and doesn't need all those decorations. I don't know how I know this, but I do. She's a virgin.
She has to be because the thought that anyone else has ever been between her legs makes me growl in rage. If I find out anyone has ever touched her, I’ll murder them.
It's insane, this possessiveness I feel over a girl I just met—a girl who's my new stepsister no less. It's wrong on so many levels, but nothing has ever felt more right.
